Butterfly Cove Read online

  “I...couldn’t sleep. I heard a noise.”

  But he did not release her. “Are you okay?”

  It took Olivia a moment to understand the question. He was worried that he had hurt her in his sudden force. “You mean, did you hurt me just now? You didn’t.”

  A wave of air escaped from his locked lips. He seemed to be struggling to shake off dark memories.

  “Rafe, I’m fine.” She cleared her throat, feeling his thighs lock against her. “I heard a sound. You were moving in your sleep. That’s all.”

  “That’s all?” he repeated slowly. “I must have been damn noisy if I woke you up.”

  “You didn’t wake me. I wasn’t sleeping very well. I heard stones against the window, and I came down to check the doors.”

  Rafe rolled over and sat up quickly. “Was the noise from a window or from the attic?”

  Olivia shook her head. She couldn’t manage to find words, not when his jeans gaped open and she felt his skin warm against her arm. The harsh, masculine beauty of his body called out to her, and she shivered in intimate response.

  What if they could go back? What if all the years of uncertainty and pain could simply fall away?

  She reached out. Her trembling fingers moved along his chest, and the force of that simple touch made Olivia’s breath catch. All her old, hungry memories came back and she realized then there had never been room for another man in her life. Rafe had filled up every part of it. There never would be another man in her future.

  “Don’t look at me that way, damn it.” His voice was raw. “One of us had better be sane now. I don’t think it’s going to be me.”

  Her fingers locked on the long, finely knitted shawl. It seemed to give her strength and clarity. She had created every inch of the fine lace with looped and twisted threads of silk and alpaca. A voice whispered that she could create a future with Rafe from this moment, the same way she had worked the loving and careful stitches of the shawl. If they were very careful and very brave, it could happen.

  “Do you want me to go? You want me to tell you that I don’t want to be here pulling off your jeans until my skin melts all over you? Because I won’t say that. I won’t lie to you, Rafe. Tonight you said you’d thought about me every day since you were gone. Yet you never wrote and you never called. I tried to put you out of my life—and I almost managed to believe I had succeeded. But you were always there. You were a shadow in the twilight and a movement out of the corner of my eye at dawn. I saw you on the coast road. I heard your laughter on the beach.” Olivia took a rough breath. “Now you’re back and I’m not going to walk away from this. I’m not going to let you walk away from it either,” she said flatly. “If you’re too much of a coward to admit—”

  He shot upright and in the space of a heartbeat she was flat against the wall, captured against the angry line of his body. “You’re damn right I’m a coward. I’ve had too much time to think about what happened to us, Livie. We were oil and water. I was the bad kid from the wrong side of the tracks and you were the town’s model citizen. We should never have felt anything for each other. But I’m not going to screw up your life again. The thought of giving you pain makes me a coward,” he said grimly.

  She stared back at him, her fists on his chest. “And you’ll throw away everything we could have, all the future we could make together, because of the possibility that I might be hurt?” Anger began to burn through her. “Nothing is guaranteed in life. No weatherman, economist or spiritual adviser can give a certain answer about anything. I’m willing to stumble along, Rafe. We can work it out as we go. But if you’re not interested...”

  His hands opened, sliding into her hair; they tightened slowly to fists and his body locked against her. “Being interested isn’t the problem, Livie. Feel what you do to me. I can barely think or breathe for wanting you.” He pressed his thighs to hers and Olivia knew the full measure of his response. It was impossible to miss. “But I’m not offering you careless sex. I’m not interested in an hour here on the sofa. I want more. Do you understand?” He tilted her head back slowly and then sighed when his lips found the hollow beneath her ear. He goaded and searched, her name on his lips as he kissed his way lower. He kissed the pulse that throbbed at her throat. Then he leaned forward, resting an elbow against the wall, sliding his hand around her waist and pulling her against him.

