by Alexia Adams
“Glad you like it,” he said after a minute. He couldn’t think about the future until he told her about the book.
…
Lorelei stood in the hallway and surveyed the room. Liam was about ten feet away, watching her reaction. He must think her a complete hick, in awe at her first rich person’s house. Except it wasn’t like any rich person’s house she’d seen on TV. It wasn’t gold and marble, ostentatious or elaborate. The dark wood floor, cream and russet rugs, elegant artwork, and thick, luxurious pile carpets probably cost a fortune, but they didn’t shout “look at me.” The whole place was warm, comfortable, and incredibly beautiful. She was trying so hard not to picture herself living here, a bruise was forming where she kept pinching her arm.
She wondered who had helped him decorate—some other woman who had imagined herself here? That took her back to reality with a bump. How many other women had Liam brought here?
“It’s so beautiful, Liam. Your decorator really knew how to make a place gorgeous and comfortable at the same time.”
“Thank you. I decorated it myself. I wanted the home I never had…”
Before she could ask about his childhood, he straightened abruptly and walked toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Jason packed us a lunch. Make yourself at home, wander around. I’ll go get it.”
Without another word he left the house. Leaving the entrance hallway, she poked her head into a living room. A wall of windows looked out onto a vista of rows of tended vines to a shimmering blue lake and rolling distant hills. The view was breathtaking. A soft thud alerted her to the front door closing.
Lorelei returned to the entrance hall but it was empty. She wandered into a few more rooms. A huge home office took up one whole side of the house. The rich mahogany furniture was surrounded by overflowing bookshelves. Running her finger along the spines of a range of books, she read the authors names—Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Chekhov. Never would she have thought Liam would be into Russian literature; maybe it was set decoration.
The next room she found was the kitchen. Expecting stainless steel appliances and black granite countertops she was taken aback to find a room her abuela would be happy to cook in. Pale-cream colored cupboards and wooden countertops were set off by a soft blue paint scheme. Mismatched wooden chairs surrounded a round off-white table. A large blue bowl full of fresh fruit sat in the center. If Liam rarely visited why was there fresh fruit on the table? Of course, he could have a live-in housekeeper. It didn’t solve the mystery of where Liam was now.
She abandoned the heart of the home and wandered up the stairs. What if he was lying naked on the bed, waiting for her? Okay, she may have veered into the realm of fantasy again. After peeking into three very nice bedrooms, she finally found the master suite. A huge four-poster bed dominated the room. And a large fireplace competed for attention with the same amazing view the sitting room had. French doors led out onto a deck with wicker furniture arranged for a private morning coffee to watch the sun rise over the mountains. That was provided a person could be persuaded to get out of bed in the first place.
Running her fingers over the silk bedspread, she was lost in a fantasy, imagining retreating to this room at the end of the day, after putting the children to sleep in the other bedrooms she’d seen. Liam would shut the door, walk over to her, and kiss her until they fell onto the bed, discarding clothes as they went. She closed her eyes, thinking about running her hands over his torso, feeling his quivering muscles under her fingertips.
“I thought I’d find you here. But don’t you think we should eat lunch first? I have a feeling I might need stamina.”
Liam’s deep voice, with a hint of laughter behind the words, interrupted her musings. Her cheeks grew hot and she was sure he could read her mind, knowing what she’d been thinking about.
“Your house surprised me. I didn’t take you for a reader of Russian classics.”
“They’re Marcus’s books. What do you think of the rest of the place?”
“I love it.” Did he flinch at her use of the L-word? “It’s spectacular. I didn’t think you’d be a four-poster bed man.”
“Oh, what did you think I’d sleep in?” He took a step toward her. She backed against one of the posts and he put his hand above her head, hemming her in. Her heart rate tripled and she took a calming breath. All that did was fill her head with his scent.
“I don’t know, a plain platform bed?”
“That would have been my first choice. Marcus insisted this bed was better. More romantic, I think his words were.”
Lorelei nodded. Her throat was too tight for speech. How many women had enjoyed the romance? She was beginning to feel awkward in the room where so many other women had stood before.
“So, was he right?” Liam put his hand on her cheek, gently raising her face.
“What?”
“Was Marcus right about it being more romantic?”
“Why ask me?” Surely more sophisticated women had given their opinion.
“Because you’re the first woman to see it, aside from the cleaner.”
She searched his eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” He lowered his head and kissed her so gently she thought she’d imagined it. “Now, let’s have lunch. You’ll have plenty of time to explore this room later.”
“Promise?” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips.
He groaned. “Promise.”
Chapter Twelve
A soft breeze blew up the hill from the vineyard, cooling the terrace. A faint scent of lavender floated on the air from two large pots at the top of the concrete stairs leading down to the lawn. Liam poured a glass of wine for Lorelei as she filled her plate with the delicacies Jason had packed for their lunch.
Popping an olive into her mouth, she studied her companion. She wasn’t sure why Liam was so reticent about making love to her. He seemed to desire her; the look in his eyes when he’d found her in his bedroom spoke of a deep passion. Yet she could tell he was holding back. Could he still think she wanted time to get to know him? Enough already. For once all three—head, heart, and body—were in agreement. She wanted Liam.
