Chapter 29 Liam
Liam
The car turned off the main road and began the long approach toward Chantilly. It was just before seven. Andrea sat beside me in a backless black dress. Her hands rested loosely on her lap, fingers pressed together.
Fuck. She looked stunning.
Seeing her here like this, next to me—I felt like I could finally breathe.
I knew it was just part of the agreement she’d signed, but somehow, that mattered less by the day.
Did she know that? Could she see it in my eyes?
Had she seen how I’d traced every divot and curve of her skin, unable to stop myself? How I’d wanted to rip that robe off her delicious body and taste her again?
I wanted her. Fuck, I wanted her.
Enough to take my eye off the ball and abandon this charade if it made her uncomfortable.
Thank God she hadn’t flown home. Having her on my arm meant more than impressing Hugo.
“You look beautiful, Andrea.”
She turned away from the glass and caught my eye before dropping her gaze to her hands, a small smile hovering at the corners of her mouth.
Through the trees, the chateau emerged by degrees—first the glint of stone, then the arc of the moat catching the light. We crested the rise and the full facade came into view, turrets rising against the evening sky. I heard her inhale softly.
As we passed through the gates, she sat up slightly. The driver stopped, and for a second, neither of us moved.
“Ready?” I asked.
She gave a nod, and I got out and came around to her side, watching as she stepped down carefully, heels clicking on the wooden flooring laid over the old courtyard stone. She moved so gracefully, so different from how she’d been when I’d met her in the lift that morning in July.
Ahead, the terrace of the Cour d’Honneur was alive. Lanterns lined the balustrades, the sound of strings carrying across the water. Waiters moved between clusters of people gleaming in rich fabrics.
“Andrea—”
She turned her head toward me, her eyes wide.
“I wanted to thank you. For dealing with all this, for everything …”
“Oh. It’s okay, Liam. It’s beautiful, the whole thing. Thank you for inviting me.”
A voice rang across the cobbles. “Liam Roth, is that really you?”
Nick was waving, glass in hand. Tall and lean, with reddish-brown hair, he looked almost exactly as he had at twenty-three—just more sure of himself. He hurried toward us, Juliette following, pale-blue gown glinting in the low light. They looked good together. Always had.
“Can’t believe you made it.” Nick pulled me into a hug. “It’s been—what—ten years? You look great, mate. Really well.” He stepped back, looking me up and down. “Something agrees with you, anyway.”
“Stopped living on nothing but Pot Noodles and Guinness.”
Nick laughed. “Must be working, whatever it is. God, how did we survive? And you must be Andrea.”
She smiled and held out a hand. “Nick, it’s wonderful to finally meet you. Liam’s told me so many stories. I hope they’re all true.”
Nick chuckled. “I’m afraid they probably are. But I’m happy to fill in any gaps. Oh, my manners, sorry. This is Juliette.”
“A pleasure.” Juliette stepped forward and shook Andrea’s hand, a light French accent softening her vowels. She leaned in and kissed my cheek. “Liam. It’s been so long. I’m glad you’re back in Europe. And for good reason, apparently.” She smiled at Andrea, then looked back at me.
“Yes.” I rubbed my cuff links. “We’ve, ah …
Andrea and I have been able to spend a lot more time together since I’ve been back.
It’s worked out well.” I smiled in a way I hope looked convincing.
“And of course, congratulations, both of you,” I said.
“You took your time, Nick. I was starting to think you were keeping her on retainer.”
Juliette snorted and waved me off. “Still outrageous, Liam. Some things never change.”
A waiter passed with a tray of kir royale, and I grabbed one for Andrea and me.
From the other side of the terrace, I could see Ben and Dex catching up with some girls from college.
I placed an arm around Andrea’s shoulder.
This time, she didn’t stiffen, just leaned into my side.
It was oddly comforting. Pretending in front of my old friends was harder than I’d expected.
“So, Andrea.” Nick turned to focus his attention on the woman under my arm. “My dad said you’ve been together almost a year. Hasn’t he put you off yet?”
“Well, he’s certainly given it a good shot over the past nine months. You know what he’s like.” She looked up at me and put a hand on my chest. It felt good there. Too good. “The truth is, things just keep getting better.”
Incredible how convincing she was.
“You should have seen him at Oxford back in the day,” said Juliette. “He wouldn’t talk to a girl unless she came with a study guide.”
“Not strictly true,” I said.
“Mate, you revised for dates,” Nick said. “We all saw it.”
Andrea looked up at me again and raised a brow. “Sounds like Liam.”
“And now look at you.” Nick gestured with his glass. “Used to hide in the dark at the back of the pub. Now you’re the one everyone’s watching.”
