Prosecco & Paparazzi (The Passport Series Book 1) (28 page)

“Your mother?”

“Yes, and if she calls again, I’ll turn off the ringer. She’ll invent an excuse to come and meet you.” Liam had exasperation in his voice.

Trying to suppress my concern at his mother showing up unannounced, I asked, “Where does she live?”

“Fortunately, almost an hour away, not to worry.” He must have seen the fear in my eyes.

The stress began to drain away with the hot water. Liam’s welcome was very gracious. After all of me had been lathered and rinsed, he wrapped me in fluffy towels and rubbed me down. He even attempted to comb my hair.

“How do you manage this every day?” he asked in despair, surrendering the large-toothed comb.

“I’ll worry about it later.” My body was a bundle of tingling nerve endings. After anchoring my hair in a messy bun, I took his hand and received a quick tour of the house, all the while wondering where his bedroom was.

When we entered it, I took in the dark wood flooring, the contemporary furniture, and the colorful duvet on the bed. This room seemed like Liam: inviting, warm, and edgy—but in a good way. I closed the door and dropped my towel. He was by my side, taking me in his arms without a moment’s hesitation.

Though it was hardly the first time we had made love, it was unique. It was the first time we had been alone in one of our own apartments. Liam’s essence enveloped us in an intimate cocoon. As he hovered above me, his caresses were tender and lingering, his words soft and promising. I felt too inhibited to speak such words, but I took his body to mine and wrapped myself tightly around him, hoping that all that I felt for him infused him.

Much later, when our breathing became hushed and the sunset washed the walls with orange and red, we both lay stunned by the experience. We could see it in each other’s eyes.

***

Waking with a start, I was confused by the darkness and unfamiliar surroundings. “Liam,” I whispered. His side of the bed was empty but warm. The clock on the bedside table said 10:08. Not knowing where my bag had gone, I groped around for my discarded towel and, wrapping it around me, went in search of Liam.

I followed the soft glow of light that bounced off the walls, down the stairs, and into the kitchen at the back of the house. The kitchen was galley-style, with a worn wooden table and chairs on the back wall, beneath a massive window that looked out to the garden. Liam was sitting naked on a chair, his back to the window, staring down at his shapely feet. He hadn’t heard me enter.

“I’m not sure we’ll make it. I’ll take her for a bite to eat and then, if it isn’t too late, we’ll stop by,” Liam said into the phone, then listened. “All right, then. Cheers, thanks for calling. Yep, we’ll see you then.” At that point, he looked up and saw me standing in the doorway wearing a towel.

He set down the phone as he walked toward me. “You’re amazing,” he said, taking me in his arms.

“You are, too. I feel all drifty, like this is a dream, that it can’t be real.” I softly twined my fingers into his hair and pushed my body more firmly against his. The movement caused the towel to slip to the floor. His nakedness against me, he growled softly as his fingers began exploring me again. He flicked off the kitchen lights, and we slid onto the table. “Is this thing sturdy enough?”

“I don’t know, but if it isn’t, we’ll go shopping for one of those, too.” He licked my neck.

***

Much, much later, I hated to bring up such banal issues as hunger, but I was starving. “Would you like to make something to eat?”

I felt his body laugh before I heard the sound.

“I was going to take you to this lovely restaurant just down the road, but I don’t think I can bear going back out into the world. Do you mind? Can we order take-away? I can have anything from Chinese to fish and chips here in ten minutes.”

“Chinese it is,” I replied.

After eating from the boxes at the kitchen table, I tapped its surface and said, “Nice table.”

“I’m growing fonder of it myself,” Liam replied, stuffing the last bite of garlic chicken in his mouth.

***

The next morning, I opened my eyes to see that the day was bright and sunny. It was Liam climbing back into bed that woke me.

“Good morning,” I murmured, my voice slightly husky from sleep.

“Good morning to you,” he said, before giving me a gentle kiss on the lips. When I rolled over, innocently brushing my leg against his groin, he whimpered in pain and carefully readjusted himself. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this. Charlotte, as much as I love you, as much as I long for you, please don’t do anything remotely sexy or sexual.”

That fully woke me. My eyes opened wide and I suppressed a big smile. “Wow, I’ve never heard that before.”

