Flynn's Kiss (Disarmed & Dangerous) (21 page)

Maybe after this trip it would be a good idea to return to England. She couldn’t call it home, she’d never had a home. Perhaps it was time to make one for herself instead of roaming around the world, pretending she didn’t need one.

With another long sigh, she picked her purse up from the arm of the sofa and turned. Her heart shot into her mouth as she froze.

Flynn leaned against the frame of the open door, his black Stetson tipped to the back of his head. His laser blue eyes pinned her to the spot. Warmth shot from her core through her entire body, rushing to cover her skin with an embarrassing blush. She felt the scald of it hit her hairline, and though the temptation was there to wipe her brow, she forced herself to remain stock still.

“Hey.” He tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and gave a small nod, making her heart lurch in a painful staccato rhythm. “You need any help?”

The pain in her chest increased tenfold as she hung on to her tears. The ultimate humiliation was knowing not only did her lover no longer want her, but he actually seemed to think he was being a gentleman offering to help hasten her on her way.

She gave a sharp shake of her head, unable to open her mouth to answer in case she embarrassed herself further by breaking down, sobbing and flinging herself in his arms. It wouldn’t achieve anything, she knew from experience. Just wanting something so desperately didn’t mean she would get it by pleading.

A life full of hard lessons had finally taught her.

He pushed away from the doorframe and turned as if to go, and then leaned down and reached for something beyond the door. As he turned back, he held a box in his hands. His eyes narrowed and his brow dipped as he stretched his arms toward her and held the box as an offering.

She stood frozen, unable to bridge the gap between them, her heart giving a painful knock against her ribs, her breath coming in short pants as she realized what the box held and knew he would never understand the ultimate cruelty of what he was doing. How much this would mean to her if he actually cared and how sad it made her at his empty offering.

She shook her head again, tried to take a step back, but came up against the side of the sofa.

“I bought you something.” His voice gruff, he took a step forward and pushed the box at her. Her hands came up automatically and grasped it as his arms dropped back down, and he tucked his hands into his pockets again, rocked back on his heels, and waited.

She dropped her gaze to the box and sighed. Probably better to get it over and done with so he could get out of there and she could go on her way. She turned her back to him, placed the box on the sofa, and lifted the lid. As a sob trapped in the back of her throat, a wild bird panicked and fluttering to be free, her eyes swamped with tears.

“Oh Flynn…” It was barely a husky, pained whisper. “What did you have to go and do that for?”

She stretched out a tentative hand and reverently stroked the beautiful velvet-soft material of the smoked gray Stetson, touched her fingertips to the amethyst Conchos, and swallowed hard, unable to look at him. It was even more thoughtful than she could have imagined. She thought he would have chosen something light and frivolous to bring a smile to her face, but instead he had poured in thought and care into selecting a Stetson so perfectly suited to her. The real woman residing under the guise of a bright, ditzy façade. The woman Flynn completely understood…and rejected.

About to drown in overwhelming pain, she withdrew her fingers from the Stetson and stood in silence, unable to voice a single word of gratitude.

“It’s a special.” His quiet voice came from behind her. She picked up the lid and replaced it on the box, blinking rapidly to rid herself of the threatening wash of tears as she shoved her wayward hair behind her ear. “I chose the amethyst myself…I thought they matched your eyes.”

She turned and he was closer than she had realized. She blinked him into focus and tried to smile, but the wobble from her lips made her tighten them as she met his piercing stare. She took a long steadying breath and gave another nod.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t like it?” His eyebrows twitched, and she wondered what it was he wanted from her.

“It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever been given.”

“Aren’t you going to try it on?”

“I’m sure it will fit just perfectly.”

He gave a tight smile.

“It was made for you. I told them your measurements.”

He raised his hand, scratched the side of his nose, blew out a breath, and then lifted his own hat off his head and threw it onto the sofa behind her. She raised a brow and wondered if he was going to get to the point before she missed her plane. A small flicker of amusement filtered through despite everything. Flynn, her man of few words. Like a candle being extinguished, the flicker was soon gone as she acknowledged he was no longer her man.

“I met Rachel coming out of your lodge the other morning.”

His brief flash of surprise confused her. It wasn’t laced with guilt.

“She was there all of three minutes.”

“It looked as though she stayed the night. She certainly implied she had. She said you were in the shower.”

He dipped his head; his mouth twisted in a wry smile.

“I was. Ironic. I didn’t have time to come and see you before I left, but you visited all the same. I never realized.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked her direct in the eye. “She didn’t stay. She wanted me to take her to Hollywood, and she very possibly would have risked kissing me and throwing up if it meant I would have taken her.” He shook his head and gave a disgusted snort. “I declined.”

She believed him. There was nothing further to say. It didn’t change their situation, but she believed him.

“I have a question.” Her eyes widened in surprise at the sound of his voice and his sudden change of subject.

“Yes?” Her heart stammered, and she could have sworn her heated flesh had started to glow. If he didn’t hurry up, she was going to start throwing herself at him, and she refused to humiliate herself any further. What he lacked for in conversation, she knew he made up for in quiet contemplation and intelligent observation. She was afraid he’d had too long to think and he was going to cripple her with his question.

“When you told me you fall in and out of love easily…” At his pause, she closed her eyes. “…when was the last time?” Puzzled, her eyes flickered open and she was burned by his intensity. She opened and closed her mouth, but no sound would emerge from her throat.

He gave an irritated huff.

“Come on, Liberty. When was the last time you declared undying love to a man?”

It wasn’t so difficult.

“Three days ago—to you.”

His jaw flexed as he ground his teeth, and his eyebrows slammed down over the top of his bright blue eyes, making her take a hasty step back so her knees nudged the arm of the sofa again.

