LIAM ALMOST REGRETTED asking the question. All the color drained from Cecily’s face and he felt like he’d blindsided her. Which he had. After all, he’d come here with an agenda beyond just returning her phone. He wanted to know. Needed to know. How bad was it? He wanted the truth. Unvarnished.
“I’m sorry. I saw the oncologist’s appointment on your phone. People don’t usually go see one of those unless they’re sick. So, how bad is it?” Liam was the kind of man who wanted to get all the bad news up front. He didn’t see a need to sugarcoat anything. But as he watched her gnaw at her lip, eyes refusing to meet his, he realized she was trying to figure out a way to lie. Or, at least, try to figure out a way to round out the edges of the truth.
“Why do you want to know?” She was hedging. It was obvious.
“Because...” She was the first woman in a long time he truly cared about. “Because I want to know.”
“We’re practically strangers, though.”
He tried not to think about how little of her body was strange to him. He’d explored every inch of her bare skin. How he’d made her moan. How, right at this moment, he wanted to hear her moan again. But he needed to know the truth.
“Because we haven’t known each other for very long, you don’t have to spare my feelings, okay? Just be honest with me.”
“But...”
“Look, I’ll be honest with you, if you are honest with me. Let’s make that promise, okay? We can’t get anywhere if we’re not honest with each other.”
“Okay.” Cecily sucked in a deep breath and sighed. “I’ve got a rare form of liver cancer. The problem is that they can’t operate. The tumor is too entrenched, and taking it out would pretty much destroy my liver.”
“Why not get a liver transplant, then?” Liam asked.
Cecily shook her head. “The cancer spread to a blood vessel. That means even if I did get a transplant, there’d be cancer cells left in my body. Doctors fear it would be a waste of a transplant organ that could save someone else’s life.”
“What about chemo? Radiation?” Liam couldn’t believe this. There wasn’t a treatment option for someone as young and vibrant as Cecily? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.
“It would just shrink the tumor. Not get rid of it.” Cecily shrugged. “And the way it’s growing, doctors say that there’s not enough chemo or radiation to give me a fighting chance. Those things would just make me sick, and probably make the time I have left miserable.”
“Time you have left?” Liam’s stomach twisted into knots. He didn’t like where this was going. Not at all.
“Doctors gave me eight to ten months.”
“To live?” Liam blinked fast, stunned. Cecily appeared healthy, despite her diagnosis. She looked nothing like the cancer patients he always saw on hospital fundraisers. She had luscious, thick blond hair, and clear blue eyes, and nothing about her seemed weak or frail.
Cecily nodded, glancing at the hands folded neatly in her lap. How was she so calm about this?
“You’re dying.” He didn’t believe the words even after they were out of his mouth.
Cecily glanced up at him, eyes luminous, a sheen of tears on them. She nodded.
Liam reached out then, and pulled her into his arms, as if by holding her, he could keep her safe. But the danger was invisible, was inside her, was something he couldn’t fight. She sagged against him, her resolve fading as the tears came, silent sobs that shook her small body. He hugged her tighter, still not believing this beautiful woman—this perfect woman—could be so sick.
Cecily clung to him, wrapping her thin arms tightly around him. She needed him, needed a safety that he wanted to give, but knew he couldn’t ultimately deliver. He’d never felt so helpless in all his life.
“Did you get a second opinion?” he asked her, quietly, trying not to find hope where there wasn’t any.
“No,” she sniffed, and pulled away from him a little. He reached out and grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table nearby and handed it to her. She took it gratefully. “I’ve seen the specialist in my network, and there aren’t a whole lot of other doctors on my plan.” She shrugged. “Or what used to be my plan. COBRA is too expensive for me. No way can I afford it. It costs more than half my rent.” She sniffed. “Everything from here on out is out of pocket.”
“That’s not right. They laid you off and you have cancer?”
“Technically, they didn’t officially know yet, so it’s not discrimination,” she said. “I’d kept the diagnosis to myself for a couple of weeks while I tried to figure out what kind of treatment—” She stopped abruptly and swallowed. “How much sick leave I’d need. But then the layoffs happened. I was among three hundred people laid off nationwide, so I can’t claim it’s because of the cancer.”
“Still. Maybe they’d hire you back?”
A bitter laugh escaped Cecily’s throat. “Hire me back so I could take indefinite sick leave and drain the health benefits? No. That would hurt profits. No way would they do that.”
Liam shook his head. He understood the bottom line, but that still didn’t prevent him from wanting to call up her HR department. Give them a piece of his mind. “It’s not right. It’s not fair.”
