Chapter 27 Andrea #2
I glanced at Liam. He was looking at me, unmoving, like he thought I might say something. I had nothing, just a rising sense of heat at the back of my neck.
The lady behind the desk looked from him to me. “This is one of our most requested suites, ma’am—très spacious. I’m sure you will be comfortable there.”
“Yes, thank you.” Liam kept his hand on my back and picked up the room keys, turning back to Bonnie. “Could I have a word? I’ll be right back, Andrea.”
Bonnie and Liam moved a few feet away, deep in discussion. I sank into a nearby chair and pulled out the etiquette guide from Bonnie—something to take my mind off this latest disaster. Stuff about titles, forks, and how enthusiasm is considered socially aggressive.
He had to fix this. I’d almost lost my marbles before, listening through the wall like a madwoman, and we weren’t even in the same room. How the hell was I going to handle being this close to him for three days?
After a couple of minutes, Liam walked over. “Andrea, let’s find a quiet place to talk.” He guided us toward a lounge just off the lobby, Bonnie at his elbow. A waiter appeared and set down three tall glasses of sparkling water with slices of lime.
“One room won’t work for me,” I said. “It’s just … it’s not … I can’t—”
Bonnie sipped her drink and leaned back, legs crossed elegantly. “Well. We can hardly march back to the desk and demand separate quarters. Half the Stewart wedding party is milling about in the bar already.”
Liam’s jaw flexed. “It was a mistake, Andrea. I’m sorry.”
“The hotel misunderstood,” Bonnie said smoothly.
Liam fixed a look on her, his eyes cold. “The hotel?”
“I … miscommunicated,” she added, with the barest roll of her eyes. Huh. I guess she didn’t speak French then. Well, that was a relief.
“It’s unfortunate,” said Liam. “And it leaves us rather short on options.”
“It’s less than ideal,” Bonnie said, “but we mustn’t draw attention. If you make a scene, Andrea, everyone will know the whole thing is staged.”
“She isn’t going to make a scene, Bonnie,” said Liam, his voice low. “This is bad form, and you know it.”
Bonnie shifted in her chair. Did I see her cheeks change color?
“Perhaps we can make it work, Andrea.” Liam leaned forward. “We’ll have the staff bring in a rollaway. Or I’ll take the couch in the salon.”
My throat felt dry, despite the lime water. “I thought … I assumed we’d have separate spaces. Privacy …”
“So did I.” Liam spoke through tight lips.
“A rollaway works, surely?” Bonnie said. “Please don’t make a fuss. If anyone sees you behaving as if you can’t share a space, they’ll sniff out the truth in seconds.”
Don’t make a fuss?
“It’s not that,” I said. “I just—”
“I understand, Andrea. It’s not acceptable.” Liam’s gaze rested on mine. “If we can’t sort something out, we’ll fly you home. Okay?”
“Fly her home, Liam? What are you talking about?” Bonnie’s face had gone white. “We’re so close with Hugo. Something like this could blow the whole thing. It’ll look like you’ve had a fight, he might think you’re back to your old ways.”
“That won’t be on Andrea. That’ll be on you.”
I felt that feeling again, like when he’d squeezed my shoulder at the college in front of Hugo. Protected.
Was he really prepared to risk the whole thing with Novexia—after everything we’d already done, the prep, the dinner, the Union—just so I didn’t feel uncomfortable?
A waiter arrived with a tray of olives and dips, but nobody touched them. Bonnie uncrossed her legs and looked away, a line forming between her eyes.
“This is serious, Liam,” she said, without looking back. “If Andrea leaves now, you’re taking a real risk.”
“Thank you, Bonnie. We’ll speak about this later,” he said. “Andrea and I need to talk. Privately.”
“Oh, I see.” Bonnie drew her knees together. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then.” She stood and walked away.
When she’d gone, he turned to me. “Andrea, I’m sorry. I hope you understand I had no intention for anything like this to happen. If you want to go home, you can. It’s not on you to carry the weight of Bonnie’s mistake.”
But I couldn’t let him do that—not if it was as important as he said.
“Surely, there must be something else we could do,” I said. “Maybe I could switch rooms with Ben … or Bonnie … and one of them could share with you?”
Liam smiled. “I appreciate that. But I’m afraid that might be worse than you flying home. If someone saw Bonnie in my room after normal hours, or you coming out of Ben’s, you can imagine what they might think. Especially considering the image we’re trying to convey.”