He blew out a breath, turned, and paced three steps to the door and then back again, coming in closer this time.

“Okay, we’ll play it your way.”

She didn’t quite understand. It wasn’t a game to her and she wasn’t playing.

“Do you still believe yourself in love with me, or have you fallen out of love so quickly already?”

Ah, maybe she did understand, although why he was pressing the point was beyond her. With a jerky shrug, she met his eyes.

“I still love you…” Her gaze slid from his as she jerked her shoulders again. “…but it won’t take long when I’ve gone to forget you.”

His long, slow smile was almost her undoing, and then he raised his hand and stroked his index finger down the length of her nose. When he reached the end, he gave it a small prod and removed his finger, giving a lopsided grin that almost melted her heart.

“So. Back to my original question, Liberty. Before me, when was the last time you declared yourself in love?”

She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t tell him a lie, but the truth of it was going to ruin her.

She dropped her gaze to the pulse she could see throbbing in the base of his throat and wondered how he’d managed to make her feel like a teenage girl when she was considerably older than him and should be the one in charge.

“The last time, umm…let me think.” Her chin lifted, bringing her gaze back to his as he rolled his eyes and tutted. It was no good prevaricating, she was running out of time. She might as well scare him off as quickly as she could and go catch her flight.

“I was thirteen. I fell in love with my mathematics teacher. He told my foster parents, and they were humiliated by my passion. So they returned me to the care home.” She tried to make it concise, but she could feel the youthful hurt of rejection bubbling up through her chest.

He stepped closer, raised a hand to cup her cheek, and tempted her to close her eyes and nuzzle in, but instead she pulled away. It wasn’t his sympathy she wanted. Surprising her, he reached out farther and wrapped a tendril of her hair around his finger, tugging her in until he was nose-to-nose with her.

“You never fell in love with anyone else until me?”

“No, I learned my lesson.”

“You lied.”

“No. I make friends easily and leave them behind just as easily.”

“But you don’t.”

“I don’t under—” He jerked her hair.

“You’re a highly intelligent woman. Of course you understand. You may live a solitary existence, but I’ve never known a person have so many people genuinely like them. You’ve never left a single friend behind. You connect with them by computer, by mail, by telephone, you send gifts and cards. You have to be the friendliest woman I know.” He gave another sharp yank, a rapid kiss on her lips, and then leaned back to stare down at her again. “But you lied to me. You told me not to worry because you fell in and out of
love
easily. It’s been almost twenty years since you last fell in love according to what you just told me. Unless you’re lying to me now. You’ve obviously had relationships.”

“They weren’t the same. I held them in great affection, but I never desperately loved them.”

“Like you love me.”

The trapped sob escaped and her eyes filled, so all she could do was stare at his blurry image. His fingers slid through her hair to cup the back of her head. She lifted her hands and rested them on his chest, felt the rapid beat of his strong heart.

“Flynn, don’t …”

“Like I love you.”

She pushed with all her might and surprised him into taking two steps backward so she could escape. But as she rushed for the door, his fingers snaked around her wrist and he whipped her back around.

“It’s too late.” She motioned with her hand to all the boxes lining the wall. “I have to leave, I’ve signed a contract to go back to New Zealand for six months. I can’t break it.”

“Uh-huh.” He dropped her wrist and walked toward the door, stepped out for a moment, and then reappeared with a rucksack as big as her, filled to exploding point. He dumped it on the floor at her feet. “I’m coming with you.”

“What?”

Buoyed by his own stupidity, he gave her a wild grin.

“Yup, I can do six months in New Zealand. Then I think it’ll be time for us both to come home, settle down. It’s been a long time since I felt I had a home, and even longer for you.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, drew her body into his, raised his hand, and gave a soft touch to her cheek. “We could get married. There are a couple of properties for sale here, or if you’d rather live in England…”

“Flynn.” She placed her fingers on his lips to stop him from talking. As she shook her head, he kissed her fingertips and talked through them.

“Don’t, Liberty. Don’t say no. I’ll follow you around the world, I’ll do whatever you want, but I won’t let you out of my sight again.” He gave a rapid peck to her fingers again, his sharp eyes piercing through her soul, and she found herself laughing. Laughing with joy as she flung her arms around his neck, placing desperate kisses all over his face, his beautiful, perfect face.

In all her travels she had never imagined finding a man more suited to her than Flynn. How could he even believe she had been about to say no?

“I was only going to say I would rather live here than in England. I love it here. I found you here.”

He wrapped his arms tight around her, lifted her bodily from the floor until her feet dangled in the air as he buried his face in her neck, and snuggled in as though he’d never let her go, and she knew in her heart, he never would.

Diane Saxon lives in the Shropshire countryside with her tall, dark, handsome husband, two gorgeous daughters, a Dalmatian, one-eyed kitten, ginger cat, and four chickens.

After working for years in a demanding job, on-call and travelling great distances, Diane gave it all up when her husband said “follow that dream.”

Having been hidden all too long, her characters have burst forth demanding plot lines of their own and she’s found the more she lets them, the more they’re inclined to run wild.

http://www.dianesaxon.com

She wrapped her large beach towel around her and came above deck to find Dante had already changed into a pair of white swimming trunks. She held her breath when she saw his tanned, trim body. He had a smattering of black hair on his chest and looked very muscular. His chest was broad and she longed to run her fingers over its contours and lay her head on it. She inhaled, exhaled and tried to keep her composure.

“Come on, Joanne,” he teased. “Drop the towel….” His chocolate brown eyes glinted devilishly.

She let her towel fall to the floor and watched as his eyes widened, with desire she presumed.

“Mamma Mia. Why do you fear showing your body to me? You are beautiful…and that gold chain around your stomach, it makes you look very sexy…”