He sliced a loaf of bread with sure, precise movements. Maybe he was too programmed to follow a set course of events? Well, she was going to take a leaf out of his book and see if she could find a weakness in his firewall.
First step, disrobe a little. She pulled off the sweater that had been the modest touch to her dress, yet another one of Mandy’s selections. It had a halter neck, tying up at her nape, with a deep vee at the front. Plucking the clip from the back of her head, she shook her hair until it tumbled around her shoulders. With both hands she lifted the hair off her neck and gave it another shake before letting it fall again. Liam’s hand tightened on the knife, his knuckles showing white. That had attracted his attention.
When Liam sat across from her, she leaned back in her chair, crossed her legs and pulled the skirt of her dress up higher on her thigh. Picking up her glass, she swirled the red liquid in the glass as she’d seen wine connoisseurs do on television. She took a sip and let the wine slide over her tongue. It was smooth and full of flavor, but she could never taste the things usually written on the back of the bottle—blackberries and peaches and such.
The bottle on the table had no label so she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be tasting. It was kind of liberating that way, allowing her taste buds to discover the flavors. Of course, her senses were too tied up with the handsome man next to her to spend a lot of time analyzing the wine.
Twisting in her seat, her skirt slid up another couple of inches. She caught Liam staring at her legs before she waved toward the rows of grapevines a hundred feet from the house. “Is this wine from here?”
He cleared his throat. “Yes. Do you like it?”
“It’s fabulous. Do you produce many bottles?”
“We don’t sell commercially. I give some away to friends and business acqua
intances, and enjoy the rest myself. It’s a hobby, really. I have a full-time vintner who cares for the vineyard. We can tour the vines after lunch if you want.”
“Hmmm,” she answered noncommittally. If Liam was still thinking of any other tour than his bedroom she had better ramp up her seduction attempts.
She ran a finger down the V-neck of her dress and up the other side. Liam’s eyes followed her movement and she saw his jaw clench in response. When his eyes met hers they were full of hot desire.
“You’re playing with fire,” he murmured.
“I hope so,” she said.
Liam picked up a piece of the fresh bread and loaded it with a selection of cheeses and cold meats from the tray. He took a huge bite as though trying to hurry lunch along. Lorelei rolled up a piece of ham and popped it into her mouth. She wasn’t really hungry.
As he watched she took a pickle, then slid it into her mouth slowly, savoring the sharp vinegar taste after the tart wine. A couple pieces of cheese followed. Putting her plate on the table, she leaned back and sipped her wine, waiting for Liam to finish.
“I thought I saw a swimming pool from the upper deck,” she said as silence loomed between them.
“Yes, there’s a pool and hot tub on the other side of the house. I wanted the view from the terrace to be of the vines and hills. I didn’t realize it was going to be so warm today or I would have told you to bring your swimsuit.”
“As we’re the only ones here, I don’t mind skinny-dipping.” Heat invaded her face. Okay, so skinny-dipping was way beyond her comfort level, but she’d laid her cards on the table; time for Liam to call her bluff.
He laughed, sat back, and took a sip of his wine. “So that’s how the day is going to go. I thought you might enjoy a tour of the valley, to visit some of the famous wineries, maybe have a quiet dinner in one of the local restaurants. There’s a very nice French bistro over in the next town.”
Lorelei plucked a strawberry off the table, rolling the fruit on her tongue before taking a bite. So far she was a complete failure on the seduction front. “If that’s what you want…”
She stared at the view, wondering what her next move should be. The scraping of metal chair legs on the concrete terrace made her turn back to Liam. He was standing now, putting a cover on the food.
“What I want is to make love to you all afternoon until you’re too exhausted to stand. To explore every inch of your delectable body until I’m about to explode. However, I don’t want you to mistake what this means, Lorelei. I can’t make you any promises about the future. If you can’t accept that, then let’s either wander around the vineyard or tour the valley. I don’t want you to wake up with regrets tomorrow.”
His bluntness was as refreshing as it was disturbing. Every other man she’d slept with had wooed her and filled her head with promises of love and tomorrow. Lorelei swallowed. She’d come to consider her future so wound up with his, to discover he didn’t see things the same stung. Liam offered her nothing but an afternoon of pure delight.
If she was smart she’d opt for the tour, but she couldn’t deny herself the opportunity to taste his loving. Her body overruled head and heart on this one. “I won’t, Liam. I promise.”
Before the last word was out of her mouth, he pulled her hard against him. Threading his hand into her hair, he tilted her head to receive his descending lips. His other kisses had been gentle, soft, tentative almost. This was a no-holds-barred assault on her senses. His tongue did battle with hers. The hand at her waist slid around and cupped her breast, his thumb teasing her nipple into a tight bud.