Right, of course. That would look worse than people thinking this was fake.
“If you want the jet, I’ll make a few calls, and you can be home by evening. I’ll say you fell ill. Hopefully, nobody suspects anything.”
“But won’t that put your project at risk?” I asked. “Your plans for Novexia …”
The plans that were ruining my friends’ lives and breaking the company apart. Why did I still feel like I wanted to help him?
“It will, yes. But you didn’t sign up for a shared bed or even a shared room. I know that.”
“If we did try to make it work,” I said. “Sharing the space …”
“Oh.” He paused. “Well, if you’re prepared to consider it, I’d simply be on the rollaway. I’d move it out to the balcony, and you could have the bedroom. As far as sharing the suite goes, I’d make myself scarce while you’re showering or getting undressed …”
His eyes rested on mine for a second and then dropped.
Were we both thinking about the last time we’d got undressed together? Was that only five weeks ago?
If that was where my mind went at the drop of a hat, there was no way we could do this. I could barely trust my thoughts when I was alone with him as it was. I couldn’t sleep in the same room as him—I just couldn’t.
But it wasn’t like I didn’t trust him. We’d had a bad start with him leaving so soon after we’d …
well, yeah, that—And then there was the misunderstanding at the meeting afterward.
But he’d apologized for both those things, and he’d never given me any reason to feel uncomfortable around him. If anything, quite the opposite.
The person who couldn’t be trusted … was me.
I stirred the ice in my glass. A lot was riding on this for Liam, I knew that. I’d be dropping him in it, and that felt … unkind.
“Andrea, if this is about what happened in my bedroom,” he said quickly. “I mean, the first time you came over, with the Snuggie—”
With the Snuggie?
“I saw your face,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … you know. Be inappropriate.”
He thought that was what this was about?
I still couldn’t get it out of my head, the look of him there, half naked, reminding me of how he’d felt in my arms, between my legs. We’d been so close we’d almost kissed.
The only thing inappropriate about that situation was what I’d wanted him to do to me.
Neither of us spoke. The olives sat in front of us, untouched.
“Why don’t you give it some thought, Andrea,” he said. “I don’t want you to feel under pressure because Bonnie screwed up.”
He met my eyes, steady and neutral, but a current crackled underneath.
I wanted to stay distant—to remember the redundancies, the neat corporate language they’d used to slice through people’s jobs.
But now he was offering me his private jet, saying he’d risk losing whatever he had going with Hugo, just so I wouldn’t feel awkward.
I couldn’t quite square the ruthless billionaire with the man in front of me—this version of him who remembered to be kind.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll stay.”
A traitorous lift in my chest, something I knew I shouldn’t want. Something I knew could escalate if I wasn’t careful.
Well. I’d just be … careful.
He looked at me, and the corners of his mouth curved up, but he didn’t speak. The silence between us balanced on an edge, and then Dex’s voice sliced through it, cheerful and oblivious.
“Drinking already?”
He dropped into the chair beside us. “Not a bad spot, is it?”
I straightened and looked out the window. “It’s amazing,” I said. “I’ve never seen a forest quite like it.”
“What’s this, some light bedtime reading?
” He reached to grab my etiquette guide from the coffee table, but Liam covered it with a single, easy motion.
“Work stuff,” he said mildly. “Briefing notes for my catch-up with Hugo tomorrow. Thought I’d get a head start.
” He stood, as if the matter were settled.
Dex sat back, already bored. “Jesus, you never stop, do you?”
“Occupational hazard,” Liam said. He turned to me. “Come on. Let’s head up before Ben orders the entire cocktail list.” His hand dropped to my back again. I tried to ignore it, but the warmth bled through my thin shirt.
I looked up at him like I imagined an actual girlfriend might, but it felt too real, especially knowing we were heading upstairs together to a shared room.
“Oh, we’ve got the welcome reception at the chateau at seven,” Dex said. “Shall we meet you there?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Liam called over his shoulder as he steered me toward the lifts.
Well, I guess I was actually doing it then—sharing a room with Liam Roth. But there was nothing to worry about, at least for the time being—of course there wasn’t. I’d just freshen up, eat something, maybe even flick through Bonnie’s guidebook.
It was a shame it didn’t have a section on avoiding French words that meant something entirely different from what you thought—though knowing Bonnie, it probably did.
What I really needed was a section on avoiding Liam Roth.
That, I suspected, was going to be the harder rule to follow.