had been so good at saying yes. To her parents, to Oliver. To the people she’d been desperate to please more than anything—more than herself. And then what Aurelie had said registered.
‘I was recommended?’ Who’d have done that? She’d only been in Paris seven months—most of her income was derived from the secretarial work she got from an agency. She’d only recently relaunched her online calligraphy and personal stationery design business. Perhaps it was a contact from when her company had been flying high in London? Either way she was grateful—despite the last minute panic that Aurelie had just dumped on her.
But Aurelie didn’t answer, she’d swiftly crossed to the window. Now Victoria too heard the crunch of the gravel outside. A car.
‘Oh, no,’ Aurelie gasped. ‘He’s here. He can’t see any of this. If he comes in here, hide it. Everything.’ With superior athletic grace, even with that burgeoning belly, Aurelie ran from the room.
Victoria blinked at the suddenly empty atmosphere. Presumably he was the groom. Curious to see what kind of guy had landed the incomparable Aurelie, she walked over to the window and peered down the two levels to the grand entrance.
The discreet-but-gleaming black car parked right in front was empty. As she watched, one of the conservatively clad assistants strode across the courtyard towards it. No doubt he was going to park it somewhere where it wouldn’t ruin the picture-postcard perfection. While it might be a ‘miniature’ chateau, it was still one of the grandest buildings Victoria had ever been in. Surrounded by formal gardens with long avenues and hidden nooks and a selection of trick fountains, it was gorgeous.
She went back to the desk, picked up the completed cards and dropped them back in their protective box. She didn’t want any damaged; she had too much to redo already. She took out several blank cards from the other box she’d brought in case, frowning as she arranged them. The desk was beautiful, but it wasn’t angled like her one at home. It’d be better if she could do these there, but she wasn’t about to say ‘no’ to Aurelie.
She prepared her pen, drawing up ink, and worked on a practice card—warming up her fingers and getting the ink to flow smoothly.
‘Aurelie, you in here?’
Victoria froze, her pen digging into the card. Shock curdled her blood. Ink spilled but she hardly noticed. Because she knew that voice. That warm, laid-back, confident call.
She turned her head as he walked into the room. Her heart paused for a painfully long time between beats. She held her breath even longer.
Liam?
Utterly gorgeous, absolutely unattainable Liam?
Her eyes were so wide they wanted to water. But that wasn’t happening. Not in the presence of this particular guy. Never ever.
He paused, barely noticeably, before walking towards her. But, as always, Victoria noticed every tiny thing about him, so she saw that slight hesitation. She also saw his height—his tall, lean, muscled physique. He’d always been an athlete and more competitive than most. Dangerously competitive. Liam Wilson wanted to win, no matter the cost.
And he’d won the best, hadn’t he?
Aurelie.
His sunflower-flecked brown eyes locked on her. Staring right back, Victoria saw the trademark easy-going stubble covering that sharp-edged jaw. She saw the dark brown hair, cropped closer than it had been the last time she saw him. Only vaguely did she take in the jeans and white tee because she was fully mesmerised by his expression—that intense, purposeful focus.
OM freaking G.
Liam Wilson. She couldn’t believe it. Completely thrown, she looked down for a sec to collect her scrambled thoughts. How could he have grown even more attractive? How could she take one look and want all over again?
Pulling the plug on the visual didn’t work. Because now she remembered so much of a time that had been so short. Now she wanted to hide. No one had ever exposed her the way Liam once had—with just one look.
‘Victoria.’
She fixedly stared at the ink-splodged mess she’d made on the card, aware he’d stopped a few feet from her chair.
He cleared his throat. ‘Long time, no see.’
She heard the smile. He’d always spoken with that easy-as smile. That innate confidence had been part of what had drawn her to him. The kind of confidence she’d never had. She’d been jealous of his ‘I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-you-all-think’ attitude too, because she’d never had that.
Focused, hungry, fascinating. Liam had an edge Victoria hadn’t encountered before or since. Tall, strong, determined to do what he wanted, he’d sliced through any opposition.
Until Oliver. And her.
Unable to resist, she chanced a glance back at him. That element of danger? It was still there—now lethal. Because, despite that smile, his eyes weren’t just focused and relentless, they were hard.
There was no point clearing her throat. It wasn’t going to work. Nothing in her body—especially not her brain— was working this second. Or the next.
‘How’ve you been?’ he asked.
Oh, he had to be kidding. Five years since she’d last seen him, five years since he’d interrupted her own wedding proposal and here he was five days from his wedding and he was greeting her like some old schoolmate?
Then again, how else to handle it?
She looked at the blank cards on the desk, glad she’d packed the others away. Aurelie hadn’t wanted him to see them.
Aurelie. Liam.
Aurelie Broussard was marrying Liam Wilson.
Liam was the father of Aurelie’s baby.
Liam was getting married.
Why was it so hard to compute?
She’d once had the chance to say yes to Liam. Not to marriage but to something. She hadn’t. She’d said yes to someone else and life had moved on for all of them. And she was okay with that, wasn’t she?
Yes.
She straightened, ignoring the churning riot of recollections and emotions inside. She was happy. And she’d act like it.
‘Fine, thanks.’ Score. Her voice sounded almost normal. ‘How are you?’
‘Stunned to see you.’
Hardly stunned. He was still standing, tall and fit in those blue jeans and soft leather boatshoes and an eye-wateringly bright white tee with seams that had to cling hard to contain his broad shoulders. It ought to be impossible, but the guy was more gorgeous than he’d been back then. But what really stunned her was the glint in his eyes. He blatantly stared—at her hair, over her face, seeming to take in each feature—lingering on her mouth and then dropping below, taking in her figure. Was he sizing her up as he had that very first time they’d met? Back then it had been excusable—he’d not known who she was. But now?
Victoria tensed beneath his inspection, willing her body not to let the remnants of that old attraction show. Because that was all it was, like muscle memory—an imprint of an old infatuation. Not real. Certainly not worse. It couldn’t be.
‘It’s been a long time,’ he said. ‘And, as impossible as I’d have thought it, you’re even more beautiful now.’
Her breath quickened as her body absorbed his words— words that mirrored her thoughts of him. Her system responded so inappropriately. Heat shot everywhere—most of all deep and low in her belly.
Her brain clicked more slowly, taking too long to realise that it was meaningless, just his usual flirt talk. That was all it had ever been. Talk. But he had no right to tease her. Not that she could put him in his place the way she wanted to. Not when it was his fiancée she was working for. No, she was going to remain