And she tasted exactly as sweet as he remembered.
Sweeter.
He deepened the kiss as she leaned forward and fit her body into his just as she used to, wriggling to get closer, press deeper, like she wanted to be absorbed. His arm tightened at her waist as his hand did the same at her jaw, holding her head tilted to his. He felt his body harden with need, eight years of need as eight years of yearning filled the kiss, surged through his frame, heating his blood to that familiar fever that he never felt for anyone else. A fever that was only for Lily.
He groaned into her mouth and she shivered as she accepted it, her hand sliding into his hair to hold his head to hers.
The kiss was desperate and wild with eight years of longing and he was completely lost in her.
But she was not lost in him.
The kiss had proved to him that nothing had changed in Lily, except one thing.
She was a mother.
With mother’s ears and a keen mother’s sense.
She tore her lips from his and turned half-stunned, half-passion-filled eyes to the door.
Slowly, Nate followed her gaze.
And in the doorway stood Natasha staring at them with wide-eyed wonder.
Then Natasha’s face split into an exquisite, gleeful smile and the little girl broke into a run.
Before Lily could disengage from his arms, Natasha slammed into them, throwing her arms around both their waists and burying her face in the spare space between them.
That moment for Nate, who had never had such a moment in his entire life, was so profound it nearly brought him to his knees.
But he had to remain standing to support Lily and Natasha who were both leaning into his body and his arms.
The hand Nate had at Lily’s face dropped to the back of his daughter’s neck.
Lily’s head lifted from her sober contemplation of Natasha, the girl still pressed at their sides. He noted, when he looked in Lily’s startling blue eyes, she’d had time to get herself under control.
She looked him right in the eyes and whispered fiercely, “This doesn’t change anything.”
He shook his head and smiled down at her, knowing she was wrong.
Softly, still shaking his head, Nate informed her of this important fact, “You’re wrong, darling. It changes everything.”
Chapter Sixteen
Laura
Laura sat sipping her tea and watching both Lily’s friend, Fazire, and her husband, Victor, silently squaring off.
And in doing so, she worried.
This strange Fazire, surprisingly, didn’t seem frightened of Victor. He hadn’t even seemed frightened of Nate and nearly everyone was frightened of Nate. Her son was that kind of man, dynamic, magnetic, tall, powerfully built. You took one look at him and you knew, no matter what, you should not mess with him.
Victor was older, softer but still held a certain menace that only Laura and, eight years ago, Lily, could see through.
Unfortunately, it appeared Fazire could see through it too.
Victor obviously didn’t like that. He’d put a great deal of effort into honing his legendary menace.
“They’re taking a long time. Tash-child, go see what they’re doing,” Fazire ordered, his arms still crossed on his chest, his head still tilted back ludicrously to stare at them down his sloped nose as if he was used to a greater height.
“Let them be. They’ve things to discuss,” Victor contradicted as Natasha began to do what she was asked. The child glanced at Victor and then settled back in the couch again and turned to Laura.
“There’s lots of photo albums, lots and lots. Fazire likes to take pictures,” Natasha explained her child’s idea of what was taking her parents so long.
Laura silently hoped there were hundreds of albums.
Thousands.
“I can’t wait to see the pictures, my darling,” Laura smiled at her granddaughter then, as she had been wanting to do since she saw her, she touched the soft skin of her cheek. “Do you know how lovely you are?” she asked, mainly because she couldn’t help it.
The child’s response startled and delighted her.
Natasha nodded happily. “Oh yes, Mummy calls me the most beautiful girl in the whole world.” She giggled to herself at this idea, as if it was funny, as if it was not the absolute truth.
Laura thought that she was the most beautiful child she’d ever seen. Who would have thought Nathaniel’s intensely masculine features in feminine, child-like form could be so striking.
“Tash,” Fazire called warningly and dropped his chin to stare down at her in a practised way that expected obedience.
“Oh, all right,” Natasha gave in, sounding mock-disgruntled and she scooted to the end of the couch, found her feet and skipped out the door.
The minute she was out of sight on the stairwell, Victor pounced.
“They need time together,” he snapped at Fazire.
Fazire turned to face Victor and shook his head slowly. “They do not.” Each word was said with absolute certainty.
“There are things Nathaniel needs to explain.” Victor was leaning forward at the waist, trying to hold his temper.
One look at her husband and Laura said soothingly, “Victor.”
Laura knew that this Fazire meant a great deal to Lily. Laura had heard Lily talking about him, she told Laura stories about him. He was far younger than Laura would have guessed, considering he was with Lily’s family before she was born and he looked to be in his forties.
It simply would not do to have Victor go head-to-head with him in Lily’s living room on this, their first, most delicate visit with her.
Fazire, still not seeing any of Victor’s notorious menace, retorted, “Then he should explain them to me. I was the one who stood outside your door when your daughter told Lily he was dead. I was the one who stood looking into the devastated eyes of a twenty-two year old pregnant girl who was all alone in the world except for me. I was the one who called the ambulance when the blood was pouring out of her and she nearly lost Natasha. I have been at her side all these years, while he lived two hours away and didn’t bother to travel the distance to knock on the front door.”
Victor’s face was turning an alarming shade of red and Laura stood to put a restraining hand on her husband’s arm. Every word the man said pounded into them both like sledgehammers.
Fazire wasn’t finished. “And I was the one who she came to after she’d gone to your home days ago, intent on finally telling you about Natasha, which she’d been talking about doing since Tash was born. She’d even felt guilty about it, not going to you, even though she’s had barely two pounds to rub together for eight years. I was the one who saw the state she was in when she returned and I was the first one to see the bruises you gave her.”