stairs to his bed, drunk. Liam hadn’t. He hadn’t been drunk. He hadn’t left.
Victoria had determinedly kept on going with the darn decorations, trying to pretend he wasn’t there. But Liam hadn’t let her. He’d chatted—easily maintaining a one-sided conversation for the first fifteen minutes, until she’d got over herself and actually giggled. Then it had been a fun tease.
Until she’d tried to move out of the chair. She’d not realised how stiff she’d got sitting still so long, folding ribbons of the thin paper over and over.
That was when Liam had come to help. That was when he’d rubbed her shoulders to ease the ache. That was when he’d stood too close and touched too much and that ache had become a burn.
That was when he’d turned her in his arms and looked at her—
Don’t.
Victoria closed her eyes and banished the memories. ‘I’ve learned to take care of myself better now,’ she said briskly. ‘I even use a timer.’
‘So efficient.’ The old amusement was audible.
She didn’t want to hear that tease. It had always melted her, always made her smile. She should hang up—but she couldn’t yet. ‘How is your holiday going?’
‘It’s pretty frustrating.’
‘Oh?’ Her heart slammed against her ribcage.
‘There’s no water.’
‘Are you drowning on dry land?’
‘Pretty much.’
She laughed. ‘You get itchy when you’re away from the water too long.’
‘Yep.’
‘Why is that?’
He was silent for a moment and she knew he was actually seriously considering the question. ‘It’s my home.’
‘You’re a merman? Mr Atlantis?’ she joked lamely.
‘It’s where I’m free. It’s where I can be in control of my own destiny.’
‘You can’t be in control of your destiny on land like normal people?’
‘On land there are other people. In my boat, I’m alone.’
Solo sailor. He’d gone for months at a time without seeing anyone as he’d circumnavigated the globe solo. In his team events, he was the captain. Reliant on his crew, yes, but ultimately the one in charge.
‘You don’t want to have to factor anyone else into your life?’
‘I am that selfish, Victoria.’ There was none of the tease now, none of the amusement. It was a warning—as loud and clear as a foghorn.
But she didn’t know whether to truly believe him. The Liam she’d met five years ago had been fiercely competitive, fiercely determined. But he’d also been helpful. Yes, he’d been on the fringes, watching how Oliver’s family— and her family—played out. But he’d helped, he’d wanted to be involved. Was it merely to have something to do?
‘Why don’t you ask Aurelie if there’s something you can do to help her get organised?’
‘Not necessary. There’s a wedding planner here. She’s scary.’
‘Scary?’ Victoria chuckled. As if Liam would ever be intimidated.
‘Seriously scary. Check this out.’
A second later her phone pinged. She swiped the screen and smiled. He’d sent her a picture of the chateau. Uniform-clad minions were busy constructing a big marquee. There were white chairs everywhere. There was one ultra-efficient-looking woman in the middle of it all with clipboard in hand, wireless phone piece in her ear and her hair ruthlessly scraped back. She was very attractive in a headmistress sort of way.
‘She’s not scary.’ Victoria cleared her throat. ‘She’s gorgeous. And she looks like she’s fabulous at her job.’
‘She’s a robot,’ Liam answered shortly. ‘And she has everything under control. There’s nothing that needs doing.’
‘It looks like it’s going to be amazing,’ Victoria said.
‘It will be.’ He suddenly sighed. ‘So you’d better get back to your writing.’
Victoria held onto the phone for a couple of minutes after he’d rung off. Was his abrupt switch from joke to sigh because of that in-his-face wedding scene? Because of Aurelie?
Her skipping heart ached.
* * *
A few hours later Liam couldn’t help placing another call just to hear her voice. Over the phone she sounded blood-pumpingly breathy yet brisk at the same time. Just hearing her got him hard and he couldn’t resist it any longer.
‘I think you should take twenty minutes and come and see me,’ he said the second she answered. And what he really wanted was to see her come.
He’d been deliberately bold the other day. He’d wanted to bait her. Get a reaction from the woman who provoked him to insanity with just a glance. Get her to admit the vibe between them for once.
But he’d done more than provoke. He’d unleashed them both. He’d had to stop when he’d realised she wasn’t going to say no. It had nearly killed him to pull back, but it hadn’t been the right time. He didn’t want either of them to have regrets. But the right time was going to have to be very soon.
‘Twenty minutes?’ Victoria answered in an unim-pressed tone. ‘That’s all you want?’
He grinned. It’d be more like two given the state he was in. And frankly? He’d settle for anything now.
‘For the first round,’ he amended for form’s sake. ‘Then we could settle in for the rest of the night.’
‘Have you been drinking?’
‘You know I don’t.’ The way his father had drunk? Obliterating reality from his mind? He hadn’t been an abusive father in a physical sense, he’d simply been negligent. Never there. Either at the wharf or at the pub, he couldn’t have been less interested in his only child. Liam shook off the memory and focused on his much more appealing immediate future. ‘Why try to ignore the fact that the genie is out of the bottle?’
She’d said yes the other night. Not in words, but in actions—she was all the way to yes.
‘Throw another cliché my way,’ she answered snappily. ‘That one doesn’t work for me.’
He laughed. ‘When did you get so tough?’
‘I told you, I finally grew up.’
Had she? She’d been so sweet back then, soft and pretty and pleasing. She’d been all things to all people. She’d had to be—her parents had demanded perfection. Liam looked out over the gardens, his eyes narrowing as he wondered about how that whole thing had played out for Victoria. ‘How are your parents? Do you see them?’
There was a moment before she answered. ‘I see them occasionally.’
Her answer was too diplomatic, too reserved. ‘Are they unhappy about you and Oliver?’ He pressed the phone closer to his ear, trying to catch the nuances.
‘Very.’
Did they blame her? He bet they did.
Oliver had told him that Victoria had a sister who’d left home as a teen. A total rebel who’d fallen in with the kind of people Victoria’s family would have nothing to do with. So they’d then had nothing to do with her. The sister had become persona non grata—her name never mentioned, memories of her life expunged from the family home. And then Liam had watched Victoria—seen the way she’d deferred and smiled and obeyed. Too afraid to ever rock the boat. But she’d spoken up with him that first