His hand slips under the tablecloth, finding my knee beneath the green silk, and a shiver runs through me at the warmth of his palm against my skin.
“I know, and trust me, I—I want that too.” I take another sip of my wine, trying to steady my thoughts. “But Liam, there’s more to this than that. You’re—you’re an Irish King, and I’m—”
“Did Sofia tell you to think about these things while she was here?” Liam’s lips thin slightly. “You don’t need to worry about that, Ana. Those things are for me to worry about—”
“She didn’t,” I tell him quickly. “Not everything I think is because someone else put it in my head, Liam—”
“That’s not what I meant.” He lets out a sigh, taking another sip of his wine. We’re momentarily interrupted by the server reappearing with our appetizers—a delicate-looking bruschetta, caviar on toast points, and what looks like beef tartare with a runny egg on top. My stomach growls—I haven’t eaten all that much today, although I’d made sure to at least manage something for breakfast and lunch. I reach for one of the toast points, gingerly taking a bite. I’ve never had caviar before, but I’m not sure if this is the appropriate time to bring that up.
“Luca and Viktor aren’t overly pleased with my having you here either,” Liam says. “I thought perhaps Sofia had thoughts about it as well, that she’d shared with you.”
“Sofia just wants me to be happy,” I say softly. “If I want to be here, then she’ll support me. If I want to go to Manhattan and stay with her, she’ll support me in that too.”
“That must feel good to have that.”
“She’s my best friend.” I set the toast on the small, delicate china plate in front of me. “Do you have anyone like that?”
“In a way.” Liam frowns. “Niall is like a brother to me. He is, for all intents and purposes, my best friend. I know he’d do anything for me. But he doesn’t always agree with my decisions.”
“Is this a decision he doesn’t agree with?”
Liam nods. “He thinks I should marry Saoirse. In fact, the overwhelming consensus seems to be that I should marry Saoirse.”
“And yet here I am,” I murmur. “Out on a date with you.”
“Here you are.” Liam’s hand is still on my knee, his fingers rubbing over the rounded bone there. “I love you, Ana. I know that we haven’t known each other for long. I know that it’s not easy what we’re doing here. But I want, more than anything, for you to believe that. To trust in it—that whatever comes, I love you.”
“I do believe it,” I say softly. “But I also know that sometimes, love isn’t enough.”
Liam looks at me as he takes a bite of the beef tartare, curiosity in his eyes. “Your parents?”
I nod. “Among other things. My mother loved my father very much, or at least that’s what I remember. When we came to New York, I was young, but I never remember a raised voice between them. I only remember them touching each other, smiling. But my father got into trouble with the Bratva in Russia. He was murdered—and my mother and I fled here.” I give Liam a sad, tentative smile. “They loved each other, but it wasn’t enough to save him. He died, and she was never the same after. She never loved again, never married again. He was it for her, and I saw that she was somehow—less, when he was gone. Like a part of her had been carved away, a part that she needed.”
“I would argue that her love for you saved you, though,” Liam says, sipping his wine. “Her love for you was enough to get you both here, to give you a good life.”
I nod. “In a way, I guess that’s true. But the point remains the same. If us being together causes problems with the Kings—are they really going to care that we love each other?”
Liam pauses, and I can see him thinking about what I’ve just said. I haven’t saidI love youto him yet, not in so many words, because of his insistence that I wait until I’m certain that it’s only him that I love. And yet, I couldn’t stop myself from saying that, at least—because it’s true. I do love him, even if I can’t say it to him yet.
“Let me worry about that,” Liam says finally. “I should have told you everything sooner, Ana, I admit that. But you don’t need to worry about the decisions and machinations of the Kings. That’s for me to concern myself with once I’ve ended the engagement to Saoirse.”
“You’re going to do it? You meant that?”
“Yes,” Liam says firmly. “It’s been suggested to me that I should marry her anyway and keep you on the side—but I’m not going to do that,” he adds quickly, seeing the shift in my expression. “I know that you may not believe me entirely, considering the secrets I kept from you so far, but I think infidelity is abhorrent. When I marry, I’ve always intended to be faithful to my wife—which is part of why I can’t bring myself to marry Saoirse. She’s a beautiful, tough, intelligent woman, but I don’twanther, not in any way. Not in the way a man should want his wife. And I can’t resign myself to a cold, loveless marriage any longer, not after—”
His eyes glow in the candlelight, heating with desire, and the hand that’s on my knee slides a bit higher. “You’ve shown me things I didn’t know I could feel, Ana,” he murmurs softly. “I didn’t know the depths that desire could reach until I was with you. I can’t go back after that—not now, not ever. You’re it for me, and you always will be. So no, I won’t keep you on the side, and I won’t marry Saorise. But Ana—”
Liam takes a breath, and I can feel his hand tighten on my leg. “I need you to meet me there, too. I need you to fight for this as hard as I’m fighting for it. Because if I lose you, after risking everything else—”
The words hang in the air between us, and I don’t know what to say. I want to promise him everything, to tell him that there’s no one else but him, but I know that’s not entirely true, not yet. I’m finding my way there, little by little. But after he’s tried so hard to show me that he’s telling me the truth, I can’t bear to say anything to him that isn’t entirely true, either.
The server appears to take our orders, and the moment is broken. I’m almost grateful for it, although I can feel Liam’s eyes on me as he places his order of filet and lobster with gorgonzola sauce, and I place my order of lamb chops with demiglace and spring salad. As the server whisks away the remains of our appetizers, Liam clears his throat, and I know he’s going to make an effort to change the subject.
“So, what would your ideal date be, Ana?” He smiles crookedly at me as he takes another sip of his wine. “I planned this one as best as I could, under the circumstances, but since I hope there’ll be more, I want to know what you would pick, if you could do anything.”
“Anything?” I frown. “I don’t know Boston very well.”
“Anywhere,” Liam confirms. “Not just in Boston.”