hard that must be. She shouldn’t have left him that message. As if he’d want to see that at Aurelie’s wedding? What had she been thinking?
And she’d not heard from him. What if someone at the table read it? They wouldn’t understand it, right? Good thing she’d only left her initial, not her full name.
Mad with her idiocy and annoyingly one-track thoughts, she pulled her hair into a ponytail and gathered the materials needed for the two-day job that she had all of the next week to do. But she needed to keep busy tonight. She’d keep very, very busy.
Forcing concentration took huge effort. She took her watch off, put her phone in a drawer in the bathroom, put her favourite song on replay and wouldn’t let herself move from her desk. For hours.
Eventually she settled into it. For this project she needed to be extra precise and neat. It was just what she needed.
The thud on her apartment door who-knew-how-long later killed her heart. Three seconds later it started beating back at a frenetic pace that had her breathless. She stood, glancing out of the window as she did. It was still reasonably light, not that late into the evening at all. So it wouldn’t be Liam. The wedding party would only be starting.
Whoever it was pounded on her door again just as she got to it. She opened it, took one look at him and had to lean against the jamb because her legs went so weak. Tuxedos made any man look good; the effect on Liam was mind-blowing.
‘It’s early.’ She sounded as if she hadn’t spoken in years.
‘You thought I’d stay there when you left me this?’ He lifted his hand, flipping the place card in his fingers.
‘I didn’t mean for you to miss the party.’
He gazed at her, his expression dark. ‘I’m not.’
‘How was the wedding?’ she asked, suddenly nervous about his answer.
‘Beautiful.’
She bit the inside of her lip—anything could be read into the way he’d said that. And suddenly she needed to know exactly what he was feeling. ‘Do you still love her?’
Liam put his hand flat against her belly and gave her a little push so she stepped backwards. He followed and then carefully closed the door behind him. Only then did he turn and face her. ‘There’s a part of me that will always love Aurelie.’
Victoria pressed her lips together, trying to stay strong and not let that stupid, unwonted hurt at his words show.
‘She was as different from you as I could get,’ he said. ‘It should have been the perfect set-up. She was busy with her career, happy to let me get on with mine. We met up whenever our schedules let us. It was fun—and carefree. I thought it was all I needed and all she wanted. But she became unhappier, wanted more. Then one day she called to say she’d met Marcus. I wasn’t heartbroken—in fact I was happy. We were more friends than we were lovers. And I’m happy to see her so happy. I’m not hurt.’
Victoria released the breath she’d been holding—the blockage in her throat eased. ‘For what it’s worth, I think she’s crazy to marry someone else.’
Her words dropped between them—leaving a sudden silence in their wake. She bit her lip, holding back from admitting more.
‘I couldn’t watch you marry him.’ His voice was so soft it was almost a slur.
Victoria’s breathing quickened as she tried to hold back the emotional storm building inside her. This wasn’t supposed to go this way. They should be in a tumble already. ‘Because you knew I was making a mistake.’ It wasn’t because her marrying Oliver had hurt Liam. Not really.
‘You both were. You weren’t the right woman for Oliver.’ Like a statue, he remained a few feet from her. But his soft words carried as clear as the sound of a glass shattering on a stone floor. ‘Why didn’t it work out?’
‘You know why,’ she said simply. ‘That I even looked at you?’
‘So why did you say yes?’
‘How could I say no to him? How could I humiliate him in front of everyone? And I wanted to please him, to please all of them…’ She swallowed. ‘They cast Stella out. She became nothing to them. I didn’t think I could cope with being nothing. Having no one.’
He stepped forward, his eyes not leaving her face. ‘Would that have happened?’
It had happened—almost. While she wasn’t as shunned by her parents as Stella was, it wasn’t far off. The relationship was icy; they disapproved of her current choices. Blamed her.
‘He was supposed to have been the safe bet,’ she answered in a sad whisper. But he was human. As much as she.
‘I’m sorry,’ Liam said.
‘Don’t be.’ She smiled. ‘I learned lots. And I like this me better than the old me.’ She had some backbone now. She had her plans.
‘He was an idiot.’ Liam’s expression clouded. ‘I’d never have done that to you. Never would.’
‘No.’ She actually managed a laugh. ‘You’d never have married me in the first place. You’ll never marry anyone.’
His lashes dropped. ‘You’re right.’ He lifted his head and intently looked at her again. ‘But I’d never cheat on you.’
She believed him. He had honour. All those years ago he had wanted, he had asked, but ultimately he had resisted. There was no real reason to resist now. She touched her tongue to her lips, her mouth dry. She wanted this conversation to be over. She wanted what she’d always wanted from him.
Touch.
He stepped closer still and she felt his magnetism pulling—urging her to move nearer too. But he still didn’t reach for her.
‘Why now?’ he asked.
‘I don’t want to make the same mistake.’ The mistake had been not saying yes to him.
‘Are you sure?’
‘You wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.’
‘I thought you didn’t do one-night stands?’
‘I can’t fight it any more.’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘It’s what I want.’ She wanted to be released from the passion that imprisoned her—that made her think of nothing and no one else.
He looked at her—his gaze lifting to her hair and then down her body. That old smile tugged one corner of his mouth.
‘What have you been doing?’ He lifted a finger and pressed it against her forehead and then pulled it away and held it in front of her eyes. A sparkle of gold glinted on his finger.
She wiped her forehead herself and looked at her fingers, grimacing wryly when she saw more of the sparkles on her hand. ‘I’ve been working on a poem for an anniversary. Using gold leaf.’
‘What anniversary?’
‘Fiftieth—the golden.’
‘Wow.’ He nodded.
‘Yeah.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a lovely poem too.’
‘You’re not tired from Aurelie’s work?’
Of course she was.
His smile quirked. ‘You’re a gold-flecked angel.’
‘I’m not that much of an angel.’
He traced the spots of gold on her face with his finger and then leant forward, pressing his lips to each marking. ‘You’re gilded.’
Victoria shivered and took a step back. She hadn’t expected such tenderness and didn’t know if she could handle it. She wanted fast, furious passion—carefree, right? ‘You’re just feeling soppy because you’ve been to a wedding.’