If You Come Back To Me (If You Come Back To Me #1) Read Online Free Page A

in that accident? I’m mourning just like you are. Why are you trying to punish me further by taking everything away from my children? Have you no pity?” Brigit had tearfully asked Ryan.
    The memory of her brother’s encounter always made Mari recoil in pain. She hadn’t been around during the court proceedings, but distance hadn’t been able to diminish her knowledge of all the hurt between the Kavanaughs and the Itanis.
    That’s why, after Marc had left the hotel room, she’d packed her bags and caught the first flight she could back to San Francisco. Some things just weren’t meant to be.
    Even if they did feel so right.
    Their thighs, hips and bellies slid together provocatively as they danced. Every once in a while, the tips of her breasts would brush his ribs. Her nipples felt achy, overly sensitive. It excited her, their furtive, subtle, rhythmic caresses. A strange brew of emotions simmered inside her—nervousness, uncertainty, longing…
    Arousal.
    She stared over Marc’s shoulder, not really seeing anything. She was hyperfocused on the sensation of his hard, shifting body and too mesmerized by his masculine scent. She experienced a nearly overpowering desire to lay her head on his shoulder.
    “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to ask you why you blew me off in Chicago, would it?” His gruff, quiet voice caused a prickling sensation on her neck.
    She flushed and avoided his laserlike stare. “I would think the answer was obvious.”
    “Nothing is obvious when it comes to you and me, Mari. Nothing has ever been easy, either. It was my mother’s phone call that did it, wasn’t it? That’s what made you run? I knew I shouldn’t have answered it,” he said bitterly. “I only did because I’d been trying for weeks to coordinate communication between my mother and my sister, Deidre, in Germany, and they were supposed to have talked the night before. I had a feeling it might not have gone well for my mother. Their relationship had been strained for years….”
    She met his stare when he faded off. For a moment, she was trapped in his gaze.
    “We don’t have to dissect the reasons, Marc. Suffice it to say that Chicago was a mistake.”
    “I don’t agree,” he stated flatly.
    “We’ll just have to agree to disagree, then.” She noticed the tilt to his jaw—the Kavanaugh pride and stubbornness in full evidence. She sighed and groped for a way to change the volatile topic. “I’d forgotten what a good dancer you are,” she murmured.
    “I’d forgotten how hard it was to hold you in my armsand not be able to make love to you later. It’s a memory I’d rather put to rest for good, Mari.”
    Her breath froze on an inhale. His blue eyes blazed hot enough to melt her.
    So much for safe topics.
    She blinked as if awakening from a trance and took a step away from him. “Don’t, Marc.”
    “Don’t what? Make it harder than it already is? Too late,” he said softly. His mouth quirked at his double entendre.
    Mari was so busy staring at his sexy grin that she didn’t resist when he pulled her back into his arms. He didn’t miss a beat when the band started playing a slow ballad. The man really could move on the dance floor. As if he needed that extra edge. He was already more attractive to her than he had a right to be.
    He gathered her close, so close that Mari became highly conscious of the how thin the barrier of their clothing was, of how little separated them from touching skin to skin.
    “Just relax. Didn’t anyone ever tell you there’s a time for arguing and a time for…dancing?”
    The annoyed glance she threw him was more defense than genuine irritation. The truth was, her reaction to Marc worried her. It’d be convenient to say that being around him only evoked all those old feelings, but the reality was, her physical reaction to Marc as a woman was even stronger than it’d been as a girl.
    Exponentially so.
    Mari held herself rigid as they swayed to the music, but her