Page 67 of An Impossible Promise

Cora’s lungs heaved and then she was coughing, gasping and choking on slimy water. Strands of wet hair clung to her face, obscuring her vision. She cracked her eyes open and could just make out Liam’s broad shoulders as he loomed over her.

“Cora!” he shouted. “Holy mother of God,macushla. Are you okay? Speak to me!”

When she’d stopped coughing, she weakly rasped, “Liam.”

“Yes! Yes, I’m right here, love. You’re going to be okay now. I’m here.” He leaned closer until she could feel the warmth from his body through her wet clothes. They were almost nose to nose, and his breath was coming in sharp gasps. Liam was cradling her head, gripping it almost too tightly in his haste to assure himself she was okay. The look on his face was that of a broken, haunted man. A man who was terrified to lose her.

Cora reached up weakly, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “Liam, I was wrong.”

“Shh, don’t talk,” he said hoarsely, pressing her hands hard into his face, as if trying to assure himself she was there with him.

“I was wrong before,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper. “You’re nothing like him. You’re a good man.” Then she pulled his head down and pressed her freezing lips to his.

Liam’s entire body jerked in surprise. Cora didn’t care if she’d shocked him. All she cared about was driving out all the wrong things that had happened tonight with something that felt so effortlesslyright.

He pulled back on a hitched breath, staring down at her with glittering eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but she didn’t want to hear words. She didn’t care if this was unreasonable. Cora drew him closer and kissed him again. This time he melted into her and kissed her back, wrapping one powerful arm under her shoulders and pulling her closer. His lips were soft and warm and so familiar, like a favorite song she’d forgotten how to sing until exactly this moment. Something sparked in the back of her mind, a fragment of a memory or a dream. They’d kissed like this before, with the wind in their hair and the full moon shining above them. The image was so vivid, yet so fleeting. She wanted to grab fistfuls of the dream and yank it back to her. Hold it close. Instead, she grabbed fistfuls of Liam’s shirt, and reveled in the feel of his hard chest pressing into hers. The warmth of his hand gently cradling the back of her head. The featherlight brush of his mouth over her lips, her eyelids, her forehead.

Liam slowly pulled back, his face racked with sadness and regret. He gripped her hand tightly. “Cora, lie still. You need to rest. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I’m not sorry,” she whispered.

“For what?”

She closed her eyes. “The kiss. Thank you for saving me.”

He started to speak, but a loud shout and more splashing came from the water.

Cora turned her head and saw two dark shadows break the surface—Magnus and someone else. The lake house’s outdoor lighting system automatically switched on, and suddenly there was enough ambient light for her to recognize the other man clearly. Finn’s face was granite hard as he struggled with Magnus. He started to drag him toward the dock, but Magnus caught him in a chokehold and they both went under again.

“Finn,” she gasped, trying to rise.

“Don’t move,” Liam commanded, gripping her shoulders. “Finn’s got him.”

Suddenly, Finn burst through the surface and swam toward the dock, dragging the struggling Magnus behind him. Hooking a leg over the edge, Finn pulled himself up with one arm, still holding Magnus with the other. Liam helped haul Finn out of the water. Together, they dragged Magnus onto the dock.

Magnus coughed and sputtered, then jumped to his feet and started to run, but Finn leaped in front of him with a surprising burst of speed. Or, it might’ve been surprising to anyone else, but Cora had seen him do it before.

Magnus wound his arm back to punch Finn.

Finn dodged his swing, pivoted and punched Magnus so fast, she almost missed it.

Magnus crumpled to the dock.

“Game’s over.” Finn’s shoulders and chest heaved with exertion, and his wet clothes molded to his body. With his stark, cold expression, he looked more like The Jackrabbit than ever.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, man,” Liam said in shock and admiration. “Where’d you learn to hit like that?”

Finn pressed his lips into a grim line. “You don’t want to know.”

Sirens in the distance snapped Cora out of her daze. She tried to sit up, but Liam kept his large hand firmly on her shoulder.

Finn knelt beside her, his expression tight with worry and fear. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’d be a lot better if I weren’t lying here soaking wet, freezing my butt off.” The two men exchanged an amused look. An ambulance and three police cars broke through the trees and parked around Finn’s car.

“Stay with her while I go talk to them,” Liam said to Finn.

Cora bristled. She wasn’t going to just lie around when there were things to do. She struggled to rise again, but they each kept a hand on her shoulders. Annoyed they were treating her like an invalid, she scowled. “I am perfectly—”

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