Liam's Witness Protection (Man On A Mission 4) (12 page)

He owned the world. His world. But unless Caterina Mateja could be silenced, his world would collapse around his ears. That was
not
going to happen. He’d killed to reach the top, and he’d killed to stay on top. He’d killed small men and great ones. He’d killed men who were nearly as vicious and ruthless as he was, but not quite. Not quite. He had always been the victor. That was not going to change. So one slight woman—a woman who couldn’t even prevent him from taking her body wherever and whenever he wanted—was not going to vanquish him. Caterina would die. And Vishenko’s empire would be secure again.

* * *

After Callahan left, reminding them he’d be back to check on them that evening, Liam told Cate, “We’ll go stir-crazy cooped up in this cabin. Let’s take a walk.”

Cate finished putting away the breakfast dishes from the dish drainer. “Okay.”

Not the most enthusiastic response, but Liam didn’t care about that. He needed to get Cate talking to him again, to find out exactly what she meant about not killing Vishenko when she had the chance. Not just because his curiosity had been piqued, but because he needed to understand. And at the same time, needed to make her understand something important, too.

Not killing someone—not even someone as evil as Vishenko—didn’t make you a coward. Not everyone could kill. Liam didn’t have that strict moral inhibition, but that didn’t mean he took killing lightly. He didn’t.

He’d killed three times now, the last being one of the shooters in the courthouse. The first time he’d taken a human life he’d brooded over it until Alec had forcefully reminded him of what would have happened if he hadn’t done it—that the diplomat he’d been protecting would have been assassinated, and the peace deal the man had been trying to broker would have been destroyed. The second time, Liam had handled on his own. He’d examined his conscience minutely, but had walked away secure in his belief that he’d done the right thing for the innocents involved.

The same went for what he’d done in the courthouse. He regretted the
necessity
, but he didn’t regret the killing. He was even more convinced now of the rightness of what he’d done than he’d been at the time, because he knew Cate now. Because he knew what she’d suffered at Vishenko’s hands. Because he knew she didn’t deserve to die for trying to put Vishenko behind bars where he belonged.

But, just because he could kill and Cate couldn’t, didn’t make her a coward. He didn’t know the circumstances, for one thing. In a life-or-death situation he could pull the trigger. But a preemptive killing? He didn’t think so. The rule of law had to be the rule of law for everyone, himself included, or society as a whole would crumble.

He watched as Cate sat at the kitchen table, tugged her sneakers back on and tied the laces. Her slender wrists caught his attention as she did that—wrists that bore the evidence of how brave Cate really was. Somehow he had to make her understand.

They walked in silence for a while, uphill mostly, saving their breath for the climb. Occasionally a leafy branch or two from the tall bushes lining the path blocked their way, and Liam did his best to hold them back so Cate would have clear access. He’d chosen this path because he thought he remembered it led to a waterfall, and the faint sound of rushing water in the distance grew louder the farther they went, confirming his hunch. Eventually the path opened up into a rocky clearing at the base of a pristine waterfall, and they both stopped short.

The water wasn’t a rushing torrent, but a steady stream, and as it fell fifty feet and splashed into the basin at the bottom it was even more beautiful than memory had painted it. Cate grasped his arm and said, “Oh, Liam! How lovely!”

“I thought you’d like it.” He deliberately didn’t look down at her hand holding his arm, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that she was touching him voluntarily. But just the idea sent a thrill coursing through his body.

The face she turned to him was soft and vulnerable, almost the same way she’d looked sleeping in his arms last night, and her silvery-blue eyes were lit from within. “I do like it. Oh I do.” She faced the waterfall again. “How close can we get? Can we walk behind the falls?”

“If you don’t mind getting wet—and that water is
cold
—we can walk behind it all the way to the other side. I’ve done it before.”

“Oh let’s do it.” Her excitement was contagious. “I don’t mind getting wet.”

“Take my hand then. The rocks can be slippery.” She hesitated for a second and glanced down, as if she suddenly realized she’d taken hold of his arm as if it came naturally to her. Then she slid her hand in his, and carefully they picked their way across the rocks. Spray from the waterfall hit them occasionally, and Cate squealed like a little girl each time. It made Liam smile, because he’d never seen this youthful side of Cate. Had never known her as anything other than the somewhat somber woman she was now. But at the same time his heart ached that her life for the past nine years had been so restricted, had contained so little
fun.
She was only twenty-five. Far too young to be so serious.

