Chapter Twelve

Since it was close to midnight, hardly any traffic was on the road. The journey to Sam’s house took less than half the time it would have during the day, and before she knew it, they had arrived.

She jumped out of the car, impatient to get inside, and gazed up at the house. How different she felt from the last time she’d stood in this spot. Then she’d been devastated. Now she was restless, her emotions bouncing all over the place. What information was she going to find about her attackers, and how was she going to react once she learned what Sam had to show her? Trepidation slowed her progress to the front door.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Sam’s hand on the small of her back both strengthened and reassured her. With him by her side, she knew she could get through anything, no matter how traumatic it promised to be.

She turned her head and smiled up at him. “I’m sure.”

With a grim nod, he inserted the key, flicked on the light switch, and stepped aside to let her through. “It’s in my study. How about I make you a drink first? Coffee…tea…or something stronger?”

Her smile softened at his stalling tactics. “I don’t need anything, thanks. I’d rather see what you’ve got and get it over with.”

She strode down the hallway and flicked on the office light. His usually tidy desk was a mess of paperwork. Newspaper clippings littered the surface as if he’d swiped an angry hand through the pile. Her gaze swept over the chaos, then snagged on an article with a grainy photograph. For the briefest of seconds, her heart stopped, then she read the title.

Prominent Local Family Mourn Loss of Son.

Her gaze drifted back to the face of the man who’d had the starring role in her worst nightmares and waited for the fear, disgust, and shame to make its familiar appearance, but nothing happened. The power he’d held over her had gone. She scanned the accompanying article, not because she was interested, but because she thought she should. That way, once it was done, she wouldn’t run the risk of wondering. It would be over.

His car had hit a tree and burst into flames after a night of partying. His friend, her old flatmate, had been the sole passenger. Many times over the years, she’d wished they’d burn in hell for what they’d done. It seemed appropriate to know now they most likely had. She’d never been a violent person, but knowing their ending felt good. “Boy, Karma can be a real bitch, huh?”

Sam came up behind her and stroked his palms up and down her arms, his quiet strength a reminder that he’d always have her back. She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed into his chest. His arms wrapped loosely around her hips, and he rested his chin on her head. For the first time in years, she was aware of a deep peace in her soul where once turmoil had reigned, and it was all because of this very special man.

“Thank you for doing this, Sam.”

“Anything for you, brat.”

She leaned back slightly at the nickname, her cheeks warming as her mind took her back to the time he’d last used the word in that tone. His eyes were full of love and mischief as he gazed down at her. Then they darkened, and those beautiful lips parted. It seemed he’d read her mind.

Holding her gaze, he cradled her face in his hands and bent down to kiss her. The moment his mouth claimed hers, her very soul rejoiced. She rose on tiptoe, flattening her body against his, but it wasn’t close enough. Pressed as hard as she was against him, she couldn’t mistake the effect their kiss was having on him, but he kept his touch light, his lips gentle. Suspecting she knew the reason why, she broke off and leaned back in the circle of his arms.

“I’m okay, Sam. In fact, I’ve never been better, thanks to you.” She indicated the newspaper articles with a flick of her hand. “All of that is a part of my past—it always will be, but it has no bearing on now—or my future. I have much better things to focus on.”

“You do, huh?” His attempt at nonchalance was ruined by the husky quality in his voice.

“Yeah. I do.” Her heart expanded in her chest until her eyes welled with tears. She placed a palm against his bristle-roughened cheek. This man was everything to her, and it was time he knew the full extent. “I love you, Samuel Merrick. Always have and always will. Perhaps when I was a child, there was a hint of hero worship to my feelings, but they disappeared around the same time as my Barbie dolls. Since then, you’ve been the face of every hero of every story I’ve ever read, or every story I’ve ever dreamed up. Quite simply, you’re home to me, Sam. We belong together, and I’m so beyond happy that you finally see that too. It took you long enough.”

He turned his head and nuzzled her palm. “I’m sorry it took so long. But I plan on spending the rest of my life making it up to you.”

“You do?” Her breath caught as she imagined all the scenarios.

His low, dirty laugh made all the fine hairs on her body stand to attention. “Oh, yeah. Trust me. It’ll be worth your while.”

“Can we start now?”

The amused smile morphed into a wolf-like grin. “Hell, yeah, we can start. But let me first grab an essential piece of material I’ve been hanging onto for a while.”

She frowned as he stepped away from her and opened one of the drawers of his desk. What was he doing? When he turned back to her, a navy-blue piece of lace hung from a fingertip, the wolf-like grin stretching wider across his face. Her mouth dropped open, her cheeks flamed, and her belly quivered in excitement.

His eyes tracked every reaction. “Shall we take this to the bedroom, Lucy? It’s much more comfy in there.”

She laughed. “I think that sounds like a really great idea.”

He offered her a hand and pulled her flush against him, back where she belonged. “Just so you know, brat. You’re home to me too.”

Then he swept her up into his arms and strode down the hall to his bedroom. As she clung to him, she took particular note of the way his muscles bunched and released under his shirt. A huge smile broke over her face, and she buried her face in the hollow of his throat to breathe him in. A long-held fantasy was being brought to life. Unable to resist, she licked him, wanting all her senses to be filled with him. The growl that rumbled through his chest and vibrated against her skin sent little thrills chasing through her system to pool between her legs.

Without any of the finesse he’d shown in the past, he dropped her onto the bed and immediately followed her down. His eyes were wild, and a fine tremble had hold of his body. She bucked her hips to displace him and rolled to straddle him, closing her eyes briefly as the hard bulge against her core momentarily alleviated the ache.

When she opened her eyes again, he was staring up at her, the gray of his eyes almost swallowed completely by enlarged pupils. He lay there, palms up, allowing her to set the pace, to be in control, and in that moment, love stole her ability to speak, to let him know how she felt.

But it didn’t matter. She knew exactly what to do to show him instead, and she set about doing just that.