“Oh, he prefers dim lighting,” Andrea said. “It’s where he does his best work.” She nudged me playfully in the ribs.
Jesus. How could she be so casual, like we hadn’t spent hours together in the dim lighting of her flat? A one-off, but it was like she meant it.
Juliette’s head went back in a bark. “Did he tell you to say that?”
“Please. He’s not bold enough to script me.”
Nick and Juliette laughed.
With the top of her head almost completely under my chin despite the heels, I could smell her perfume again and wanted to pull her close. It felt like it should be natural, but both of us knew it wasn’t.
“And tell me, Andrea,” Juliette said, “what’s he like now? We used to tease him endlessly back at uni. Does he let you get away with that, or is he all serious now that he’s a big-shot CEO?”
Andrea laughed. “There’s a lot of teasing, but I think he enjoys it.”
“Ooh, what’s your nickname for him?” said Juliette. “We had a few at university. I’d love to hear yours.”
Andrea looked at me. Shit. We hadn’t planned for this.
“Oh, I don’t really have one.”
“C’mon,” said Nick. “Of course you do. Everyone ends up with one.”
I stiffened. Please, Andrea, don’t say Mr. von Hot. I will never live it down.
She kept her eyes on me like she wasn’t quite sure what to do.
“Aha, that look means you do,” said Nick, folding his arms. “Well?”
“Um … it’s”—she hesitated—“L.”
What the fuck—
She glanced at me.
“Elle?” Juliette raised a brow. “Like El from Stranger Things, or Elle MacPherson?”
“Money’s on MacPherson,” said Nick. “Look how pretty he is.”
Everyone laughed.
“Er, no … like L … for Liam,” said Andrea, not very convincingly.
“Oh, right.” Juliette stopped laughing, then started again. “I think I prefer Nick’s version actually.”
“So do I,” said Nick. “We can call him MacPherson for the rest of the night. You don’t mind, do you, Elle?”
“Very charming,” I said, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. Knowing Andrea, that could have been a lot worse. Thank God she hadn’t weaponized Galadriel.
“Well, shall we?” Nick gestured to an area just beyond the terrace. “Dinner’s being served in twenty minutes—although honestly, I think we’d both rather stay here and chat with you two.”
Andrea’s eyes crinkled as she looked up at me. She bit her lip and looked back at Nick and Juliette. “I think this weekend is going to be fun.”
I laughed too, but my pulse wouldn’t slow. For a woman who was pretending, she was far too good at it.
*
The tables were set up in the walled garden behind the chateau, with fairy lights looped between the trees. Beyond the low wall, the moat shimmered under the remains of the sun. It was a smaller event than I’d expected, maybe sixty of us total. The rest of the guests would be arriving tomorrow.
Andrea was sitting on my right chatting excitedly, her hands as much a part of the story as whatever she was saying. A couple of our old school friends sat there with Ben and Dex, one wiping tears from under his eyes.
“… so, there I am, completely straight-faced, telling the head of sales his fly is down, and he goes, ‘I know, it’s a power move.’”
“Are you serious?” Dex howled and almost spilled his drink, grabbing it just in time.
Hoots of laughter punctuated the conversation.
Andrea leaned in as she spoke. I’d forgotten how easily she could land a punchline.
She was so funny and quick when she was comfortable, like she had been over lunch that time.
It was a different version of her to the one I’d got earlier in the bedroom.
The one who hadn’t quite believed me when I’d talked about growing up.
Fuck, that had stung.
Having her think I was some sort of spoiled brat whose father had smoothed his way in the world hurt more than it should have.
But then … she’d apologized. And she sounded like she meant it.
You had to respect that.
I looked across the garden. There they were—Hugo and Miranda. I’d speak to them after dinner. I was here for Novexia after all—not to fret over what Andrea thought about me.
If only it were that simple …
“Christ, it is you. Thought you’d gone off to find yourself.”
The voice to my left was amused—one I recognized instantly. Not one I’d expected to hear again.
“Toby.” I stood, keeping my tone neutral. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
“Oh, you know me. Always drawn to free champagne and uncomfortable reunions.” He grinned and extended a hand. It hung in the air for a beat before I took it.
“Didn’t think we’d see him again after Cranwell-gate,” muttered Ben.
Neither did I. He’d dropped out partway through officer training and had never forgiven me for completing it.
Toby turned to Andrea with practiced charm. “And you must be the girlfriend. Brave woman.”
Andrea laughed politely.
“We were just talking about the good old days.” He thumbed to the other side of the terrace. “Back when Liam was still painting miniatures and getting excited over his little comics. Before he found … whatever he’s doing now.” He waved vaguely toward me.