Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(77)

The question was, what had set her off?

She’d been doing well up until he went to get her some food. The next thing he knew, she was standing before Harold, looking as if the man had just destroyed her world.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Look, I don’t know what Harold Bradford said to upset you, but if I need to turn this car around and go punch him, I will.”

“No,” she said, sounding surprised. “It’s not like that.”

“Then tell me what he said.”

Once again, she shook her head and looked away.

He wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but couldn’t while he was driving. Instead, he bided his time until he got her to Vortal Headquarters. Grabbing her overnight bag, he led her inside. The glow of lights coming from rooms on the second floor told him Zeke and Martin were pulling a late nighter, but they would be too caught up in their work to notice him coming in with an emotional Chloe.

Reaching his apartment, he nodded toward the sofa. “Have a seat. I’ll get you something to drink.”

He removed his jacket before pouring them each some bourbon over ice, remembering to add a splash of cola to hers. He carried the drinks to the sofa and held hers out.

“Here you go,” he said, sitting beside her.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely. Her hands shook as she took the glass and drank.

“Talk to me, Chloe,” he urged quietly. A strand of her hair stuck to her cheek, so he brushed it away. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know where to begin.” Her grip tightened on the glass.

“What did Harold say to upset you?”

“He didn’t upset me.” She finally looked at him and her lips trembled with a smile. “He said something that made me hope.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He’s so unexpected.” A look of awe came over her face. “He makes me believe that so many things I’ve wanted desperately for years might be possible.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“It’s a miraculous thing!”

“Then why are you crying?” He brushed away her tears with his thumb.

“Because…” Fear lined her face as she searched his eyes. “What if I believe? What if I t-trust? And it all falls apart?”

“Oh, baby.” Setting their drinks aside, he drew her into his arms and held her tightly, his cheek pressed to the top of her head. He wanted to tell her everything would be fine, but meaningless reassurances never helped. “I don’t know. I don’t have the answers for you.”

“I want to believe,” she whispered against his chest. “But I’m so scared. I feel like I’m coming apart inside.”

He tipped her chin up so he could see her face. “What can I do? How can I help?”

She looked back at him, her turmoil tearing him to pieces. “Help me stop thinking.”

“How?” he asked, knowing he’d move mountains to take her tears away.

Lifting a hand, she laid it on his cheek. “Kiss me.”

The simple request broke his heart. If a kiss would soothe her, he’d kiss her for an eternity. Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers, brushing gently. He tried to keep the kiss light and comforting, but her mouth opened under his. She tasted sweet, so very sweet, his tongue couldn’t resist. Her arms wound around his neck as she moved closer, pressing her breasts against his chest.

The temptation to take the kiss deeper made him dizzy. He forced himself to lift his head. Sucking in a deep breath, he tried to cool his blood.

She sketched a line of kisses down his throat, then moved back up, trailing her tongue along his skin. A shiver of desire raced down his spine. God! He fought the urge to lower her onto her back and take her right there on the sofa.

He started to lean away, to tell her he wanted to comfort her, not seduce her. But her mouth covered his again with such hunger that he realized seduction was the comfort she wanted. She needed to lose herself in physical pleasure so her mind would stop whirling.

Cupping the back of her head, he gave in to the desire to thrust his tongue into her mouth. She thrust back, meeting and licking. He felt her fingers pulling his tie loose, then working the buttons of his dress shirt in a frenzy. When her hands spread over his bare skin, he sucked in a breath as need seared him.

She pushed him back until he lay on the sofa, his dress shirt pulled from the suit trousers. She straddled his lap, still wearing the strapless blue cocktail dress. It bunched about her hips as she settled onto him, her warmth covering his growing erection.

As he watched, speechless, she lifted her arms and began unpinning her hair. Her eyes, now heavy with passion, never left his. It was the traces of red that still rimmed those eyes, however, that got to him. As much as his body ached to find release inside of hers, his heart yearned even more to give her whatever she needed.

As the last hairpin fell to the floor, she shook her head. Her thick, mahogany hair tumbled about her.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered and touched a finger to her mouth.

Closing her eyes, she parted her lips as he traced his finger downward, over her chin, down her throat, past her collarbone, to the point where bare skin met the blue fabric of her dress.

That touch, almost reverent, made Chloe shiver. All her fractured spaces filled with need. Her fear calmed as her body lit with desire. Opening her eyes, she stared down at Luc. Lying on the sofa with his dress shirt open to reveal his hard torso, his disheveled blond hair framing his face, gave him a dangerous air that filled her with hunger.