Chapter 33 Liam
Liam
“And how did you and Liam meet?”
The lady across from us—Claire—had no idea of the small charge she’d just let off. We were seated in the Grand Stables, long tables running the length of the former riding hall. Two places to my left, I saw Bonnie twitch.
Andrea smiled. The official script was flowing easily, now. How many times had she done this today already?
“Oh, it’s a funny story. We actually bumped into each other—literally”—cue polite laughter—“at an event we were attending separately in London. By coincidence, I was also working at the company Liam’s business was investigating for purchase. Destiny, apparently.” More laughter.
I moved my wineglass. Looking at the faces around us, you’d never guess this was supposed to be an act. Everyone was so keen to believe the fiction—that Liam Roth had finally found the right woman and settled down. A happy ending to an otherwise unhappy story.
I hadn’t dared hope it could be more than that, but last night, sharing a bed with her, feeling her body against mine?
Fuck, it had been hard not to pull her closer.
“What event did you meet at?” Claire’s partner, Ross, leaned forward.
“Comic Con.” Andrea touched me on the arm. “He was there on business, of course. I was just there for fun.”
Bonnie caught my eye briefly.
“And so you still work at the same place?” Claire continued. “How’s that, working alongside each other?”
Bonnie opened her mouth. This was exactly the sort of thread she didn’t want tugged.
“Andrea’s an artist, actually,” she said crisply, like it was a correction. “Her work was exhibited recently.”
“Oh,” Claire said. “Wow.”
Bonnie smiled and looked at me, something in her eye I hadn’t seen before. The subject shifted, and the conversation slid sideways, as intended.
I’d known Andrea liked to paint, but she’d never told me she was good at it. Why? If our paths had crossed without Novexia in the middle, would I have known about that part of her life?
All I had were glimpses, but the more I saw of her, the more I liked.
I knew she was kind, and funny, and brave, and sexy—fuck, this woman was sexy—but I hadn’t realized she was talented too.
I moved the fish around my plate.
I couldn’t think of her that way, given what I was supposed to be focused on. In two days, we’d be back in London, and the deal with Hugo would be done.
What excuse would I have to spend time with her then?
*
“Liam. Oh my God, it’s you.”
The only woman who could show up halfway through the reception of a society wedding, expecting everyone to just be grateful she was there.
Or maybe—not quite everyone.
Seeing her again was like a cold draft in a room you’d just warmed up.
Dinner was over. Waiters were clearing plates and refilling glasses. I turned to take Andrea’s hand but she was already heading toward one of the side passages leading out of the old riding hall, presumably looking for the bathrooms.
I called after her, but she didn’t turn.
And then she was on me.
Svetlana Belova.
A warning label I’d ignored once already. Her hair was slicked back in a blond ponytail. From across the room, I could see Dex clapping a hand over his face in my direction and wincing through his fingers.
Exactly how I felt.
“I knew I’d see you again in a room like this.” Svetlana leaned in for a kiss, her lips barely touching each cheek. “Looking good, Roth, civvy life agreeing with you?”
The words came out smooth but faintly off-center, her accent still unmistakable beneath the polish. Where was she from again—Slovakia?
“Still upright, Sveta,” I replied. “I’m calling that a win. And you, how are … things?”
I could do without this—where was Andrea, anyway? I needed her on my arm, to feel her warmth against me.
And getting rid of Sveta wouldn’t hurt, either.
“Meh.” She looked briefly at her gleaming white manicure. “You know me. I always have fun. I just got back from Lake Bled.”
Right. Of course. Slovenia.
She raised her eyes to mine, looking at me through heavy lashes. “It’s a shame we stopped hanging out. You were in such a bleak place, Liam. It was hard for me, you know.”
Just like that, I remembered why dating her had felt like trying to talk to someone who was already mid-selfie.
“I’m sure it was. Sorry about that, Sveta.”
I glanced over my shoulder, but Andrea was nowhere to be seen.
A waiter floated past with a tray of cocktails, but Sveta waved him away. Just outside the hall, live music started playing, and people started to drift toward it.
“You’re not drinking?” I asked. Highly unusual.
She laughed like I was in on the joke. “Strictly class As for me tonight, darling. It’s better, you know?” She shrugged and gestured to her slender physique encased in a white sequined dress that plunged almost to the navel. “I’ve got a show coming up, so …”
Yes, I knew. Too many calories.
“Of course.”
Fashion shows. Private jets. Celebrities. Parties. She treated it like a perfectly reasonable way to live.
I’d been good for a season. Access. Invitations. A seat where she wanted one.