He led her carefully behind the waterfall, then paused so she could gaze through the cascading water. Viewing the world from the back of the falls was a unique experience. They were both damp from the spray and mist, and—as he’d warned—the water was cold. But Cate didn’t seem to mind, so neither did he. When she turned back and smiled at him, her face aglow, he couldn’t help it—he kissed her. He gently pulled her into his embrace, and when she didn’t resist he kissed her until they were both breathless. Then he brushed the mist from her face and kissed her eyes closed.

She stayed like that for a minute, then opened her eyes and stared at him. Dazed. Confused. “Why did you do that?” she asked in a breathless whisper. “Why did you kiss me that way?”

“Because you smiled at me like a woman who wanted to be kissed.” He drew a deep breath. “Tell me you wanted me to kiss you, Cate. If it’s the truth, please tell me.”

“Yes,” she said, her face and her voice betraying just how much the truth surprised her. “Yes. I wanted you to kiss me.”

Chapter 12

T
hey were almost completely drenched by the time they made their way back to the cabin, but the late summer sun was so warm—even that far up on the mountain—they were still comfortable.

Cate wanted to let Liam shower and change first, but he refused. “I’m okay. You go ahead,” he said, pushing her gently in the direction of the bathroom, “and I’ll make some lunch for us.”

She grabbed clean, dry clothes from her suitcase and hurried into the bathroom, wanting to be quick so Liam wouldn’t have to stand around in damp clothes too long. She stripped out of her sodden clothing, then stepped under the warm spray. Only then did she realize she’d been colder than she thought, and the warm shower was welcome. She combed out her damp hair afterward and pinned it back, then stared at herself in the mirror for a minute—at a stranger. This woman was young and almost giddy—with a smile she didn’t recognize. A smile that reflected the torch inside her.

Liam had done this to her. Liam had turned her into a stranger to herself. A woman who smiled easily and laughed at the absurdities of life. A woman who could have fun doing simple things. A woman she wanted to be...for him.

Then her smile faded. She wanted to be that woman for Liam...but she couldn’t be. Because her past would never let her be that woman. Never.

* * *

Liam woke when Cate cried out in her sleep. And he knew the nightmare had come again. This time, though, when he turned on the light, called her name and touched her arm to wake her, she didn’t fight him off. But her whole body was trembling uncontrollably, just as it had last night.

And just as he’d done last night, Liam picked her up and carried her to the rocking chair. Cradling her in his arms and rocking until she stopped shaking. He stared sightlessly at the shadowed recesses of the room, his eyes burning with the tears he was crying inside for what she’d suffered...and was still suffering. When she finally lay quiescent against him, he found the strength to overcome his mindless anger at the man who’d instilled this fear in her and said as gently as he could, “Tell me, Cate.”

Her little whimper of pain was a dagger in his heart. “I...can’t,” she breathed in a broken, nearly soundless whisper.

“Yes, you can,” he reassured her. “You can tell me anything. Don’t you know that by now?” His voice dropped a notch. “Tell me. Whatever it is, it’s holding you prisoner now just as much as he held you prisoner then. Tell me and you can let it go. Tell me and the power those memories have over you will fade.” He brushed his lips against her forehead in a nonsexual kiss. “Tell me, Cate.”

It all came spilling out. Halting, choked sentences. Heartbreaking whispers. She clutched his T-shirt with one desperate hand as words of agony beyond anything he could have imagined poured out of her. And through it all he kept the rocking chair moving. Moving. Letting the repetitive motion soothe and comfort her the way it would a child.

Forever later she came to the end of her story, but still they rocked. His arms were tight bands around her, as if he could shelter her that way from every terrible moment she’d endured. But he knew it was far and away too late for that. All he could do was hold her
now.
Shelter her
now.

Her breath fluttered in her throat in the silence that followed her confession. Liam wanted to say something—anything—to break that weighty silence, but no words came to him at first. Then he realized what he needed to say. What she needed to hear. “The past is the past, Cate. Let it go. Just let it go.” Her grasp on his T-shirt tightened, and she murmured something he couldn’t hear. “What did you say?”

“I’m trying,” she breathed, loud enough for him to hear this time. “I’ve
been
trying for seven years. But I—”

He shook his head. “No, you haven’t. You haven’t been trying to relinquish the past. You’ve been trying to outrun it, and that won’t work. The past will always catch up with you if you try to outrun it. You’ve got to just let it go.”

