"I'm sorry I left you like that," I breathe, my eyes adamant but soft his shade of blue.

Sighing, he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.

"I missed you," he says, and I'm baffled that it's the only remark he can give.

I expected an ireful amount of scolding or a bit of a why question. But I'm glad, even if it feels like this is more than I deserve if I'm being purely honest with myself. Being alone has been my safety net, and if I can do well otherwise after that one gruesome experience.

I close my eyes and drift, the ache still fresh and warning.

"What is it, Kira?" Liam whispers, confusion thick in his voice as he studies me carefully the moment I blink my eyes open.

I want to tell him something I haven't told anyone but my therapist.

I want him to know my darkest secret that still tortures me from time to time.

"Are you having doubts about us?" Liam asks, a deep wrinkle between his perfect eyebrows. Hauling me toward him, he seizes my chin and adds, "Why? Is there any problem?"

"No, there's no problem, Liam. I'm just trying to. . . " My voice trails off when he sensually grazes his lips against my neck, his breath warm and tingling for some misplaced reason.

It sends a quiver in my stomach and a quick pulse between my legs.

"Do you want me to go?" he asks. My body electrifies at the tone of his voice, and I shut my eyes as he transforms my mood. "Tell me, Kira Jones. Do you really want me gone?"

Now I'm trapped in his brace, both arms of his basking me toward him.

"No," I hardly breathe, my eyes wide open alongside my conscience. "I don't want you to go and I'm sorry about all the times I turned you down back in Miami and I'm glad you're here," I tell him truthfully, for I've had enough of being a coward.

He flushes. "I forgave you even before you asked for it, Kira. But I think we still need to straighten up things between us, Kira. We need to have a serious talk about your mysterious ways to love and then push me away, even at this particular moment when you're deliberately trying to conceal something from me."

Busted! Sneers my fevered subconscious.

"Must it be now, Liam?" I inquire because I must tell him the whole truth about myself.

As disgusting as it may be.

"I believe so," he replies curtly, sheer concerns bathed in his luminous eyes that scan me so intently. "I can't afford you running away once again, so I need you to—"

"Not now, Liam!" I snap. "We'll have time for that, but not now. What I need, what my body sternly needs, is not to talk." I slowly set my arms around his neck, missing not a single blink of his crinkled eyes.

I lower his head and set my lips on his.

A soft grunt escapes him. His heart beats as violently as mine when he grabs me tightly, although loosely at first, squeezing me in an impatiently perverted fashion, kissing me back ravenously on my neck, my chest, and up to my lips where he stops once we're both breathless.

"I hope you won't regret asking me to stay," he warns, staring ardently at me with darkened eyes.

My cheeks pinken in color, heat burning me from the inside out.

"Why? Will I have a reason to?" I raise a playful eyebrow, trying hard to control the impact of his so tight grip around my waist, possessive even, and his lips that have deepened in color.

If his lips are capable of driving me out of my wits, how will it feel when his other objects wander in and out of me? Just the thought makes my insides quiver.

"What do you think?" His hand slips underneath my robe, heading to places I've imagined him touching so many times.

I suck in a breath and reply, "I don't know."

"Well, Ms. Jones . . . " He smiles wickedly, drawing me closer to him using one arm. "I can't promise to be a gentleman now that we're alone. I'm just warning you."

Whisper of a devil. How lovely!

"Oh really?" I laugh out loud, blushing all over again at this delicious warning. And I want to be as defiant as I can be just for that matter. "Well, I think I accept the danger, Mr. Darcy. It's more exciting and thrilling that a perfect harmony that barely exists."

"We shall find out soon enough," he breathes and starts kissing me again, more voluptuously this time until my whole body flames.

Relentlessly, he lifts me and my legs curl around his waist. I firm my hand around him, my breasts crushed tightly by the muscles of his hard chest, and onto the couch, he lays me down without taking his lips off mine.

He only stops when I'm all settled beneath him. My head rests on the pillow wedged against the armrest. My chest shores on and off like capricious ocean waves—stirred and restless—and Liam places his one knee on the cushion to bulk himself as he leans over me.

His face closer to mine, breath to breath, he grins down at me.

Damn, the look of devouring he gives me as if I'm the last woman standing. It makes me feel needed and wanted. Responsively, I grab the sides of his jacket, urging him to shrug it off in a similar design.

Yes, Mr. Darcy, you're finally mine! I can feel the devil in me back to her throne.

"I love you," I confess heavily, eyes on his as he hoists himself up to flap his jacket away.

"I love you, too, Kira," he replies while pitching it on the floor.

His lips find mine in nanoseconds, his body weighing me partially as I lay back on the couch. We kiss deeply with love and passion, caressing each other unhurriedly.

I've pictured this moment for so long. I yearned for the man who can make me the desire and need to make love, and eventually, he's here, capable and willing to turn me wildly into love. Those firm fingers run over my curves, caressing my thighs with so little patience.

It's fine. This is Liam Darcy and not him. I hold my breath and let him proceed.

The more I fight it, the harder it gets into my head. My breath hitches more and more, and certainly not from pleasure. No, it's from pain. From torture. I don't feel as I should be feeling and so my eyes shut tightly to repel.