  Olivia didn’t fight any part of it. She simply closed her eyes and followed the aching waves of sensation, knowing this was Rafe, this was the thing she had wanted for almost fifteen years, since she first understood what could happen between a man and a woman. She couldn’t deny either of them its blinding conclusion.

  “I’m not prepared, Livie.” His voice was rough, raw with his effort at control. “I can’t protect you. We need to stop here.”

  “I don’t care about that. I want you, Rafe.”

  He stared at her, and his eyes were dark with hunger. Then he cursed. “You should care. You don’t know where I’ve been or the things I’ve done.”

  “You’re here now. You’re with me. That’s all that matters,” she whispered. Her hands slid down, opening the waist of his jeans and Rafe choked out her name with a broken sound of satisfaction and anger. “We’re not going to have sex, Livie. I’m telling you that flatly.”

  She didn’t listen. She pushed the straining denim lower and searched the hard, muscled skin, finding her way by instinct in the moonlight. She felt him shudder and then her fingers closed along the fully aroused length of him.

  She wanted him so badly that she almost cried out with the frustration of waiting. “Now, Rafe. I want you inside me.”

  His fingers fell, gripping her hands in their intimate caress. “Hell.” He stood rigidly, his heart hammering for long moments. Olivia felt each beat, felt each bead of sweat on his forehead as he stared at her.

  “Don’t think, Rafe. Not now. Don’t make me wait. I’ve waited my whole life for you,” Olivia choked out, her voice breaking in its emotion.

  “Honey. I never meant to hurt you. And I won’t hurt you now,” he said roughly. His lips moved to hers. The heat of their tongues joined as they took and gave pleasure in hungry movements. Olivia had the taste of him on her mouth and it drove her mad with need. She jerked blindly at his jeans and felt Rafe finish the job, so that he stood naked and aroused before her. Her breath caught at the beauty of his body and the unrestrained power of his response for her.

  Her nightgown opened and fell to the floor, loosened by his deft fingers. All she wore now was the fine, knitted silk shawl that caressed her burning skin with the exquisite touch of a lover’s fingers.

  Rafe leaned down and kissed her through the fine silk. He found her hollows and teased the tips of her breasts and her aching thighs until Olivia couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She felt a breathless voice inside her, pleading for release, praying that she would finally know how her oldest fantasy was supposed to end. She wasn’t prepared for the way his teeth bit at her earlobe. Her breath caught at the rough friction of his callused palms on her breasts. But he kept the whisper-light silk between them, watching her face with total focus as he made her skin burn with pleasure. In his unflinching honesty he let her see his own need in turn.

  “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Livie. You were then. You still are.” His hungry mouth whispered dark praise against her skin, sliding aside the silk scarf but never letting it fall, keeping it between them to fuel their blind desire.

  “This isn’t going to be fast and easy. Accept that or we stop right now. I’ve dreamed about this moment for too long to hurry this,” he said harshly.

  She couldn’t frame a word that made any kind of sense. All she could do was nod.

  “Well, then, let’s make some history, honey.”

  Olivia’s nails dug into his shoulders. She heard him give a little grunt.

  “If it’s good, you have to wait. And this is going to be far more than good.” He curved her body backward, secu
re in his arms while he traced the line of her ribs, her stomach and the shadowed triangle between her legs. Olivia swallowed hard, unable to breathe as his fingers brushed gently across her aching skin.

  And then the silk fell away. Instantly its light warmth was replaced with his mouth. Rafe tasted and tongued her ribs, her breasts, until she caught back a moan of pleasure. She shuddered and raked her nails urgently over his shoulders.

  But he didn’t hurry. Not even when she pulled him down to kiss him, wet and blindly. His voice hardened with passion. “This is what I dreamed of at night, when the mountain passes were freezing and there was artillery fire in the distance. This is what I always wanted, and it kept me alive when nothing else could have. I’m giving you back those memories now, Livie. They’re as precious as my life itself. They kept me from dying in a dozen ways and in a dozen dark hellholes. So let go, honey. Let me see you lose yourself in my arms and against the heat of my mouth.” His voice turned raw. His eyes were chips of darkness as he gently brought his fingers inside her, whispering her name when she shuddered and gasped. Then her velvet skin closed around him, gripping tight while passion broke over her.