Her voice was very small when she said, “I don’t know how.”

“Give it to me.” And as he said the words he knew they were the right ones, even though in one way they made absolutely no sense. But it was what Cate needed to hear. He didn’t know
how
he knew, just that the knowledge was branded into his consciousness. “Let me carry that burden for you, sweetheart. You’ve carried it long enough.” The endearment slipped out, but Cate either didn’t focus on it, or she accepted it—he wasn’t sure which.

“I can’t ask you to—”

“You’re not asking. I’m volunteering. There’s a difference. Let me do this for you.”

“Liam.” Just his name, but his heart ached at the way she said it. As if he’d given her something wondrous. Something precious and dear to her. Something she’d never forget.

* * *

Emotion welled up in Cate’s throat as Liam made her that offer, thinking about how wonderful it would be if she
could
surrender her past to him. If he could take the shame and guilt and pain she’d harbored inside her since the day she became Vishenko’s prisoner, if he could free her from the weight she’d carried all these years.

Even though she knew—rationally—the only one who could free her was herself, the idea was tempting. Seductive. Nearly as tempting and seductive as it felt being in Liam’s arms. So strong. So protective. In the shelter of his embrace was the only place she wanted to be...now and always.

But that was crazy thinking. No matter what Liam said, her past would always color her future—which meant she could never have a future with a man like him. No matter what he said now, he couldn’t erase the knowledge of what she’d been...what she’d done...from his mind any more than she could. No matter how much she wanted to.

And she
did
want to. She wanted that more than anything in the world. More than she could ever put into words. She wanted it with an intensity that swept everything else aside, an intensity she’d only felt once before—the hate she had for Vishenko.

But what she was feeling now wasn’t hate—far from it. A new emotion unfurled tiny petals deep within her as she laid with her head pillowed against Liam’s shoulder. An emotion she didn’t dare name, but which made her wish in a hopeless, helpless way, she could tell him what his offer meant to her. Not just now, but in the future. She would never be completely free of her past. But maybe, just maybe, the guilt and shame could be banished...with Liam’s help.

Before she could stop herself, she pressed her lips against the warm, bare column of Liam’s neck, so invitingly close.

* * *

Liam’s entire body was electrified when Cate’s lips brushed his skin. He tried not to respond, quickly tried to diagram and parse a complex sentence in his head to get his mind off the fact that he was holding Cate the way he’d dreamed of holding her...and
she’d
kissed
him
. But his body had a mind of its own, and she was having a totally predictable effect on him. An effect he’d be damned if she realized. He tried to surreptitiously pull away, tried to shift in the rocking chair so she wouldn’t notice him swelling against her thigh, but it was already too late.

Their gazes met, and Cate’s eyes held the knowledge that he wanted her—how had she put it?—
that
way. The knowledge in her eyes was followed by acceptance. And instead of making Liam glad, it made him angry. Not at her, but at himself. At the world. And most especially at Vishenko.

“It’s okay,” she told him, raising one hand to cradle his cheek.

“No, it’s not,” he said abruptly, catching her hand with his and forcing it away.

“You want me.” She swallowed noticeably. “I don’t mind, Liam. I don’t.”

His anger spilled over. “I don’t want you to not
mind
,” he grated. “I want you to want it, too. As much as I do.”

Her pale blue eyes darkened as shadows filled them. “I can’t.” Regret colored her words, and Liam knew in her heart she believed it. “Even though I want to, I can’t. He...he killed that part of me,” she whispered. “I can never...feel those things other women feel.”

Liam wasn’t given to believe in divine intervention. But he suddenly knew—as if God was whispering in his ear—what he had to do. For Cate. Because it had just become his personal mission—his quest for the Holy Grail—to prove her wrong. He had to prove Vishenko hadn’t destroyed the inner woman when he’d tortured and abused her body. He had to prove she
could
feel what other women felt...when the act was done out of love.

The knowledge that he loved her wasn’t the revelation he’d thought it would be. It had grown on him steadily, inevitably, like an incoming tide, until he finally accepted it with nothing more than an
Of course!
As if he should have known it all along. Love. All consuming. All encompassing. Flooding his body with an awareness he felt even in his fingertips.