“Well, I think it was the four times in six hours that did me in.” He chuckled. “I haven’t done that since I was…” A pause while he mulled it over. “Well, ever.”

“I’m beginning to see what you mean. Or should I say
feel
what you mean? I’m not sure I can walk normally today. What’s your mother going to think when we walk in bow-legged, stiff, and sore?” I asked, chuckling at the vision in my head.

“Well, I don’t know what she’ll say, but my Dad will say, ‘Well done, lad.’”

Rising up onto an elbow to see the clock, I was shocked at the time and gasped. “There’s barely enough time to get ready. How long does it take to get there?”

“Don’t worry. No one in my family is ever on time. We’re supposed to be there for 1:00. We’ve loads of time. If we get there before 1:30, my mother will be putting things to right and get annoyed.” He pulled me down to his chest and ran a hand up and down my back.

Giving into it, I collapsed onto him. “
Mmm
, that feels good,” I mumbled into his hairy chest. “I could lie here all day. I have to say, I’ve been really looking forward to this. No one about, no demands. It’s wonderful to just lie here and relax.”

He continued his back rub and I wriggled in enjoyment. “Okay, you’re going to have to stop that. It’s playing havoc with my nether regions.” He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and pulled out a pair of brightly-colored boxers from the dresser drawer. “My back is sore!” He flexed from side to side before straightening up. “Would you like something to eat? I have some bread for toast and jam, or I can go down to the shops and get something more substantial, if you’d like. I had thought of stopping for a few things last night, but I was a desperate man.”

Turning around, he saw me laying on my back, watching him, an amused look on my face. “What?” he asked.

“I’m just trying to put the pieces together. The flashy car, the bright blue front door, the yellow boxers with pink stripes. I thought of you as a much more conservative person. It’s interesting.”

Sensing that I was more in the mood to talk than have a big breakfast, Liam climbed back into bed and rested his back against the headboard, pulling the white sheet up over his legs. “Well, there’s bound to be a few surprises. I love color, always have. I wanted to be a proper artist, but, since I wanted the flashy car, I realized I needed to make a better living than selling a few paintings at the Saturday market.”

“Now that you have the flashy car, have you thought of doing something else, or do you like your job? Have you ever thought of leaving Dublin?”

“Well, lately, I’ve been thinking of taking a trip to Saint-Tropez.” It took the briefest moment for his words to penetrate my thoughts.

“What?” I shot straight up in bed. The sheet fell down around my waist; I must have looked like a rumpled Lady Godiva.

“I was going to talk to you about it later, but later seems to be now. I really believe that we should go to Saint-Tropez. I know that time is short and that you have a great deal going on at work, but I think it’s time for the past to belong to the past. Let’s go to Saint-Tropez and confront the bastard. Tell Des Bannerman what you really think about him. Whatever happens, I’ll love you still.” He was holding on to my hands and kept eye contact with me the whole time he was speaking.

“I don’t know! What if it all goes wrong? What if I end up in jail? What if we ruin Tiziana’s party?”

“Charlotte, answer this one question. Other than talking to him, is there any other way of putting this business to rest and letting it belong to the past?”

Leaning back against the pillows and drawing the sheet up around my chest, I chewed my bottom lip for a minute. “No, I suppose not.”

“Then I say we go. If you end up in jail, I’ll bail you out or hire the best lawyer. We’ll do the right thing and apologize, if it comes to it, but really, so what? Everything isn’t about Tiziana. She’ll still be marrying the man she loves. You have a right to be happy, too. You have the right to not have this thing hanging over your head. Even if we were to find out that you
had
done something, wouldn’t it be better to know what it was?”

“I suppose so,” I answered nervously.

“Things are slowing down a bit at work, right?” I nodded. “Well, then, maybe Ms. Clarkson, Faith, will let you have a long weekend. We don’t have to go for the whole time.”

“I suppose so.” He looked at me expectantly. “Can I think about this? I need to think about it. We need to get ready to go to your parents’. Can we talk about it more tonight?” Clearly I needed his patience.

“Of course. I’m just glad you’re even considering it. I thought you’d say no and that would be that.”

***

An hour later, we pulled up in front of a flower shop just down the street. I jumped out of the car and dashed into the store to buy flowers for Mrs. Molloy. Re-emerging moments later with a brightly-colored bouquet, Liam reassured me, “She’ll love them,” before I could ask.