  He was an expert lover, Olivia realized dimly. He read her eyes and her emotions, judging where to push her to greater pleasure. He gave her full honesty and took his pleasure the same way, hot and unhurried as he found a stroking path inside her.

  It was nothing like what Olivia had expected. It was hot and raw and direct, blinding her senses. The way his eyes raked her skin left her embarrassed because she wasn’t used to this kind of intimacy.

  But it made no difference. She couldn’t deny him anything. Her eyelids fluttered. Her heart raced in a crazy dance as his fingers circled and withdrew, driving her up into a need that was never completely fulfilled.

  “Please,” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  “Of course, Livie. All you had to do was ask me.” His lips found hers. His hands worked their dark, dangerous magic against her.

  And Olivia shivered blindly, lost in the grip of unimaginable joy.

  Because this was Rafe. Because she had always loved him and always wanted him this way.

  She whispered his name, drawing in the sight of his face and the passion in his eyes. She could feel the force of his focus and the care he was taking.

  For a moment her old anxieties reemerged. They tormented her with angry doubts the way they had done for the past twenty years.

  Who was she to think a man like this could love her or want her? She was too awkward, too anxious. Nothing had changed. She didn’t deserve to be happy. She stiffened in his arms, and Rafe read the meaning of that movement instantly.

  “Take this thing I’m offering, Livie. Don’t think. Just take it. And then feel me. My hands. My mouth. Just let go. Do it now.”

  His rough voice melted over her, and suddenly the fear was gone. His mouth opened, nipping the sensitive line of her breast. His tongue followed, wet and circling and sure, driving her up into a blinding place she had never been before. When he muttered her name harshly, Olivia felt his fingers deepen their touch, opening against her.

  He wants me, Olivia thought. He wants us and everything we can find together.

  The knowledge made Olivia shudder. Then she fell, fell blindly, while passion and memories sang through her in a dark dance and a climax she could no longer resist.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SILENCE.

  Wind in the trees. The distant sound of waves crashing in the cove.

  The old house creaked, full of memories in dark corners. Rafe felt Olivia’s hands tremble as she leaned against him. He held her, half-propped against the wall, her body silver in the moonlight. Her hair fell over her cheek and he was certain he had never seen anything more beautiful. But where would they go now?

  As if she had sensed his thoughts, Olivia’s head tilted. Her eyes opened, half-dazed.

  She cleared her throat. “I guess this is that part.”

  “What part?”

  She took a slow breath. “Where you say this changes everything.” She turned to face him, her eyes huge. “Go on. Say it.”

  “No.” Rafe picked up on her mood. Her insecurity was returning, but he wouldn’t let that happen. “I won’t say that, Livie. Because good sex doesn’t change everything. It’s just the start. I want more.”

  Olivia’s eyes darkened. “As in...a relationship?”

  “Something like that.” Rafe smiled slowly, tracing the line of her cheek.

  Olivia was still wobbly, and she rested her arm around his shoulders for support. “But we agreed. It wasn’t...supposed to happen.”

  “It did happen. Are you sorry?”

  She swallowed hard. “No. Of course not. But where do we go from here? This is all—well, it’s new to me, Rafe. But I guess you noticed that.”

  He slanted her face upward in the moonlight. “How new, Livie?”

  She looked away. “Enough for this conversation to be embarrassing.” When she shivered, Rafe draped her knitted shawl around her shoulders.

  He slid his palm under her chin, his eyes intent. “How many relationships have you had?”

  “Does it really matter?” Her voice was muffled.

  “Oh, it matters a whole lot.”

  She gave a little shrug and reached for her nightgown. “A few. I forget.”

  “How many, Livie?” His voice was rough.

