We talked about the day as we drove. Surprising me, Liam pulled over to the wide canopied shoulder of the road. The moon was straight ahead. “What? Is something wrong?”
“Undo your seatbelt,” he said. In no time at all, his seat was reclined, and I was straddling his lap.
“I’ve never known parents to be an aphrodisiac before,” I said as I released his bottom lip from my teeth.
“I’ve never wanted anyone so much that even talking about my parents didn’t turn me off.” Liam sucked in his breath as I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my tongue across his nipples. After a minute, he lifted me up, took my breast in his mouth, and slid a hand between my legs. An absolutely delectable warmth coursed through me, and I felt waves of heat roll through my body. More than ready, I slid down his shaft and took him deep within me.
“Are you sure?” I asked when the grunt he released sounded more like pain than pleasure.
“No, it hurts like bloody hell, but if you quit, I might die.” He held my hips firmly and guided our rhythm.
A few moments later, we collapsed into each other. Finally dredging energy from somewhere, Liam opened the windows further, letting in the evening air and the twittering sounds of bugs and birds. Quietly, I rested on him. He cradled me, one hand stroking my bare bottom, the other brushing feathery strokes up my side. Both of us were content in the silence.
“Liam, let’s do it,” I said, breaking the silence a few minutes later.
“I think I need a few more minutes,” he responded, “and perhaps some ointment.”
“Not that!” I laughed, lightly thumping his chest. “I want to go to Saint-Tropez. You’re right. I think it’s time to take the bull by the horns and get this all sorted out. I’ll talk with Faith Clarkson when I get back to London.”
Taking my head in his hands, he gently kissed my lips. “Are you sure?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely!”
“Such language!” He pretended to be shocked.
“I blame it on the car.”
”I’ll have to say thank you to the salesman at the dealership.”
With a “plock” I unstuck myself from him and threw myself back into my seat. Flipping my hair over my shoulders, I rested against the car door with my feet in his lap. “Oh, so you’d like it if I talked dirty?” I inquired.
“I can’t imagine a man alive who wouldn’t.” He tugged up his pants and put the car seat in its usual position, giving me a lecherous grin.
Instead of meeting anyone for drinks or touring his old stomping grounds, we spent the rest of our time together alone, answering many forgotten questions and exploring each other’s thoughts on life, the world, and what we wanted in the future. Oddly, the trip to Saint-Tropez was completely forgotten.
Chapter Fifteen
RISING VERY EARLY on Monday morning to catch the 6:00 a.m. flight to London was painful. Liam gently nudged me awake and helped pack my overnight bag while I showered and got ready for work. Then we were off to the airport.
“In case I forgot to say thank you before, thank you.” I threw my arms around him, pressing my head against his chest.
“For what?” he asked, his face buried in my hair.
“For everything… The times you’ve come to London and had to get up at the crack of dawn to get to work, helping me to take life a whole lot less seriously, for encouraging me to go to Saint-Tropez. We’re going to have to do something about living in two different countries. I don’t care how close they are!”
The final announcement for boarding my flight was called. Giving me a thorough kiss, he said, “In due time!”
Three hours later, sitting at my desk, I stared at the computer screen, trying to figure out how to get from London to Saint-Tropez. While it was tempting to ask Hillary for help, I didn’t want to answer questions about whether I planned to confront Des Bannerman or not.
An hour later, I sent an email to Liam to see if it was possible for him to fly from London on the thirtieth of July and return on the third of August. Tiziana’s party included a weekend, which let me feel slightly less nervous about asking for the time off. I literally debated with myself as to whether or not I should add a day, in case I needed to get bailed out of jail. I decided to live on the edge and deal with things as they came. Over the prior few weeks, I had come to realize that the pre-emptive strategy I had felt compelled to take all these months was doing me far more harm than good. I was going to try the I-let-the-chips-fall-where-they-may attitude.
Instantly, Liam replied that his schedule was clear. So I booked two tickets on Ryan Air and forwarded the reservation information to him, including his ticket for arriving in London on Wednesday.
***
The trip was just three days away. I had two days to find a holiday wardrobe, tell Tiziana and Ted we were coming, and deal with work. Three days was more than enough time to work into a panic. Nerves were truly setting in when I received an email from Liam.
To: ‘Charlotte Young’
From: ‘Liam Molloy’
Subject: Breathe In and Out
Hey Gorgeous,
Don’t panic. Going to Saint-Tropez is smart. I’ll be there every step of the way. I love you.