We zoomed down the byways of County Dublin, heading south with the Atlantic Ocean on my left. “So, where are we heading?”

“My parents live in a village called Enniskerry. They haven’t been there very long. They moved there after my father retired. It’s quiet and pretty with plenty to keep them happy. You’ll like it. Very touristy, right off a postcard.” Liam seemed happy and relaxed.

After driving for quite some time down a windy country road flanked by shrubs and briars, our flashy car came to a stop outside a golden cottage. The roof was steeply pitched, with two gabled windows peeking out and a chimney pot covered in soot. The trim was painted bright white. Out front, flowers of every color and kind were randomly planted. It was the quintessential cottage.

I was enchanted. “Oh, Liam, you’re right! I love it. It’s right out of a fairy tale. Don’t you wish you’d grown up here?” I gushed.

He came around to my side of the car and opened the door. “It is pretty, but, to a teenage boy, living in Dublin was much preferable. We’ll drive past the house I grew up in at some point.” He tugged me out of the car.

“Hold on a minute, I haven’t taken my seatbelt off!”

Liam apologized and we both laughed. “I guess I’m a bit nervous.”

“What do you have to be nervous about? I’m the one being looked over. I’m about to wet my pants.”

He leaned down and gave me a thorough kiss. “You’ll love them, they’ll love you, and if even if they don’t fall madly in love with you, I have. It’ll be fine. I’m more worried that my mother will bore you endlessly with stories of my ill-spent youth.”

“Well, from my perspective, that would be great! I’ve already seen you in action at the Easter egg hunt. I can only imagine the trouble you’ve gotten yourself into.” I laughed at the memory of his pushing Marcus headfirst into the hedge at the Clarksons.

Squeezing my hand, he dragged me away from the car, my hand releasing the handle at the last moment. “It’s easy for you. I didn’t make you meet my parents. My father would hate you!”

Over his shoulder, he shot me a surprised look. “I’m kidding!” We both started laughing so hard, we had to stop to catch our breath and settle down.

Wiping the smudged mascara from my eyes and running a hand nervously down my throat, I gave Liam a look that said, “I’m ready!” He then knocked with a few quick raps, then opened the front door and shouted to no one in particular, “Hello?”

There was no immediate answer, so Liam led me in and was heading down the hall toward the back of the house when we heard a call from above, “Hello. We’ll be right there.”

Liam showed me to the sitting room. In an antique glass cabinet next to the fireplace were pictures and trophies belonging to Liam and his brothers. He entertained me with a few stories while we waited for his parents.

“See, I told you that the Irish are always late. We were twenty minutes late, and they still aren’t ready,” Liam said quietly.

Just then, Mr. and Mrs. Molloy bustled into the little sitting room. Mr. Molloy walked forward and took my hand.

Though it was a little damp, his hand was warm and firm. Immediately, I took to the twinkle in his eyes. Liam said, “Charlotte, these are my parents, Eamonn and Niamh Molloy. Mam and Dad, this is Charlotte.”

Liam’s mother stepped forward. “Charlotte, it’s so very nice to meet you. We’ve heard what a lovely girl you are.”

I handed her the flowers. “These are for you. Thank you so much for inviting me, Mrs. and Mr. Molloy.”

Still holding my hand, Liam’s father gave it a gentle squeeze. “Enough of all that. Now, let’s relax and get to know one another. You can start by calling us Eamonn and Niamh.”

As we followed them to the back of the house, Liam’s parents gave us a brief tour of the garden. “Wicklow is famous for its gardens,” Eamonn was explaining when Liam intervened, offering to get the drinks. Eamonn ordered a glass of beer; Niamh was having white wine. I decided to have the same as her.

I felt a moment’s trepidation as Liam retreated to the house, leaving me alone with them. It must have shown, because his father leaned toward me and said, “Don’t worry, he’s coming back.” Surprised by his comment, I let out a laugh.

The afternoon was spent lazily chatting. Eamonn, a retired truck driver for a frozen food company, managed to coerce my family history from me. “So, your father owns a hardware store. I bet he really appreciates your sister’s husband taking an interest,” he said.