Abruptly, his lips released hers and he was trailing fiery kisses down her neck, lingering for a moment on her collarbone. His tongue traced the prominent bone till it reached the central U shape. He kissed her there until her knees buckled. She’d never realized how sensitive a spot it was. He traced his way along the rest of her clavicle until he reached the strap of her dress. From there he trailed kisses up her neck, nibbled on her earlobe.
“The rest of my explorations require more privacy,” he whispered.
She nodded weakly, wondering if her mind would work well enough to put one foot in front of the other. Before she could take a step, however, Liam swung her into his arms, carrying her with little effort.
He strode through the French doors and into the entranceway. As he placed his foot on the first stair, a rustle at the front door caused him to pause. He whirled around as the door opened.
Lorelei raised her head from his chest to see a tall blond woman enter the house. Every muscle in her body stiffened.
The woman dropped the bag of groceries she had in her arm, sending a couple avocados wobbling across the floor. “Michael?” Her eyes were huge and her mouth remained open.
“Amy, what are you doing here?” Liam’s deep voice rumbled against Lorelei’s ear. He didn’t seem pleased to see the unexpected visitor.
He set her down gently, standing between her and the newly arrived addition to their party.
“Oh God, it’s you, William. For a second I thought you were your rat bastard father.”
…
What the hell is she doing here?
“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Amy recovered her composure enough to rake Lorelei with her malicious eyes.
He did his best to shield Lorelei from his mother’s spiteful gaze.
“No. I expect you to turn around and walk out the door.”
Lorelei stood on the step behind him. She put her hands on his shoulders and he could sense her peeking around him, undoubtedly curious to see his mother.
“William! I didn’t raise you to be so rude.”
You barely raised me at all. However, he didn’t want Lorelei to think he was ashamed of her. He reached around. When she stood beside him, he put his arm around her shoulder, holding her against his side. If Amy wanted to meet Lorelei, then his mother would have to take the first step forward.
She waited a moment by the door before walking over to them.
“Lorelei, this is my mother, Amy Manning. Amy, this is my…girlfriend, Lorelei Torres.”
“Pleased to meet you,” they both said in unison.
Introductions over, Liam returned to his original question. “What are you doing here?”
She had the sense to contemplate the floor as she answered. “I’m living here.”
“What?” Liam held his temper as best he could, for Lorelei’s sake. Clenching his teeth, he forced the hand not around Lorelei to remain relaxed. The little bit of lunch he’d eaten rolled in his stomach. He hated that seeing his mother made him feel small and unlovable again. How could she still have this power over him? The warmth Lorelei had brought to his life dissipated under his mother’s icy glare.
“Well, Marcus was living here…toward the end. And after…well, you don’t come here anymore. I thought, why should I bother paying rent when this place is sitting empty?”
“It’s still trespassing. You’re here without my consent. I’ll give you to the end of the week to find someplace new and move out.” He’d tolerated his mother for Marcus’s sake. There was no reason to do so any longer.
“I’m your mother,” Amy said, a hitch in her voice.
“Are you reminding me, or yourself?”
“Liam.” Lorelei put her hand on his arm and waited for him to turn his attention to her. Her expression was one of concern, although he couldn’t tell if it was for him or Amy. “Why don’t we have a coffee, sit down and talk,” she said.
Blackness behind his eyes threatened to overcome him. Whether it was rage or despair, he didn’t want to analyze the emotion. He had to get away from Amy before she sucked any more joy from his life. He had to go. Now.
“I have nothing to say to her. If you want to chat I’ll be waiting in the study when you’re done.” He turned to move into the other room when his mother’s near hysterical voice stopped him.
“You are just like your father! A self-centered, lying bastar
d.” A sneer covered her face, turning the once beautiful mask ugly.
Liam’s hands balled into fists. He wasn’t going to be insulted in his own home. “Get your bag, Lorelei. I’ll meet you in the car.”
He strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.
…
“He’ll break your heart, you know. He doesn’t have one,” Amy said. Lorelei reached for her bag, which she’d left on the table near the door.
She turned to the other woman. From a distance she’d been beautiful—perfect makeup, flawless skin. Up close, however, Lorelei could see that bitterness had eaten away at her inner beauty until all that remained was an empty, envy-riddled shell.
“I disagree. I think Liam has a huge heart, just waiting for the right person to love,” she said. She turned and put her hand on the door handle.
“Love, ha. The only love he’s interested in is the one that results in bastards like him. Just like Liam’s doing to you, his father seduced me, promised me the world. All he gave me was a brat who destroyed my marriage.”
Lorelei’s blood began to simmer. There was no warmth or maternal feelings in the other woman. “Seems to me you destroyed your own marriage. And his father did give you one incredible gift—Liam.”
“You don’t know my son.”
“No, I think it’s you who doesn’t know him. Liam hasn’t seduced me and he’s made no promises he won’t keep. So far all he’s asked for is my time, and he’s given me much more than that. He’s a brilliant, caring man who puts others before himself.”
“Would a caring man throw his own mother out?”
“How can he throw you out when you’ve never let him in? This is Liam’s house. I believe he gets to decide who lives here. You’ve missed out on something wonderful, your son. I only hope for your sake it isn’t too late.”
