High Stakes (19 page)

“Not here,” he murmured, holding her hand
as he encouraged her to step out of the dress puddling at her feet. “I want to
take you to bed.” He’d subtly monitored her alcohol intake tonight, and he knew
she stopped after two glasses of wine. So there was no question in his mind it
was her, not the liquid courage, asking him to take her tonight.

She held his hand in hers as she led him up
the stairs to a generous master suite at the end of the hall.

His eyes fell on a hall console table crowded
with framed photos of Alisa with friends and family. But one in particular
caught his attention and killed his arousal faster than a blast of ice water.
“What the hell is this?” he asked, picking up a photo of his latest nemesis
holding the woman
he
loved in his arms.

“Oh God,” she said, her face draining of
color. “I, uh, didn’t even know that was still there.” She took the picture
from him and his heart clenched when he saw a flicker of sorrow darken her
eyes. “I keep pictures everywhere. I thought I’d gotten rid of all of these.”
She cleared her throat. “I walk by this table every day, and I don’t even pay
attention. My cleaning lady must have…” She let her words drift off when she
saw the look in his eye. “Please don’t be angry about this.”

He wasn’t angry. He was terrified that he
was giving his heart to a woman who’d already given hers to someone else.
Nick’s words filtered through his head, taunting him. “Are you still in love
with him? Are you just using me to try and get over him, or to prove to him
that you can attract someone like me?”

A panic-stricken look crossed her face as
she reached out to him. “No! How can you even ask me that?”

“He was there tonight, wasn’t he?”

“Not because I invited him. He invited
himself; I told you that.”

“I noticed the flowers he sent you on the
back counter.” He hated feeling this way—jealous, insecure, uncertain of his
place in her life, despite the fact that she was wearing his ring and using his
last name. He’d seen it on her business cards tonight.
Alisa Bryson.
At
the time, it gave him hope, but with her cheating ex’s smiling mug staring him
in the face, he had to question whether he was just kidding himself.

“The party planner must have put them in a
vase and left the card…” Her fingernails bit into his wrist. “I didn’t even
notice them. You have to believe me.”

“Don’t you think I want to? The card said
he was looking forward to seeing you tonight. I thought you said you didn’t
know he was coming?” Those words haunted him all night, especially after his
conversation with Nick. He knew without a foundation of trust, he and Alisa had
nothing, but how could he believe her ex was out of the picture when he was
sending her flowers, calling, showing up to her parties, and she still had
pictures of the two of them together decorating her home after so many months apart?

“I didn’t until I read the card, and by
that time, it was too late to do anything about it. He knew that. I didn’t want
him there—”

“Yet you were talking to him when I came
in. What was that about?”

She ran a shaky hand through her mass of
waves. “Do we really have to do this right now? We were just about to…” She
gestured toward the bedroom. “Make love.”

Looking at Alisa, wearing only a scrap of
silk below the waist, was enough to drive every rational thought out of his
head, but this was too important to let slide. “We tried that once before,
remember? It didn’t solve our problems then, and I think it’s naïve to expect
it will this time.” He took the first two steps, intent on leaving. She was
right when she told them they needed more time to sort this out, and perhaps
she needed more time to decide whether she was really over her ex.

“Don’t go,” she whispered, reaching for his
shoulders to pull him back against her naked torso. She slid her hands inside
his open shirt as she dipped her tongue inside his ear.

As quickly as his arousal had surrendered
to an early demise, she stoked it again. Damn his traitorous body. He grabbed
her wrist. “This is a bad idea.”

She turned him toward her.

He braced his knee on the step in front of
him as he grabbed the hand railing. He needed something to hold on to,
something other than her soft curves.

Her full breasts were perfectly aligned
with his mouth as she threaded her hands through his hair. “Please, don’t leave
me like this.”

There was no way he could leave with that
kind of temptation staring him in the face. The rational part of his brain was
still warning him to get the hell out of there while he could, but his body already
belonged to her. He cupped her breasts in both his hands, kneading the plump flesh
as his tongue flicked over her nipples, drawing them slowly into his mouth.

“Liam…” His name sounded more like a soft
plea as she held his head in place. “That feels so good. Oh… I…”

He walked her backward toward the bedroom,
cursing his weakness with every step he took. This woman was obviously destined
to be his poison, the one thing he couldn’t resist, no matter how harmful she
may be. “I hate that I let you do this to me,” he admitted, arching to kiss her
neck. “I should be able to walk away, to…”

She was already tearing at his clothes,
leaving a trail in their wake by the time she dropped to her knees in front of
the bed.

“No, hell no,” he muttered, grabbing her
upper arms and flipping her onto her back on the bed. “You already have me
where you want me, in your bed. Now it’s my turn.” He reached into the pocket
of the pants lying on the floor, never taking his eyes off of her as he
sheathed himself. He dipped a finger inside of her, not surprised that she was
more than ready to take him.

For him, last time was all about forging a
bond with her, but this time, it would take all of his self-control to take her
body without giving her any more of his heart. Every time he heard her ex’s
name, it shredded him, knowing that he could be the warm body she needed to
fill her bed until she decided to take the love of her life back.

He’d give her what she needed physically,
but until she could give him what he needed emotionally, this marriage was one
of convenience, and he hated that. He never intended to fall in love with her,
never intended to give her the weapon to destroy him, but he had, and he didn’t
know how to retreat without putting some physical distance between them again.
He kept telling himself he just needed some time to regroup. Once he returned
home, to his daughter and his business, his life would resume as though
Hurricane Alisa had never blown through.