“Yeah. There’s a lot in life that’s not fair.” Cecily seemed remarkably calm about all of this. Liam wanted to punch something, but she sat with her fingers on her lap. Her cat jumped up next to her then, purring, and she stroked his dark gray fur.
“Yeah, but cancer is expensive and...”
“And there’s no treatment for me, so it won’t, actually, be as expensive. I’ll have end of life care, of course, but—”
“But do you really know that? If you’ve only seen one doctor?”
“Would a second opinion really be so different?” Cecily asked, studying her cat.
“It might be,” Liam said, careful not to let hope into his voice. “You never know.” He knew about how his mother complained about doctors. Also knew that her stints in and out of rehab and with one counselor after another meant that he knew for a fact that some treatment centers were far superior to others, and not all facilities were equal. His mother, Lucinda, had battled alcoholism for most of his life, though now she’d been sober going on at least three years. The alcoholism, too, he thought could be traced back to his father’s death. At least, he thought her drinking got worse then, anyway. Who wouldn’t want to drown their sorrows after Wilder had cut them out?
“Are you going to try?” he asked.
“I can’t afford it.” Her mouth tensed a little.
Liam knew all about difficult times. He’d been there. Lost jobs, too. He didn’t have a safety net to fall back on, either. He thought about his rich half brother. Asking him for help had always been out of the question. Plus, he’d likely not give it anyway.
“I could help you.” He didn’t have much, but what he did have, he’d be happy to share. Cecily shouldn’t be alone. Not now.
She shifted uncomfortably on the couch. “I don’t want you to feel you have to get involved.” She picked at a piece of lint on her gray sweatpants. “This is my burden, and we’re strangers. I don’t even know your last name. Technically.” A small blush crept up her cheeks at this admission.
Liam sighed. He hated to bring up his name, since so many people knew Lange Communications. Most asked about the connection right away. “It’s Lange. Liam Lange.”
“Lange?” she echoed. He hoped she didn’t ask about Lange Communications or Wilder Lange. Everyone knew his half brother. He was one of the most famous billionaires in the world.
“Yes, and you are Cecily Morgan. I saw it in your email.” He held out his hand for a shake. She took it, confusion and amusement warring on her face.
“So, nice to meet you. Now we’re not strangers.”
She laughed a little at that.
“But still, we only just met.”
Intellectually, he knew why she kept reminding him of that, and yet, part of him worried she was just trying to shuffle him out of her life. He didn’t want to go. She needed him.
“But you need someone on your side here. You need someone to talk to about this. What does your family say about your prognosis?”
“It’s just me, my mom and my sister. And...” Cecily sucked in a breath. “I haven’t told them yet.”
Liam remembered the upbeat text messages from her mom, as she asked about her daughter’s doctor appointment.
“Why not?”
“They live in Cleveland and... I don’t want to crush their hope.” She glanced up at him, her blue eyes full of pain.
“Then don’t.” Liam reached out and grabbed her hands. They were soft and delicate, dainty in his big palms. “Get a second opinion, and maybe you won’t have to.”
Cecily stood, and walked across her small living room to her window, glancing at the street below. She hugged herself, as if chilled. Liam left the love seat, too, following her.
“I need to think about it,” she told him.
For Liam, there wasn’t anything to think about. A second opinion meant the possibility of a second chance, and he couldn’t see how anyone would ignore that. But it wasn’t his place to push her. He understood that. What he did know was that he couldn’t just leave her to fend for herself. He knew exactly what it felt like to be a lone fighter with no one on his side.
“I want to help, if you’ll let me.”
She rubbed her arms as she turned to look at him, her blue eyes luminous. The sunlight hit her golden hair just right, making it seem to shimmer. For a second, he felt rooted to the spot.
“I don’t want you to feel obligated,” she said.
“Look, I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. You should know that about me right now.” Liam moved closer to her. He brushed a wave of hair from her forehead. In that moment, he’d never seen a woman as beautiful as Cecily. He’d do whatever he could to help. “But know that I’m here for you as long as you need me. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”
“Thank you,” she said, and then he pulled her close to his chest, inhaling the sweet smell of lilacs in her hair. “But, right now...the best thing you can do for me is to distract me. I need...something else.” She pulled away from him. He knew that look on her face right then and felt blood rush to his groin. She kissed him, slowly at first. Gently. Almost a nibble.
