Dangerous Tides (Drake Sisters 4)

"No, Sam could walk in any time and I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off you." Tyson looked down at her, arms still holding her tightly against him, pressing his body into hers. "Come on, I've got a few special places I'd like you to see. We can go on the motorcycle. You're already dressed for it."

Libby slid her arms around his waist. It was silly, really, she was very independent, but Tyson made her feel protected and safe when he held her so close. And she couldn't suppress a small guilty thrill that went through her at the possessive way he looked at her. "I worked up my courage hours ago, Ty, but I've lost it again. I've seen too many head injuries from motorcycles."

"You said you'd go with me." His chin nuzzled the top of her head.

"That was before, when you kissed me until I couldn't think."

He pulled back to look at her, a slow smile lighting his face. "You couldn't think?"

"No. I was lucky to know my own name," Libby admitted, laughing softly.

As Libby hugged Tyson hard around his waist, she felt waves of animosity surrounding her. Glancing up, she encountered Sam scowling down at them from the landing. He reached out and touched the clock sitting on the small telephone table beside the stairs, but he was looking at her, and it wasn't a pleasant perusal. In that unguarded moment, she knew Sam felt the same way about Tyson and Libby dating as Sarah did--he was totally against it.

Sam's eyes met hers, his animosity plain. She couldn't really blame him if Tyson really hadn't been eating or sleeping or even working because of her, but it was uncomfortable to know someone didn't like her. She'd never known that to happen before. Instantly she tried to pull free from Ty, but he tightened his hold as he looked up at his cousin with a small grin.

"Hey, Sam, I was just about to leave with Libby on the bike. Are you going out tonight?"

"Ty, I'd like to talk to you for a minute," Sam said, his voice grim.

"Sure. This will only take a second, Libby," Tyson assured her as he went up to the top of the stairs.

Libby watched the two men go into the hallway. Neither closed the door. Their voices carried clearly back down to her.

"You aren't going to take her out on your motorcycle, are you?" Sam demanded. "Are you crazy? If something goes wrong she's liable to sue you."

"What's wrong, Sam?" Tyson asked.

"Good old Harry is a first-class bastard, Ty, but he asked a good question. What is she doing with you? You're worth a lot of money. You don't think she knows that?"

Libby's breath caught in her throat. No one had ever accused her of being a gold digger before. She was going to tell Sam to shove it. She took a step toward the stairs.

"So, what you're saying, Sam, is that a woman couldn't possibly want to be with me for any other reason than my money? What? Am I really that screwed up?"

"I'm not saying that, but come on, Ty. Libby Drake? She agrees to go riding on a motorcycle because you kiss her and she can't think? That's a load of crap and you're smart enough to know it. The perfect woman is not about to go out with anyone who isn't perfection unless she has an ulterior motive."

"You're so certain it can't be because she respects who I am? That just maybe she finds me interesting and unique? Isn't that possible?"

The hurt in Tyson's voice stopped Libby. His parents had rejected him and now Sam, his only family, had said the one thing guaranteed to break Ty's heart. Her temper flared and she practically flung herself up the stairs, uncaring that they would be embarrassed to be overheard. She deliberately wrapped her arm around Tyson's waist as she glared at Sam.

"I couldn't help overhearing, Sam. I assure you, I make more than a decent living for myself. I don't need Tyson's money."

"Right," Sam said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "And right now you're more than willing to sign a prenuptial agreement."

"For a motorcycle ride?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Sam snapped.

"Enough, Sam," Tyson said. He took Libby's arm. "We're heading out and I'm not certain what time I'll be home."

11

TYSON didn't say anything as she climbed on the motorcycle behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His gloved hand rubbed briefly over hers and then he looked straight ahead.

Libby pressed her face against Tyson's back as the motorcycle roared to life. Her heart thundered in her ears and she closed her eyes. It was silly to be afraid, especially when he had promised to go very slow, but she was already regretting her decision. That little niggling doubt was beginning to edge into her mind, growing stronger and more fearful as the road sped past the cycle's wheels.

But worse than her nervousness about riding the motorcycle was the way her mind kept coming back again and again to Sam's hurtful accusations and the realization that he didn't like her and didn't want her to have anything to do with Ty.

