No. It hadn’t. The horrible events in Boston had laid her pathetic emotional stratagems bare. She’d been scrambling for love all these years. And she only knew that because she’d finally gotten some of it. Just enough to know what it felt like, anyway. And now it was gone.

She’d been better off before. Not knowing.

No, she hadn’t earned any love from all her heroic efforts. Love couldn’t be earned, or God knew she would have more of it. She finally understood Lucia’s impulse to matchmake. Her mother had wanted so badly to find Nancy someone solid. A man she could lean on. The joke was on them, though. Liam was so solid, he was like an outcropping of volcanic rock. Immovable. A cosmic joke, but she wasn’t laughing.

She flopped down onto her side, curling around the empty space inside her. Liam had saved her from the guy with the reptile eyes. He’d come to her rescue as heroically as ever, but after snatching her from the jaws of death, he’d decided that his duty as a righteous dude was fulfilled. He’d shaken the dust off his boots and walked into the sunset.

Not a word from the man. Not a call. Not a peep.

She was having nightmares, crying fits every night. She’d stayed with her sisters for the most part, but she’d slipped away from everyone tonight. She needed to be alone. Scary though that was.

The doctors said that it would take a while for the anxiety to ease. The pills they’d prescribed rattled in her purse. She hadn’t taken them. All she had were her feelings. She didn’t want to cut herself loose from those, too. And she wanted to be sharp, if Reptile Eyes came calling.

She thought constantly about calling Liam, but something always held her back. She’d told him that she loved him, so technically, the ball was in his court. But this was no game. She was too raw, too sad for games. She just wanted to go to him, hold out her heart and say, “Take this. It’s yours anyway, you great big idiot. So take it already.”

The intercom buzzed. She leaped up, her heart in her throat.

Her sisters both had keys. And Reptile Eyes would not buzz. He would transform into fetid slime, ooze under the crack in the door, and reconstitute himself on the other side like the über-evil Terminator III.

She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Just as well she’d left the light off. She curled into a tight ball, and gave the intercom the finger.

Buzzzzzz, it rang, loud and long and demanding. Persistent bastard. She waited. Two minutes. Three. Buzzzzzz, again. Curiosity laced with fear dragged her to the window. She leaned out to peek.

Liam stood on the top of her stoop. Her heart leaped, thudded heavily against her ribs. Her legs started to wobble. Buzzzzz, he hit the intercom again. He looked up into her eyes, and held out his hands, palm up, in silent entreaty. She shuffled to the intercom like a zombie and buzzed him in.

She unlocked all the locks, of which there were many. She’d added three more to her collection since the Reptile Eyes episode.

She opened the door. He was thinner. Pale, drawn, and deadly serious. In the flickering light from the stairwell, she saw the fading bruises beneath both eyes. A broken nose, Eoin had said, and cracked ribs. Hanging out with her was hard on a guy’s health.

She suppressed the concern, the guilt. The desire to fuss.

Her heart was careening at such a fast clip, she felt woozy and faint. She couldn’t speak, so she just stepped back and gestured him in.

He shoved the door shut after him, blocking out the light, and she was grateful she’d left it off—until she started remembering the last time they’d been alone, in this room, in the dark. Making love.

He cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Are you all right?” he asked.

She blocked all the automatic babble-mode replies at their source. The “Oh, I’m fine and how are you” bullshit. She had nothing to lose, no reason to lie. “No,” she said flatly. “I feel like shit.”

He took a step closer. “I’m sorry,” he said.

She choked on her laughter. “Oh, are you? I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. I can’t concentrate. I’m scared of my own shadow. I am wrecked, Liam. I am roadkill. So don’t ask stupid questions. And don’t tell me that you’re sorry. Because I don’t want to hear it.”

“You’re going to have to hear it. Because I’m not done saying it.”

“Oh, yeah?” She backed up, and her thighs bumped against the couch. She was so wobbly, she sat down with an undignified thump. “Don’t tell me what I have to do, because I am so very done with all your arrogant pronouncements and your bullshit ultimatums!”

“I love you,” he said.

That cut her tirade off and left her gasping for air. She just hung there, head dangling, hands clamped over her mouth.

Liam sank down onto his knees. He pried one of her hands off her mouth, pulled it to himself, and kissed it, with reverent slowness, like a sacred ceremony. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

She didn’t know where to start. This thing between them was a maze, a confusion of entrances and exits, full of dead ends, land mines. Her heart shook at the idea that there might be a way through it.

If she could find that narrow, winding way. If they could find it, together.

“Why didn’t you call?” she blurted. The question she’d sworn she would not ask had popped up and asked itself, without her permission.

He hesitated, his face turned away. “I couldn’t. First, I was numb. Then, I was scared. Then, I was embarrassed. I was just…stuck. In a big machine. I had to shake loose of it. It took some time. But I’ll regret how long it took for the rest of my life.”

That startled a watery smile out of her. “Don’t get melodramatic. The rest of your life is a long time.” She paused. “I hope.”

“Do you?” He slid his arms around her hips and laid his head in her lap. “No matter how long it is, it’ll be too long without you.”

Whoa. Following up his advantage, the crafty, presumptuous bastard. He’d caught her in a weak moment, and now he was just waiting for her to cave. And oh, how she wanted to cave. So badly.

Nancy put her hands on his shoulders, with a vague notion of pushing him away, but as soon as they made contact, her fingers dug in. His muscles seemed leaner, harder than before. He trembled.

She couldn’t push him away. She had no strength for it. She found herself bowing down like a wilting flower. Draped over him, her hands splayed over his ribs, feeling the rise and fall of his breath.

“How’s your nose?” she asked.

“Healing,” he replied. “No big deal.”

“It was for me,” she said. “It was huge, for me. You saved my life. Again. Thanks, by the way.”

He lifted his head, and frowned. “Speaking of which. You should not be alone here. It’s not safe.”

She sighed. “Don’t start. If it comforts you, my sisters have been babysitting me. I just needed to be alone.”

He looked dubious, but let it go. After a moment, he cautiously tried again. “So. Ah, how did it all go?”

“How did what go?”

“The gig. Peter and Enid. Are they megasuperstars now?”

“Not one bit of sarcasm out of you, or it’s out the door, Knightly.”

He lifted his hands in quick surrender. “Sorry.”

She harrumphed, unmollified. “It went well,” she said coolly. “It was a big boost for both their careers. And mine, too, incidentally.”

“Ah. Well, good. I’m happy for them. And you.”

She was appalled to realize that she was trying not to smile at his supercareful, kid-gloves tone. “That’s very big of you, Liam.”

“I hope they appreciate you now.” The edge was back in his voice.

“I think they do. They even paid back the money they owed me.”

“No shit?” He looked impressed. “How’d you swing that?”

“I put my foot down. I admit, that approach does have its uses.”

He looked away. She couldn’t see his mouth, but she could feel that he was trying not to smile. “Funny how you should say that,” he said. “Myself, I’ve been working on the concept of compromise.”