Part of him wondered if she simply planned to distract him with sex, if this was all little more than her way of changing the subject. If so, he wasn’t going to object. She crawled into his lap then, straddling him, and he could feel her warmth through her sweatpants. He grew painfully against the zipper of his jeans, as she flicked her tongue against his. Blood pounded in his temples, as he could think of nothing more than her on top of him. He wrapped his hands in her hair, as she deepened the kiss. Damn, the woman could kiss. Even after the entire night, he still needed her. Still wanted her. She wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met.
And she was dying.
He wanted it not to be true. Even as he pushed the thought away, he found himself leaning her back on the love seat and tugging at her sweatpants. They came off and he saw she was completely bare beneath, her knees slightly open, her eyes gazing at his, filled with want. She needed this, needed the distraction he could give her. He licked his finger and gently touched her, a gasp escaping her lips as he rubbed her swollen clit. He felt it swell, felt her desire rise. He slipped his finger inside her, finding her gloriously, deliciously wet. So very wet.
His own desire grew. He wanted her, badly, despite the fact he’d just had her last night. Or, maybe, it was because he’d just had her. He knew exactly how delicious her tight little body was.
“I want you inside me,” she groaned. She reached up and unzipped him, freeing his thick cock.
He grabbed his wallet from his back pocket. He had a condom in there, albeit an old one. Who knew when he’d last put it in there? He kicked off his pants and underwear, and then unwrapped the latex and slid it on.
“Hurry,” she told him, and he did. The next second, he was deep inside her, and they both felt the urgency, the need. In this moment, nothing else mattered but their bodies, moving together, perfectly in sync. Who needed to talk about the future, when everything that mattered was right here in this moment, her desire and his, a white-hot sensation, and nothing mattered except releasing the pent-up energy. He wanted to save her, wanted to erase all her problems. The sex felt frantic, desperate, somehow, as she clawed his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in ever deeper. He wanted to hold off, wanted to wait, but he didn’t know how long he could last. She clutched him harder, and somehow, they rolled straight off the love seat, him hitting the floor first and then her on top. He didn’t even care about the glancing blow to his elbow, the shock of the rugged carpet against his back.
Now she was on top of him, her eyes wild, her face flushed. She whipped off her T-shirt, revealing she’d been braless. Her rose-petal-pink nipples stood at attention in the cool air of the room. She leaned forward, as if offering them, and he took one in his mouth. He licked her salty skin gently, reverently. She moaned, as she dipped down to kiss his neck, sucking there. Cecily rose up then, and rode him, gently at first, but then her blue eyes grew dark, her pupils widening in pleasure, as she picked up the pace. Her hips rocked with a determination he’d rarely met, and certainly never expected from a woman as delicate as this. But she wanted him, and she drew him in, ever deeper, always deeper.
The stiff rug pressed into his shoulder blades, but he didn’t care. He was glad the floor lay beneath him, or otherwise, he felt he might get lost in her body. He reached up, caressing the soft roundness of her breasts. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the ceiling, as his eyes roved her perfect body.
Her trim waist, the flare of her soft hips, the small indent of her belly button. He tried to memorize every detail of her body, here in the sunlight, just in case this was the last time he was allowed to see it. Women like Cecily didn’t fall for guys like him. Even if they had cancer. Or especially if they had cancer. He needed to treat this as the miracle it was, and know that like all miracles, this, too, would disappear.
He grasped her hips then, moving her with his hands, meeting her thrust for thrust. She was so beautiful, a delicate pink flush ran down the front of her chest. She lifted her golden hair, and tendrils of it fell downward, her breasts defied gravity as she rocked back and forth. He could die here beneath her and be happy. Cecily let her blond hair fall to her shoulders and pressed her palms against his chest. Her breathing grew more rapid, as her eyes met his.
“Come for me,” he challenged her.
Her full pink lips parted, as the flush on her cheeks grew deeper. She sucked in a breath and cried out, her body urgent against his. He could feel the climax building in her, feel her tighten around him.
“Yes, that’s it. You need this,” he told her, voice low.
“Yes, yes, I do,” she replied, and ground against him even harder. He’d never had a woman who wanted this so badly, a woman who needed what he could give.
He might not be able to cure her, but by God, he could make her feel like her diagnosis was a million miles away. He met her, each thrust, syncing to her rhythm, and watched as the climax overtook her. Her eyes flicked open, her gaze meeting his, and he saw the raw, honest pleasure there as she cried out. In that moment, in that perfect moment, she wasn’t sick. She seemed as if she could live forever. And then, he came, too, unable to hold back any longer. He wanted to make her his, and he wanted her for as long as he could have her. Then, she collapsed against him, breathing heavy. He wrapped his arms around her, his own heartbeat loud in his ears. He wouldn’t think about tomorrow right now.