  “I don’t know. Three. Maybe a few more. Can we drop this subject now?”

  “Fine. Where’s your bedroom?”

  “At the top of the stairs.”

  Rafe caught her in his arms, cutting her questions off cold. She felt her tension and awkwardness grow, as if the slow passion and surrender had been no more than a dream.

  “You don’t have to worry about intruders. I’ll be right downstairs.”

  “You aren’t...sleeping up here with me?”

  “I think we both need a little space tonight. Besides, I need a clear head. If you’re beside me, that won’t be possible. And just for the record, I don’t believe there were three men.” Rafe pushed open her door with his foot. “I’m guessing not even two. Someday you’ll tell me why there weren’t more. You’re a beautiful woman. Men must have been lined up at your door.”

  “Hardly.”

  Rafe slid her to the floor, his hands gentle. “We’ll discuss that in the morning. It’s going to be a long day. You’d better get some rest.”

  “I need a plan. So what is our plan?” Olivia sank onto the bed, her hair a dark cloud around her head. “Do we act like nothing has changed? Do we let everything turn moody and emotional? I just need to know.”

  “I’m working on a plan. Now get some rest. We have to leave early to visit that place up the coast. Tomorrow we can make sense of all this.”

  She looked at him and blinked. “Does that mean you’re not going to...” Her fingers twisted at her waist. “That we aren’t going to...”

  “No, we aren’t. Not tonight. I meant what I said, Livie. We’re different now. I don’t know about you, but I’m playing for keeps. I want more than a few hours of reckless sex on the sofa.”

  And he was going to get it, Rafe thought fiercely. This was the distant dream that had kept him focused on life during the grim decade he had spent surrounded by the violence and chaos of war.

  Olivia looked confused—and a little wary.

  “Trust me, Livie. This is the best way. Get some sleep.”

  Rafe had a sharp instinct that tomorrow could bring discoveries she wasn’t going to like. Though he hadn’t been a police officer for long, he had picked up a few things already. One of those was that you didn’t keep a boat secret from friends and family unless you were doing something on that boat that you didn’t want anyone else to know about. If that was true, Rafe would be right next to Olivia when she found out. She wouldn’t face any painful discoveries alone.

  He turned out the light and walked to the door.

  “Rafe?”


  “Right here.”

  “There weren’t three.” Olivia’s voice was a whisper in the darkness. “Or two. There was only one man in my life. For all my life.”

  He stood in the doorway, feeling as if he had been kicked. He wanted to sink onto that big bed and teach her a wilder kind of passion. He wanted to wear the sweat of her body when he drove her over the edge.

  But he didn’t.

  Tonight they needed to figure out where they had come from and where they were going. They needed ground rules and a plan.

  “There’s only been one woman in my life, too. She’s been in my blood so long that she’s almost part of me now.”

  “Have you told her about this?” Olivia asked softly.

  “Nope. I’m afraid I’ll scare her off.”

  Olivia sighed. “I think you should tell her.” Her voice was sleepy. “You never know. She might be tougher than you think.”

  * * *

  THE OLD HOUSE creaked and settled.

  Moonlight worked through sheer lace curtains. But Rafe didn’t move, watching Olivia drift off into dreams.

  This time he was going to do everything right. Rafe did have a plan, and seeing that Olivia Sullivan didn’t get hurt was the most important part.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  PALE SUNLIGHT FELL across Olivia’s face. She blinked, pulling the pillow over her head. Still half-asleep, she yawned, her body oddly relaxed as she stretched slowly. She couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so well. And her dreams...

  They had been silent, hungry, full of yearning images.

  Olivia sat up sharply, remembering Rafe. He was what was different now.

  All the things she remembered, the images that still burned through her head, had been far more than dreams. Last night—she had reached for her passion. And he had been expert and implacable in helping her to find it.

  Her face flushed at warm memories of his callused hands sliding into urgent skin. The rough, hungry way he had said her name.