She felt Dylan climbing the stairs behind her, the heavy tread of his boots making more than the stairs vibrate. Yeah, she’d be better for having known him, for discovering that letting someone else take control every once in a while wasn’t the end of the world. In fact, it was kind of…liberating.
“The menu is steak on the grill or pasta in the kitchen,” he said, topping the stairs and pausing.
She sat the bottle on the small round table. “Well, I’m not sure I trust myself in your kitchen.” Truth was, she wasn’t very hungry at the moment. Too many things whirling around in her brain had an unsettling effect.
Rather than head to the door, he crossed the deck toward her. She had a wild thought to run, just race down the stairs, jump in her car and tear down the mountain, keep on driving until she was out of town, out of his life.
Because the way he looked at her made her heart hurt. And she wasn’t sure she could manage the pretense of this being another one of her wild flings. It was wild, what happened when they were together, but nothing about Dylan felt remotely flinglike. And when he stopped in front of her, concern in those golden-brown eyes of his, eyes that saw her so clearly it scared her, she doubted four months was long enough to burn him out of her system.
“What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong down there? Never mind, I know I did. If it’s about the handcuffs, I really didn’t mean to insult you about helping in town—”
She laughed and choked on a little sob at the same time. He really was adorable. And wonderful. And sexy as hell. And she wanted him to be all hers. There. She’d said it, even if only to herself. “You didn’t insult me. And I’m fine. Just not all that hungry.”
He cocked his head and stared at her. “Sure?”
“Yep. Maybe just a glass of wine, out here on the deck?”
He stared at her a moment longer, then said, “Okay.” But she suspected he knew she wasn’t okay. Not entirely. He went inside for a corkscrew and she turned her gaze to the valley sprawled below.
Okay. She wanted him. Not for a fling, but for the duration, however long that would be. Forever, maybe. If she was lucky. Only for the first time in her life, she wasn’t sure how to go about getting what she wanted. Dylan wasn’t like anyone else she’d ever met. He wouldn’t simply fall at her feet because she willed it to happen. And if she came on too strong, he’d only flip the tables on her. If she tried the timid approach… She stopped right there, since that was simply too laughable to consider. Besides, he’d never buy it, anyway.
Which left…being herself. Whatever the hell that was. But whatever it was, it had gotten her this far.
Damn, but this falling in love stuff was terrifying. She wished she could call Natalie. Nat had been through this…this free-fall-with-no-safety-net feeling. And she’d understand, not question it, as hers had happened just like it was happening for Liza—coming straight at her, speeding into her life like a comet, on a direct collision course with her heart.
It defied every one of Liza’s goal-achieving strategies. Instead, it demanded she put it all on the line, throw herself out there and pray like hell that being the vague, undefined entity known as “herself” was enough. Risk the pain of realizing it might not be, not for him. Not that failure itself was all that painful for her. But the broken heart that would come with it would be excruciating.
“Come with me.” His deep voice and warm hand in hers pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, expecting to find him holding wineglasses. But he was empty-handed, except for her. He turned, pulling her along behind him. She went silently, curious about what he had up his sleeve this time.
It struck her, as they wound their way into his living room, how comfortable she was, how much trust she’d built up in him. Here she was, halfway through his house, and not once had it occurred to her to try and wangle the scenario to her advantage. Or, more to the point, to her control.
Maybe, she considered, her heart had already figured out what her head had taken a bit longer to realize. That whatever he did with her, for her, to her, was to her advantage. That he was a man who had, if she thought about it, always put her needs first. Sometimes knowing what those needs were before she did.
So when he led her up the curving wrought-iron staircase to the loft above, she went along willingly. Anticipating whatever he had planned…without a thought toward trying to take over. Because she finally understood what he’d been trying to tell her all along. That this wasn’t about who was on top. This was about giving in, not only to him, but to herself. It was about trust, and knowing it was as important for him to give as it was for her to learn to take.
My God, she thought with a happy little grin. I think I finally grew up.
17
DYLAN STARED AT THE SCENE he’d set, smiled ruefully, suddenly feeling stupid, then stepped aside so Liza could see. Her gasp of surprised pleasure made taking the risk worthwhile.
“I know they’re not all that pretty. Mostly I keep them for when the power goes out.”
She turned away from the lit candles that dotted the nightstands, dresser and windowsills. “They’re beautiful.” She moved into his arms. “And so are you.”
He smiled. “Yeah, I’m a regular Don Juan.” Then his smile faded and he pulled her more tightly against him. “I know it sounds foolish, and you’ve probably been wined and dined by men better at it than me, but—”
She pressed her fingers to his lips. “Maybe so. But there’s calculated seduction, and then there’s…well, you.”
Dylan laughed. “Gee, thanks.”
“No, that’s not how I meant it.” She tried to wriggle free, only he didn’t let her.
He wanted her right where he could touch her, hold her, smell her, taste her when he felt like it. It should alarm him that he’d become so obsessed so quickly, but he didn’t care.
“I just meant, well, you’ve already had me, and given what just happened in your own driveway, it’s a safe bet you could have me again.” Her dry smile faded. “So there was no need for all this, and yet you did it anyway. That’s what I meant. It’s more romantic than any polished and perfected little scene, because you wanted to do it for me, just because.”
Dylan grinned. “Well, there might have been a little calculation involved.”
She cocked her head. “Oh?”
He shuffled her backward, until the mattress bumped the backs of her legs. “I thought that maybe with all this flickering candlelight, I could distract you long enough so you’d let me do this.” He pushed her back and fell with her onto the bed, careful to lever himself so he didn’t crush her.
“This?” she said, a bit breathlessly.
He leaned in, trapping her hands beside her head. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “No cuffs, no games, no power struggles, just…this.” He lowered his head and took her mouth, gently this time, exploring what was there instead of simply invading it.
When he shifted his attentions to the fine line of her jaw, then her neck and that delectable little curve of her shoulder, she sighed. “I’m liking this.”
“Good,” he murmured, “because I have a lot more of it in mind.”
This time they undressed each other. Slowly. Lazily exploring every nuance, every dip and sinew. By the time Dylan pulled her beneath him, he didn’t think he’d ever felt so deeply connected to anyone. And when he slid inside her and she wrapped herself tight around him, he couldn’t ignore the sensation that he’d come home.
“Liza,” he whispered, as he thrust slowly, distinctly, inside of her.
Her eyes fluttered open and he thought he might drown in what he saw there. “Mmm,” was all she managed in answer.
You’re mine, he thought, and for a split second he thought he’d said the words out loud. Maybe he should. He felt like shouting them. And he knew it wasn’t just the way she contracted around him, holding him inside her like they were built to fit as exactly as they did. Because he felt just like this sitting at his desk, thinking about her.
He was in love with her. It was crazy. And it didn’t matter. His head knew. And now his heart did, too.
“Hold on to me,” he told her. And she did. He moved deeper, never once wavering from her steady gaze. Then he rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him. Her eyes widened in surprise, then they both groaned as she settled her weight on him, and he sank even more deeply into her.
“And just when I was getting used to being on the bottom,” she quipped, then gasped as he lifted his hips.
“I like keeping you off balance,” he said, his own lips spreading in a wide grin.
She clamped her knees to his sides and rode him steadily, making him gasp and buck instinctively. “Better watch out, I’m a fast learner.”
He rolled her to her back, causing her to shriek with a little laugh, her head almost off the bed. “So we’ll teach each other,” he said, then paused in midthrust, surprised at the fleeting expression that had crossed her face. “What?”
“Don’t stop, I’m fine.”
He trapped her face in his hands. “No, you avoided the question earlier. Now tell me. Am I moving too fast?”