It was so obvious, with hindsight.
Was it even her fault that things had been so fucking shallow? Maybe it was mine, maybe with all the women I’d dated before. It was hard to be yourself when you never knew why someone was really with you.
“I’m going through a politician phase now,” she said, looking bored. “It’s a shame, Liam. We had some fun, remember?” She leaned in, mouth brushing my ear. “Do you recall that hotel in Kotor? The pool with the fountain?”
I closed my eyes for half a second.
I did recall it. Unfortunately.
“Lucky they didn’t have cameras,” she whispered.
Something drew tight behind my jaw, like a cable being winched.
“Mm.”
It had not ended well. We had not ended well. Although she’d certainly come out of it with a few assets she didn’t have before, including a Versace Home armchair and a Baccarat crystal bowl, courtesy of my credit card.
Sveta took my hesitancy as an invitation and raised a delicate hand to my upper arm, her lips now at my neck. I could smell her perfume. Expensive and heavy, a little overpowering.
“We’re not like these people, Liam. They’re so small. We want more.”
She placed a finger against my chest. Instinctively, I stepped back, but she didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she didn’t care.
“If you wanted,” she said, “we’d still work. We always did.”
She ran her lips down the edge of my jaw, her breath hot against my skin.
I pulled my head back sharply. “Working” with Sveta just meant molding yourself around her. There was no other way.
Not something I had any appetite for revisiting.
I searched the hall for Andrea again. Where was she?
“I don’t think that’s what either of us wants, Sveta.”
She rolled her eyes and looked around the room.
“So where did you find her?” she asked, as if she were commenting on a new maid. “She’s very Temu, isn’t she? Looks good at a distance.”
Something in me went still. Andrea was immaculate tonight, and Sveta’s jealousy turned my stomach.
“I guess the question always is, is she actually up to the job?” she said.
Despite her beauty, Sveta suddenly looked rather ugly. Her perfectly slanted eyes were lifeless, her cheekbones harsh, not exotic.
“You’ve always been very confident about things you don’t understand,” I replied coldly. “This is one of them.”
Sveta held my gaze for a beat, then smiled as if I’d said something mildly charming.
“Well,” she said, looking away, bored. “You’ve changed.”
Before I could answer, Ben materialized at my shoulder like he’d been summoned.
“Sveta,” he said, delighted. “I was wondering how long it would take.”
She turned, assessing him, then smiled. “Ben Roth. You look handsome, darling.”
“Genetics. Though obviously I got the sturdier model.” He glanced at me. “We try not to compare.”
Dex popped up on my other side, already grinning. “This is where we pretend we’re surprised to see you, right?”
Sveta laughed. “It’s a gift, Dennis. Nice to see—” She stopped, a tiny wrinkle appearing between her brows. “But … your face—is that … deliberate?”
“Afraid so,” said Ben gravely, patting Dex on the shoulder.
“So was Brexit,” I added quietly, looking away.
“I told you that having a dead squirrel for a chin wouldn’t work for you, mate,” Ben said, leaning forward.
Sveta laughed again, louder this time. “You’re all terrible. I think it’s … sexy.”
There was a brief, stunned pause.
Dex looked hopeful. “Really?”
“No,” Ben said immediately. “She was being polite.”
Sveta laughed, her mouth open a moment too long. Maybe there was a camera somewhere.
“Miranda says it makes me look rugged,” Dex said, straightening.
“Miranda is lying to you,” I said. “Out of kindness.”
“Or pity,” Ben added.
Dex sighed. “I knew I should’ve stopped at stubble.”
“Yes,” I said. “That was peak facial hair for you.”
“You three really do travel as a unit, don’t you?” Sveta was already looking past us as she said it, attention drifting. Someone else. Something shinier. I’d seen it before. The exact second she stopped trying.
“We bond through cruelty,” Ben said cheerfully, enjoying himself nonetheless. Dex laughed, a fraction too loudly, still trying to look unfazed. They were both playing to her now, instinctively filling the space she’d created.
Good for them. At least they’d taken her attention off me.
Sveta’s hand brushed my sleeve, and across the room, Hugo caught my eye and raised his glass slightly, expecting me to come over.
Yes. The reason I was here. Novexia. Regulatory favors.
I nodded, then glanced back toward the corridor leading out of the hall. There were people everywhere, milling out toward the drinks area. Where was Andrea? We didn’t really have anything to prove now as far as convincing people went. I just wanted her with me.
“So nice to see you again, Sveta.” The lie slipped out easily.
Grateful for a reason to leave, I stepped away from the group, already rehearsing what I was going to say to Hugo.