Liam
Having gone this far, I sent an email to my assistant, Samantha, and to Human Resources, to notify them that I would be gone for three days. Settling into work for a minute here and there, I knew I wouldn’t be able to really focus until I heard from Faith Clarkson. She would immediately be informed of my request. Eventually, an email did arrive from Human Resources, stating that my request had been duly noted and approved.
Not long after, an email from Faith Clarkson arrived.
To: ‘Charlotte Young’
From: ‘Faith Clarkson’
CC: ‘Human Resources, London Branch’
Subject: Work-related travel
Charlotte,
I am assuming that this is somehow work-related. I will expect a full report on your return.
FC
Staring at the monitor for a few minutes, I decided to let Faith believe it was work-related. For eight months, I had worked day and night, almost seven days a week. I needed to go to Saint-Tropez and get resolution. If I had to delay the truth or even lie, I was willing to. “There are other jobs,” I told myself while sifting through a spreadsheet on the screen in front of me, hoping the worst-case scenario wouldn’t occur.
Realizing I wasn’t seeing the numbers in front of me, I quickly called Hillary and Taylor, leaving messages for both of them to meet me at Saint Hill Couture Boutique at 5:00 sharp. It would mean leaving work way too early, but, between the lack of focus and the little time I had to spare, I was prepared to walk out the door at a reasonable hour and come back afterwards if necessary.
Knowing I was leaving early made it a bit easier to commit myself to what remained of the day. Suddenly it was 4:30, and there was just enough time to call Liam.
“Hello?” came Liam’s voice across the distance.
“Hi, it’s me. I’m just calling so you can wish me luck.”
“Good luck! For what?”
“I’m going shopping for a few special items for this weekend. I want you to be the envy of every man there!”
“Ah! The ultimate revenge! Looking drop-dead gorgeous and making Des Bannerman regret his behavior for the rest of his life.” He laughed.
“Yes, well, that too!”
“I’m glad. That’s the perfect attitude. As for me, I get to see you naked, so I’m happy either way.” He laughed again. “Have a great night. While you’re out shopping, I’ll be explaining to an angry mob why they didn’t get to meet you over the weekend. I’m not sure who needs more luck, you or me.”
“Well, before they lynch you, let them know that I’ll be back very soon, and we can all have a drink then. Tell them we’ll buy! That should stop the hostilities.” I stuffed my oversized bag full of work files and my cell phone.
Just before hanging up, I promised to call to
say goodnight.
The phone rang the second I put it down. It was Liam. “Hey, really quickly! I meant to ask, what did Tiziana say when you told her we were coming?”
“I completely forgot to tell her. I’ll have to give her a call. I’ll let you know later. Thanks for the reminder.” I laughed at myself for having overlooked a pretty important issue.
Moments later, I ran for the elevator, calling instructions to my assistant as I left. “Tell anyone who calls that I’ll call back first thing tomorrow morning. I’m on my way out. See you tomorrow.” Samantha’s eyebrows shot straight up, since I had never left at such an early hour.
I took a cab to Saint Hill Couture Boutique and used the privacy to call Tiziana. The phone rang three times before her familiar voice purred hello.
“Tiziana, it’s me, Charlotte. I’m calling to let you know that Liam and I will be able to come this weekend after all. Well, if that still works for you.” Now that the plans were in motion and I was telling Tiziana, my voice was full of happiness.
There was the briefest, almost undetectable, pause before Tiziana enthusiastically responded, “Bella, of course! Now my party is perfect. I’m so happy! I’ll have a room prepared especially for you. Is Liam coming? We have so much to celebrate!”
“Yes, Liam is coming. Are you sure this boat is big enough for all of us?”
“The Sophia is eccellente. Hillary, Marian, and Kathleen are coming, and Ted will have a few friends, as well. What a wonderful party.” She sounded happy. “Oh, just a minute, darling. Let me tell Ted—he just walked in.”
There was muffled talking in the background, then Tiziana returned. “He’s very happy you and Liam can come after all, bella. He asked me to find out your flight arrangements.”
She took down our flight information and then happily chatted away about the upcoming festivities. There seemed to be ample fun-in-the-sun time and a few dressy events. I had never heard her happier and was deeply appreciative that she had found someone special.
“I’m sorry, but I need to go. The cab just arrived at the shops, and I have tons to buy. It will be so nice for us all to be together. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Bella, I’m thrilled too. Hillary has all the details. We’ll see you when you get there.”
I leaned over the seat and paid the driver before jumping out. Casting a quick glance through the shop windows, I sighed in relief that I was the first to arrive. I needed a few moments to compose my thoughts and some answers before Hillary and Taylor arrived.
