Page 25 of Catch My Breath


  He grinned. “I have dual citizenship so I’m still as British as they come,” he affected an American accent, “but I also have a soft spot for you Yanks.”

  “And all this time I thought I was being wooed by an Englishman,” I marveled. “For the record, don’t ever fake that accent again. It sounds weird coming out of your mouth.”

  “As you wish, m’lady.”

  Footsteps approached from the path behind us. Turning, I saw the night guard walking our way.

  “Evening,” he said curtly. “The park closed at sunset. If you folks wouldn’t mind, I’m going to have to ask you head back to your car now.”

  “Okay. Sorry,” I blushed. We’d just been scolded like two teenagers caught making out in a parking lot. Holding Alastair’s hand, I led him back to the car.

  “Your place or mine?” he asked.

  “Seriously, no more fake accent. I like all of your Englishness.”

  “Is that even a word?” he chuckled as we climbed into the SUV.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Fair enough.” He squeezed my knee. “Where to?”

  “I need my car.”

  “Right. The wind-up toy.”

  He put the SUV in gear and headed for the highway. We rode in silence for the majority of the drive. I stole glances at him every so often when the streetlights cast just the right glow through the windows. He appeared deep in thought, stroking his chin. I wondered what could be weighing so heavily on his mind. Kicking myself mentally, I shook my head. He’d pretty much spilled his guts to me today, opening up about things he probably never told anyone.

  I think he’s allowed a pensive moment without my wondering what’s going on.

  Pulling into the small private lot, I saw my car sitting all by itself. He parked next to it.

  “Can we go down to the beach first?” he asked.

  “It’s closed.”

  “And your point is?”

  “We’ll probably get arrested.”

  “Who’s being dramatic now?” he laughed. “Come on, Meyers. Live a little.”

  He got out and walked toward the beach. I followed suit, scurrying up next to him and grabbing his hand. Smiling to myself, I knew nothing would happen if we went out here. I’d done it a zillion times before with Stephanie and some other friends for bonfires.

  The waves crashed and pounded on the shore, making their powerful presence known. Alastair led me down to where the sand was still dry, but the waves reached dangerously close.

  “See? It’s just us,” he said, lowering himself in the sand. I did the same, wishing we’d brought a blanket or something.

  Salty sea air swirled around us. Alastair leaned back, propped up on his elbows. I stayed sitting with my legs crossed. I was glad we came here instead of going back to the hotel or my apartment.

  “I have something for you.”

  He said it so softly I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hear it.

  “What?”

  He sat up, facing me so our knees touched.

  “I left it in your carry-on bag when you were getting dressed one morning. I thought you’d find it right away. When you didn’t, I planned to take it out of the bag and give it to you when we got back to Glasgow.” He frowned. “Obviously, that never happened.”

  My heart raced. The Tiffany box.

  “It fell out when I was unpacking. I didn’t…It was a bit of a shock.”

  “Did you open it?”

  His eyes shone in the moonlight. I touched his cheek, tracing my thumb along the corner of his mouth.

  “Yes.”

  Lowering his head, he smiled. His breathing had become a little labored, but he was still unshielded.

  “Did you like it?”

  “I had my eyes closed. I couldn’t look at it. It didn’t feel right with you not giving it to me yourself.”

  Cocking his head to the side, he raised a brow.

  “You opened it but didn’t look?”

  I shook my head. “I wanted to. I closed it a split second after opening the box. I put it on my nightstand and tried to forget about it.”

  “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

  My heart was now somewhere in my throat, vying for a spot in my mouth.

  “Yes,” I answered, low and breathy.

  Reaching into his pocket, he brandished the white suede box. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he fixed the most sultry, gorgeous stare on me. I moistened my lips, garnering a slight smile from him.

  “You're my reason for living now, Lia," he pushed the words out. “I need you. I want you. I…”

  His expression faltered. Large sections of his protective shield locked into place. I carefully placed my hands on either side of his face, never breaking eye contact.

  “One step at a time, Holden. When you’re ready.”

  Remaining stoic, he nodded and handed the box to me.

  “Open it,” he ordered gently. “And don’t close your eyes this time.”

  Swallowing hard, I did as I was told.

  “Oh my gosh,” I gasped.

  Nestled inside was a delicate white-gold necklace. Hanging from it was a platinum ‘A’ in beautiful script, encrusted with small diamonds. They glittered in the bright moonlight. I ran my fingers along it.

  “Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful, Alastair.” I looked at him. “Thank you.”

  The shy little smile that I’d grown to adore curved his mouth. Sitting like this, under the moon, he looked serene.

  “Let me put it on you,” he offered, reaching for the necklace. Lifting my hair, I leaned forward so he could clasp it. The ‘A’ landed at the hollow of my neck.

  We stared at one another. The softness of his skin on mine when he caressed along my shoulders gave me goose bumps.

  Seeming to fight against some sort of internal protest, he steeled his expression.

  “You take my breath away,” he said quietly. “There is no one else for me. There is only you. My angel. My Lia.”

  I crushed my body against his, hugging him as though both our lives depended on it. Our hearts beat in unison with the pounding waves, strengthening and fortifying our bond. Burying my face into his neck, I whispered, “I love you.”

  His body tensed.

  Oh please no.

  Lifting my head, I looked everywhere but directly at him.

  It’s too soon. I shouldn’t have said it.

  Alastair squared his jaw. He placed a hand on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him. "Tell me again."

  "Are you sure?"

  Closing his eyes, he wet his lips. The longer he stayed quiet the more nervous I became.

  "Yes," he finally answered. When he opened them they were clear and bright.

  "I love you, Alastair Holden,” I said with resolve. His eyes flickered in disbelief before a dazzling smile illuminated the beach. He looked up to the star-filled sky and ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it back and forth. I marveled at how such simple words broke through his rigid exterior. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and cupped my jaw. His eyes were glittering. I shuddered, gazing into them.

  "You are the best thing that's happened to me. I've never felt more like myself than I do when I'm with you.”

  Knowing this was as close as I’d get to him saying those three words back to me, I smiled. I could wait an eternity until he said them because I knew he felt it. For me, for us, for this to work the way I hoped it would, that was all I needed.

  “You have that look again,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

  “So do you,” I replied. “What should we do about it?”

  Locking a molten green stare on me, his lips curved into a sexy grin. When he kissed me, all the anguish from our separation disappeared forever. I was alive again. A hum vibrated through me, rousing every part of my body, bringing them to a heightened sense of awareness. Tangling my fingers in his hair, I kissed him back with all my heart. He held me fast against him. Without questi
on, all the times he’d kissed me before paled in comparison.

  Don’t miss the next books in the series,

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  Available July 2014

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  First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2014

  Copyright © Lynn Montagano 2014

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  Lynn Montagano, Catch My Breath

 


 

 
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