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Two cars are waiting for us when we disembark from the plane at the private hangar. Levin stays on the plane—it’s Viktor’s, after all, and it’ll take him back to Manhattan after this. A part of me almost wants to say I’ve changed my mind, that I’m going to stay on board and go back as well, that I’ll call Sofia and ask if I can stay with her for a little while.
But I don’t. I’d made a decision, and for me, those are few and far between these days. So I stick to it, getting off the plane with Liam and Max, my bags already transferred to one of the cars.
“There’s a reservation at the Newbury for you,” Liam tells Max. “Just check-in and let them know that Liam McGregor sent you.”
“Much appreciated.” Max inclines his head, stepping into one of the two cars and shutting the door, and I turn to face Liam as he opens the door of the other for me.
“After you,” he says, and my heart speeds up in my chest.
I look back at the plane, still waiting there. I could go back. I don’t have to get in this car, don’t have to go back to the house of a man I hardly know to live with him, don’t have to trust him. For once, in what feels like a very long time, I can make my own decision. Liam won’t force me.
A cool breeze picks up, ruffling through Liam’s hair and sweeping mine around my face, and it makes him look younger, almost boyish. At this moment, I see what almost looks like a glimmer of hope in his eyes—hope that I’ll get in the car, hope that I’ll trust him, that I’ll go back with him.
“I won’t make you get in the car, Ana,” he says quietly, as if he can read what I’m thinking on my face. “But I would like you to.”
And that, in the end, is the reason that I nod, leaning forward and sliding into the cool leather interior of the town car.
Because he isn’t going to make me.
Liam is quiet on the drive to his apartment. He sits across from me in the car, his hands resting in his lap. The dark divider is up between the driver and us, but there’s no hint that he might try anything with me. We simply sit in silence, and part of me can’t decide if I’m disappointed or not that he hasn’t tried to touch me in any way.
It was twenty-four hours ago that he had his mouth between my legs, licking me to multiple orgasms as I writhed and moaned beneath his hands and his tongue. Still, since then, he’s been distant, careful not to touch me or come on to me in any way.
Maybe he regrets it. After everything that happened, maybe he doesn’t want you like that anymore.
“We’re here,” Liam says a little while later, breaking me out of the anxious tangle of thoughts that followed. He gets out first, opening the door for me and taking my hand to help me out of the car. The feeling of his long fingers wrapping around mine makes me shiver, and I look up at him, wanting to read what he’s thinking on his face. But his gaze is carefully shuttered, as it has been since I had the panic attack on the plane.
“I hope you like it,” he adds, as we walk up the path to the towering building. We’re in downtown Boston, and I look around, taking it in. It feels smaller after being used to downtown Manhattan. However, it’s still bustling, full of people probably headed home from work, considering the time. “I’m not much of an interior decorator, but I hired someone. And there’s a pool and hot tub on the roof if you want to use them. I’ll leave an access key for you.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely—“ I start to say and then go silent as we enter the lobby of the building, Liam leading the way.
I’ve seen plenty of luxury since Sofia and Luca got together—I’ve been in his building and penthouse, both of which are gorgeous, plenty of times. But the fact that I’m going to belivinghere makes this feel different, somehow.
The floors are a black and cream art-deco style, veined with gold, and there’s a trickling fountain in the middle of the lobby. I can see a gleaming black concierge’s desk at the far end, though there’s no one there now. Beyond that, a pair of opaque French doors probably leading to a restaurant or a bar. To my left, I can see a gold plaque with arrows directing occupants to the yoga studio, dry cleaners, fitness room, or indoor dog park, and I blink, glancing over at Liam.
“This feels more like a hotel than a residence,” I murmur, looking around. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Luca’s building—”
“Luca keeps his for only himself and his security,” Liam says with a shrug. “No one else lives there. But that’s not our way. I might have the nicest apartment in this place, but there are other residents.” He laughs. “Having an entire building to myself would seem—extravagant.”
Extravagant is right.I’d never thought of it quite like that, but as I follow him to the elevator, I can’t help but feel this is solidly extravagant in its own right. The elevator has a marble floor, with a gold railing and mirrors all around, and I catch sight of my face in them—my skin pale, my eyes red-rimmed.
No wonder he didn’t want to touch you in the car. You’re not exactly anything to look at, just now.
I tear my eyes away from my reflection, hating it, just in time to see Liam inserting the access key for the penthouse. He turns to face me, his green eyes meeting mine, and I’m suddenly very aware of how close I am to him, of how with one step, he could back me up against the back wall of this elevator, and—
His eyes darken as if he can read what I’m thinking, written all over my face. My breath catches in my throat as his gaze flicks from my eyes down to my lips, and he moves a step closer, his own chest rising and falling more quickly. Here in this closed space, I’m aware of how tall he is, how muscular, the bulge of his arms against the black t-shirt he’s wearing, the fine smattering of copper hair on his arms. I can smell a faint hint of cologne, something lemony, and I force myself to look away from him, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Ana.” His voice is hoarse, his accent thicker than usual. “Ana, look at me.”
It takes effort to do so. My heart is hammering in my chest, and I’m afraid of what I’ll see in his face. But slowly, I drag my gaze back up to his, stepping back even as he steps forward again, the small of my back bumping against the gold railing as the elevator climbs higher.
Liam’s emerald gaze holds mine, his hands gripping the railing on either side of me as he leans forward, and I can feel the warmth of his body so very, very close to mine.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now, Ana,” he murmurs, his voice low and deep. “I won’t touch you again until you want me to. I promise you that.”
My mouth feels dry, but it’s the only thing that does. My palms are sweating, my heart pounding, and between my thighs, I can feel that gathering dampness, that ache starting to spread through me. He’s so close, and in another minute, he could kiss me. It wouldn’t take much. Just another inch, another breath, and his lips would be on mine—