A feeling of dread claimed Alisa as she
felt him slide home. She was losing him; she could feel it. This was nothing
like the last time they made love. It was almost as though he was holding back
to punish her for making him feel too much.

She knew she could only do or say one thing
to get him back. “Look at me,” she said, seizing his chin. His eyes were glazed
with arousal, but she feared he may already be too far gone. “I’m falling in
love with you.”

His violent thrusts slowed to a gentle
slide as he stared into her eyes. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. I’m falling in love with
you.”

He closed his eyes as he lowered his head,
and she could tell he wanted to believe her, but he wasn’t ready to allow
himself to surrender to hope. “Alisa, please—”

“What I felt for him was nothing compared
to the way I feel about you.” She felt the hot burn of tears slide down her
face and into her hairline, but she didn’t care about exposing herself to
heartache anymore. If he left here tonight believing she was still in love with
her ex, it would be the biggest regret of her life. She reached up to pull him
down on top of her, needing the physical connection to prove to her that he
wasn’t ready to give up on them yet.

“This isn’t the time to—”

Alisa swallowed his protest by claiming his
mouth as she felt the burgeoning evidence of his arousal filling her. She felt
the shift, that second when she knew he was ready to believe her, and she could
finally breathe again.

He made love to her, slowly, thoroughly,
with everything he had to give before they finally surrendered to the intensity
of a climax that left them both speechless as they stared into each other’s
eyes trying to make sense of what had happened.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing away
the tears sliding down her cheeks. “No doubt in my mind. I don’t care what
people say. I don’t care that it’s too soon to feel so much. Hell, I don’t even
care that I’m giving you the power to ruin me…”

She sobbed as she absorbed his heart-felt
words. “I don’t want him.” It was suddenly imperative that she obliterate the
biggest obstacle in their path to happiness. “I only want you. Please tell me
you believe me.”

“I do,” he said, kissing her shoulder. “I
do.”

“You’re in San Francisco and he’s here. I
don’t want you to question what I’m thinking or how I’m feeling when we’re not
together. It’s you I want to be with, not him.” She kissed his neck, ear, and jaw,
before finally settling on his lips.

“I believe you.” He slid off of her,
pulling her on top of him so she partially covered his chest with her body as
he stroked her hair. “I can’t promise you it’ll be easy to forget that he’s
here with you while I’m not, but…”

“I’ll call you every night,” she said,
kissing his chest. She propped her chin on his chest and looked up at him. “To
tell you I love you and I’m thinking of you. Just so you’ll know I’m not here
with anyone else.”

He winced. “Jesus, Alisa, I never
questioned whether you’d be sleeping with someone else. I know you wouldn’t do
that.”

“I’m sorry.” It pained her to see the look
of revulsion on his face. Nick Sinclair had already cost her so much. He
wouldn’t cost her the best thing that had ever happened to her; she wouldn’t
let him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

His fingertips trailed up and down her
back. “It’s not exactly the visual a guy wants to hold on to when he’s two
thousand miles away… his wife in bed with her ex.”

“It’s never gonna happen. I would never do
that to you.”

“Do you still love him?” he asked quietly,
running his fingers through her hair. “Just tell me the truth… Is there a part
of you that still loves this guy?”

“I thought he was my first love.” She
threaded her hand through his. “But now, being here with you, it makes me
wonder if what I felt for him was even love. It was never like this. What I
feel for you is so… different.”

He chuckled, the sound reverberating
through her, making her smile. “Yeah, it’s definitely intense between us.”

“Does that worry you?”

“I don’t know. I guess a little.” He held
their clasped hands out and the moonlight streaming through the window
reflected against the shiny band on his finger. “But I know I sure as hell
wouldn’t want to settle for less. I guess I was holding out, hoping to meet
someone who would convince me, without a doubt, she was the woman I was meant
to spend my life with.” He grinned. “I sat down beside you on that plane, and
as soon as I saw you, this voice in my head kept saying, ‘She’s the one,
stupid. Don’t let her get away.’”

Alisa laughed, loving that he didn’t take
himself too seriously or mind being the butt of his own jokes. “I never thought
it could happen, that whole love at first sight thing. I mean, I’d heard about
it happening to other people, but I never thought it would happen to me.”

He trapped her leg between both of his.
“What kind of guy did you imagine yourself ending up with?”

“I don’t know.” She smiled, loving the feel
of his strong arms wrapped around her as she settled into the peace of finally
making a decision about her marriage. “I definitely didn’t think it would be
someone like you.” She slid her hand over his chest and abdomen, enjoying the
feel of the hard ridges of his abdominal muscles beneath her fingertips.

“What’s that supposed to mean, someone like
me?”

“You’re strong, driven, successful,
domineering…” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Kind of like someone else I know.”

“If you’re comparing me to your father,
don’t. I’m already sensitive about the age thing.”

“Please,” she said, pulling back to look at
him. “Tell me you’re not serious. I don’t care about that. Do you?”

He shrugged. “I’m getting used to the
idea.”

“How does Abby feel about it?”

“I heard her tell her girlfriend I had good
taste in women.” He grinned. “So I think she’s okay with it.” He brought her
hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Just give me a sec to get
cleaned up, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”

After disposing of the condom and splashing
cold water on his face, Liam sat on the edge of the tub and tried to focus on the
simple task of breathing. The last time he’d let himself believe she was ready
for a commitment, she wasn’t, and he was blindsided the next morning. He didn’t
want that to happen again, but he couldn’t help but take a moment to imagine
what their life could be like if she meant what she said. She was in love with
him, not her ex,
him.