She tried to shrug it off as Joley would have done, with a casual toss of her head. He doesn't like me? Well, screw him! But Libby wasn't Joley and she couldn't just forget it. Sam's accusations had hurt. Being disliked hurt.

Oh, for heaven's sake. Why was it so necessary that everyone like her? Yes, she was mortified and humiliated that Sam thought she was after Ty's money, but while she was sitting here wallowing in her own pity party, she could feel Tyson's much deeper pain radiating from him. She felt his pain, the ache in his heart. There was no way to take back Sam's cutting remarks. She could only do her best to soothe Ty with warm waves of energy and burrow close in an effort to comfort him. She knew he doubted himself--and her.

With her body pressed up against Ty's, her arms around him and the bike vibrating between her thighs, she eventually began to relax and allow herself the luxury of enjoying being alone with him in the night. She took the opportunity to look around her, to see what he loved so much about riding on a motorcycle.

The sea air felt cool on her face and when she lifted her chin, tears formed in her eyes from the wind. They were out riding on Highway One, moving through the switchbacks above the sea. She looked down at the frothing water, amazed at how close the ocean seemed, dazzled by the way the spray looked like gems thrown into the moonlit sky. The water frothed and folded over, rushing at the rocks and then receding. The bike sped past the stretch of rocks and shore near the seal rookery.

Tyson pulled onto one of the many roads that wound up toward the higher bluffs. She was familiar with the coastline and knew the views were breathtaking from the few enormous properties in the area. He slowed as they approached an imposing set of six-foot iron gates. Pulling out a small remote from his pocket, he pointed it and the gates swung inward and he proceeded down a long drive. Impressive grounds flanked the driveway on either side, rolling lawns dotted with lush banks of flowers and shrubs, all meticulously setting off the huge two-story house at the end of the drive. The entire front of the house was glass. It rose up over the cliff, facing out to sea, designed to blend in with the landscape around it.

Tyson stopped a few yards from the circle leading to the triple garage. He pulled off his helmet and looked down at her. "What do you think, Libby? Isn't this beautiful?"

It wasn't just the ocean views, or the house built with the line of the coast in mind, and the series of wide covered decks, but also the gardens surrounding the house, the wind-swept trees and the wildness of the boul

ders and meadows. The pathways were well lit and led into small private alcoves, a flower garden bursting with blossoms leading to the sea itself. This wasn't just beauty. It was . . . serenity.

Libby slid off the motorcycle and removed her own helmet, waiting a moment to get her legs back under her as she turned in a circle to take in the house and grounds. "It is beautiful, Ty. I had no idea this was here."

"It has a separate guest house. I really liked that about it. The house is on two acres. The land is mostly rolling hills and meadows."

"Are you thinking of buying it?" She hadn't noticed a For Sale sign at the entrance.

"I already bought it. The day after Jonas was shot. I thought a lot about you, Libby, and how we're so different from other people and it occurred to me that you needed me. I've never been needed."

The breath stilled in her lungs. Libby slowly tilted her head to look up at him. "I need you?"

He took her hand. "Yes, you do. After I realized maybe your family might be gifted, it shook my confidence for a minute or two . . ."

"That long?" Libby's smile was faint. She felt faint. She wasn't ready for what he was going to say. The underlying pain in his heart was apparent to her, although she was certain he wasn't admitting it to himself. She wanted to run, but she wanted to hold him, to keep him safe.

Tyson tucked her hair behind her ear. "You don't know how to say no to people. They use you up, Libby. I'm very good at saying no. You fly all over the world helping out, but you really don't have a home or a life for yourself. I can offer you those things. I can offer this." His hand swept around to include the gardens and house. "I can offer you a sanctuary."

Libby couldn't look away from his face. His features were etched with lines she'd never noticed before. His eyes were dark with shadows. He looked curiously vulnerable and yet very determined. It took everything she had not to wrap her arms around him and hold him close to her.

"Tyson, you hardly know me," she said as gently as she could, all the while remembering that her sisters had said nearly the same thing to her. He was right. She might not want to admit it to herself, but she did have a difficult time setting boundaries.