Liam fondles my breasts now, kissing my skin while undressing my robe subtly. My head gets jagged and overwhelmed. It's kind of déjà vu: the crawling sensation of dirty hands all over my body, the forced kisses, and . . . most terrifying of them all . . . the brutal thrust between my legs.

I struggle to move beneath Liam, and my eyes well up. Please, stop. I sob mutely, my whole body stiff as if I'm having an epilepsy attack. I feel Liam pulling back slowly, postponing all the kissing and touching too.

"Kira," he calls gently.

"I'm sorry," I gasp as I catch some air, my lungs at the shortage of oxygen.

"What's wrong?" he asks worriedly, a crinkle of concern on his face. "Kira—"

"Don't!" I shove him slightly when he tries to hold me. I hug my robe as he stands up stoutly, giving me a very strange, quizzical look. "I'm sorry." I drop my feet off and sit up, hugging my body defensively.

"Did I do something wrong, Kira?" Liam asks but I'm no longer in sync with him.

I'm in far, too dark places.

"No. You haven't done anything." I feel cold.

"So then?"

"It's just . . . I'm sorry." Unable to say a thing, I get up and flee.

"Kira—" Liam starts but he doesn't finish.

My heart is beating unpleasantly against my chest. Slamming the bathroom door unceremoniously, I slide behind it until I'm down on the floor. I let my tears flow, seated on the doormat while hugging my knees tightly.

Why is this happening now? How did Jeremy come into such an important moment in my life? I try to catch some air—to finally breathe. It's sickening, disgusting, so unbidden that I had to think of him. What will Liam think of me now?

Oh, God!

I try to do away with all these dreadful feelings. The way he came over me fills my mind with darkness. Those kisses were dirty and forced—I feel dirty, too. The way he touched me felt like snakes crawling on my skin, and when he pushed his . . . No! I close my eyes tightly.

"No, Kira," I utter, moping away the unshed tears. "He'll probably understand."

He's Liam, not Jeremy.

Slowly I get up and stride toward the sink. My morbid look is what regards me in the mirror, my hair messy, and my skin ghostly pale.

My fingers reach for the water faucet and turn it on. I splash some on my face and its coolness manages to wake me, reminding me of my present and not the past.

Done, my eyes still on the pale woman, I grab the mini towel from the hanger and wipe the water off my face. I got to tell Liam everything, even though I'm not sure how he'll react to it.

I may lose him again.

"It'll be fine, Kira," I breathe, standing tall as I finish my mental pep speech.

When I get back to the living room Liam is no longer on the couch. Our glances collide, and I can't discern the look on his face. Was he about to follow me? I can't tell, but that's mostly possible. Sighing, I saunter to where he is, my gaze intently on his.

His eyes are more guarded than usual, with no hint of what he feels or thinks portrayed in blue in them. He's an ocean of void. He just stares at me, waiting for my voice to come out, and my breath rasps. It's okay, I can tell him everything. I take a soft sigh.

"Liam—" I try to open my mouth several times but no word comes out of it.

"It's about that bastard, isn't it?" His words emit through gritted teeth.

Oh, God! Does he know?

"Um . . . " I sigh, maybe from feeling startled. Liam strides nonchalantly to where I've halted so we face each other closer.

"That long-haired boy in Miami, one of Samantha's friends. Is it him?" Liam deadpans, his eyes dark and angered. "Tell, Kira! What did he—" He pauses and sucks in a breath as if whatever he thinks or wants to know is nothing he finds delight in.

"Did you . . . by any chance . . ." Did he hear my conversation with Jeremy that day?

"Yes, Kira. I overheard part of your conversation and I'm not sorry for doing so, but rather for not beating him up if I knew that something horrible happened between you two," Liam says with gritted teeth, remorsefully. "What did that bastard do to you?"

My feet are suddenly wobbly and I hate that I have to tell Liam about this. Lifting my eyes to meet his, I can only see the despair and anger. My lips tremble but up to now, I don't know how exactly to explain that I was violated by my best friend's boyfriend.

And suddenly, as though he understands me more than I do myself, Liam wraps me into a tight embrace and whispers, "It's okay, Kira. It's okay." He rubs my back soothingly and I sob quietly in response, burying my face in his chest.

"I feel so ashamed, Liam," I confess my fear.

I always wanted this to stay a secret.

Liam sighs heavily and kisses my hair. "I'm not sure why you'd feel that way, Kira, but I wish you didn't. I want you to trust me, baby. I want to hear everything, Kira. Whatever it is, I want to hear it."

I draw back and lift my lids at him. "You won't leave me, will you? Promise me you won't be disgusted by me even if—"

"Look at me!" Liam snaps. I just cry, my body trembling in fear. "Look at me, Kira!" he repeats and I quickly comply. "Did you kill an innocent person?" he asks sternly.

I shake my head and say, "No."

"Did you torture little kids?"

"Never!" I laugh in tears.

"Then I don't care what else you did. Nothing will make me feel disgusted by you so tell me what happened," he commands and I can never say no when he uses that tone of voice.