The number of days they’d known each other didn’t matter—he’d been with her almost constantly since the moment he’d saved her life. He’d held her as she wept as if her heart were breaking. He’d lain beside her the other night, knowing he couldn’t do anything else
but
hold her, but knowing, too, he would have given anything to take away her pain—no matter the cost to him. He’d rocked her to sleep last night, helping her drive off the demons that invaded her dreams. But she’d never given up. She was fighting for her life—her
emotional
life—just as much now as she’d fought to free herself physically years ago. From first to last she’d shown him nothing but unbelievable bravery. He
knew
her. Deep in his soul he knew her...and recognized she was the one.

He raised his hand and lightly brushed his fingertips against her cheek, then tucked her hair behind her ear. She didn’t flinch away, as she’d done the first time he’d touched her. And Liam knew this was the moment. It wouldn’t be the way he’d dreamed of making love to her. But if he had anything to say about it, it would be the way she’d dreamed of having a man make love to her when she’d been a starry-eyed teenager all those years ago—and still did. Secretly. With every romance novel she read. Totally for her. Nothing for himself, except the knowledge that he was freeing her from a nightmare that had never ended, not even when she escaped seven years ago. Because she was still in chains forged by her mind.

“Cate.” Just her name. Nothing more. But the color seeped into her cheeks at the intensity in his voice.

“It’s okay,” she whispered again, and this time Liam didn’t draw back, though he wanted to vehemently deny what she had to be thinking when she made him that offer. She honestly thought he could take her body and use it for his own selfish needs, as if he was no better than men who paid for sex or forced women against their will. But he couldn’t
tell
her different. He had to
show
her.

He started slow. And gentle. Stroking his fingers along the contours of her face so delicately she would feel it as the brush of butterfly wings. Whispering her name so she’d know he knew who he was with, who he was making love to. Showing her the wonder, the magic.

Her eyes drifted closed, and Liam took that as a good sign. That, and the soft sighs he knew she wasn’t aware of, but which told him he was definitely on the right track.
Oh, sweetheart,
he told her in his mind.
We’re just getting started. There’s so much more to come. I’m going to make it so good for you, you won’t remember anything else. Just here. Just now. Just love. Sweet, sweet love.

He stood, still cradling her in his arms, and carried her back to the bed. Laying her down gently, then following her down and stretching out beside her. Letting her feel him hot and hard everywhere his body touched hers, but not holding her down. Not using his strength against her in any way.

He wanted to blurt out how much he loved her, explain that this experience was as new for him as it was for her, but he knew words were meaningless in this situation. The knight-errant in him assumed control of his body, his mind. Dictating what to do, where to touch her, and for how long. To maximize her pleasure. To leave her shuddering with the intensity love brought to lovemaking. To bring her to completion with just his hands. His lips. His heart.

He didn’t try to remove her clothes, sensing she needed that protection, that mental barrier. But his hands roamed her body lightly, caressingly. Letting her know what was coming next, and giving her the chance to object if he did anything she didn’t like. She didn’t object, and Liam said a little prayer of thanks. He would have stopped instantly if she grew fearful or showed any sign that what he was doing wasn’t right, but he didn’t want to stop. He had something to prove...to her.

He rubbed his cheek against her nipples—first one, then the other—and felt them bead in response beneath her pajama top. Then he suckled, dampening the material as he pulled both it and her nipple into his mouth. And knew by her response that she loved what he was doing, which encouraged him to go further.

He slid one hand beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms and panties, but slowly. Again giving her time to protest what he was doing because he’d be damned before he did anything she didn’t want. When his fingers brushed lower her whole body tightened in panic, and he paused. Waiting.

Without removing his hand, he nuzzled her cheek. “It’s me, Cate,” unerringly discerning she needed the reminder.

She breathed his name, but endless moments passed before she relaxed. He didn’t immediately move his hand. Instead he kissed her behind her ear, then teased her earlobe with his tongue and teeth until she shivered with a response she couldn’t hide. Then and only then did he proceed.

It didn’t take as long as he’d feared it might. He hoped it was a good sign—that Cate had feelings for him, that she might someday love him as he loved her. But that wasn’t the most important thing at this moment. His gift to her didn’t come with strings attached.

“It’s okay, Cate,” he whispered when he finally brought her to the brink. When little tremors shook her body and she bit her lip in a last-ditch effort to control the sensations he knew were sweeping through her. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Let go. Just let go. I’ll catch you. I won’t let you fall.”