“Who cares about cancer? You’re going to kill me with orgasms,” Cecily murmured into his chest.
He laughed then, hugging her tightly. “It would be a better way to go,” he told her hair.
“No doubt,” she said, and then Cecily rolled off him, snatching her shirt from the ground and tugging it on. He took the opportunity to grab a tissue from the dispenser on the coffee table and wrap up the used condom in it. He padded over to the bathroom trash and dumped it. Cecily watched him, blue eyes wary. Liam tugged on his underwear, and then picked up his jeans.
“You know, you can still go. Not bother to call me again. I would understand.”
Liam froze, one leg stuck in his jeans, one out. “Why would I do that?”
“Because...because of...” She spread her arms wide. “Everything.”
He finished pulling up his jeans and zipped them. She seemed so fragile then, so delicate. “I’m not leaving unless you want me to,” Liam said. And he meant it. She needed him. Needed protecting, if he could do it, needed distraction if he could give it. “Do you want me to leave?”
Cecily bit her lower lip. “No,” she admitted. “But I... I just...” She sighed. “But I don’t want special treatment, okay? Just treat me normally, okay? Like any other one-night stand.”
“Who said this was a one-night stand?” Liam sure as hell didn’t want it to be.
“I mean, I’m sure you pick up girls in bars all the time, and I mean, just do what you normally do.”
“For the record, you picked me up.” Liam’s lip curled into a slow grin. “You were the one buying me drinks, trying to get me wasted so you could take advantage of me.”
Cecily barked an indignant laugh. “I was not!”
“And then you lure me back to my apartment, take advantage of me and leave without a word.”
“You know why I left.” Hurt flashed across Cecily’s face. He knew why. She’d been trying to spare him her drama. But he didn’t want to be spared. “And, anyway, I’m sure you’ve snuck out on your share of women. I’m sure you have one-night stands all the time.”
“I don’t. For the record.” Sure, Liam got his fair share of female attention, but Liam hated casual. Hated everything about casual—usually. He didn’t work like that. It was why he couldn’t casually accept that his brother had taken over the family empire. He didn’t do things by halves. He was all in, or all out. “I don’t do casual.”
“You...don’t?” Cecily’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why not?”
“I don’t see the point,” he said. “Either you’re into someone, or you’re not. Why have sex with someone you don’t think you can love? I never understood that.” It was why, if he were honest, he’d scared away women in his past, women who had no intention of settling down, of having a real relationship. They’d wanted something casual. He couldn’t deliver.
Cecily blinked fast. “But we just met.”
“Right.” Liam went to her on the couch, sitting next to her. “That’s why I want to get to know you better. So this isn’t casual.”
“But...” He could see all the excuses well up in her eyes, all the ways she wanted to tell him that wasn’t possible. He put a finger on her lips.
“You wanted me to treat you normally,” he said. “So this is my normal. Let me at least do that.”
“What is your normal?” she asked him, tentative.
“How about we start with a date?”
Her eyes brightened, but then she hesitated. What was holding her back? “I don’t know. I promised myself...”
“Promised yourself what?”
“Well, I have a bucket list. Of sorts. I’m trying to get through it all, before...” She trailed off. “That’s why I kissed you. At the bar.”
“It was?” Liam almost laughed. He wondered what item that might be. Kiss a jerk at a bar? Throw herself on the first schmuck she saw? “What was the item you were trying to scratch off?”
“Kiss a handsome stranger that’s out of your league at a bar and see what happens.”
“You think I’m out of your league?” Liam couldn’t believe that. If anything, the opposite was true.
“Yes,” Cecily admitted, but wouldn’t look him in the eye. He felt amusement well up in him. He didn’t know what planet she lived on to think he was out of her league. Clearly, it was the other way around.
“What else is on your bucket list?”
“Tons of things. Seeing the Eiffel Tower in Paris. Buckingham Palace in London. Skydiving. Horseback riding. Ice-skating at Rockefeller Center.” She ticked off a few items on her fingers. “Oh, and at some point a super fancy, super expensive dinner at one of those places that only foodies go where nobody knows what they’re eating?”
“Okay. How about this? We work on your bucket list together,” he said. Hope flared in her eyes for just a moment.
“Seriously?” she asked him, and the hope in it nearly split his heart in two. He felt right then determined to tick off every last item on her bucket list, so help him.
“Absolutely,” he said. “Let’s start with that fancy dinner.”