Upon entering, a blonde goddess approached with just the right amount of obsequiousness and sincerity. “Welcome! I’ll give you a few minutes to take a look. Please let me know when you’re ready.”
Having no real idea where to shop or what was needed for the weekend, it was great to have a chance to look around. Just a moment later, I realized all the dresses were wedding dresses. No sooner had that dawned on me than the bell over the door jingled, and in rushed a moment of street noise.
Looking over my shoulder, I saw Hillary enter, giving me an expectant look. I realized instantly what she was thinking, and it was wrong! Had she called Tiziana? Something in Tiziana’s voice had sounded a bit off.
Just then, Taylor entered the store. She took one look around and the smile on her face built to epic proportions.
Walking over to them, in order not to be overheard by the blonde goddess, I whispered, “It isn’t what you think. Let’s get out of here.” Turning around, I thanked the confused employee profusely and whisked everyone out the door.
Once on the sidewalk and away from the door, Hillary pulled me by the elbow and forced us all to stop. “You disappear to Dublin for the weekend, leaving Taylor and me to wonder if something was happening, good or bad. Then you return and invite us to a wedding dress shop, only to tell us you’ve made a mistake? Charlotte! Did Liam propose? Are you having second thoughts?”
Seeing the confusion in their eyes, I felt a bit guilty and blurted out, “No, he didn’t propose. Liam and I are going to Saint-Tropez, and I need something to wear. I saw the shop the other day. It looked like the right place from the outside. Sorry.”
The two women looked at me, a bit stunned. “You’re going?” Taylor asked. “Will Des Bannerman be there?”
Standing aside to let some people pass, I answered, “I am and I don’t know.”
Hillary became the Queen of Belgravia and took control of the situation. “Well, then we need to get over to Sloane Street. There are some decent shops there. We only have a few hours, but we can probably get you sorted out with a few things. Honestly, Charlotte, leaving this to the last minute! You won’t be able to have anything fitted.” With that, she raised her hand elegantly and flagged down a cabbie.
A few hours later, we had toured the ins and outs of Alberta Ferretti, Anya Hindmarch, Marni, La Perla, and Fendi. Pushing away Hillary, who was holding up yet another cocktail dress for my inspection, I whined from exhaustion. “I’m not trying anything else on tonight. I’ll come back tomorrow, but, for now, I’m finished. I’m also starving. Let’s go find food.”
Taylor was with me. “I’m a native New Yorker, the child of a woman whose only concern is image. I’m a woman who has been and always will be a slave to fashion, but Hillary, you’re killing me. I’m done. I need food, a drink, and, most importantly, a place to sit down.”
Dripping with disappointment, Hillary handed the gown back to the salesperson, asking her to hold it until tomorrow and assuring her we would return.
Minutes later, the three of us were ensconced in comfy chairs in the Langtry at the Cadogan Hotel. I was famished to a point of desperation and ordered an array of finger foods for the table. It wasn’t until we had consumed quite a bit of food and finished one glass of wine with another on its way that civil discourse was approached.
“Can you believe that Lillie Langtry lived here? I’m not sure that even Tiziana could have held a candle to her,” Taylor remarked, taking in the marble fireplace, red velvet cushions, and chandeliers.
Finally returning to the evening’s earlier confusion, Hillary remarked, “I have to admit, of us all, Tiziana was the last one who I thought would get married. She seemed disinterested to me. She seems happy, though. Ted appears to be a pleasant man.”
“Well, I’ve only met her very briefly and have to admit that I’m surprised! She’s just so ‘va-va-voom.’ However, it isn’t like Ted is the average guy. Life will be plenty extraordinary, I’m sure,” Taylor added.
I chuckled and nodded in agreement. “Life for her does seem to exist on a different plane. Speaking of planes, Tiziana said we’re staying on a boat. I’m supposed to get the information from you,” I said to Hillary.
Raising a glass of chilled champagne to her lips, Hillary took a small sip before remarking, “Boat? Trust Tiziana to call it a boat. It’s 635 feet long. The Sophia has a helipad, eighteen cabins, a crew of thirty-six, and endless luxuries! I’ll give you the information when we get home.” She took another taste of champagne before asking, “But what finally convinced you?”
“Well, it was Liam, actually. He encouraged me and, after we talked about it some more, I decided to hell with it. The hard part was getting Faith Clarkson to agree to me taking time off. Of course, she’s expecting something in return. Anyway, I really need to come face to face with Mr. Bannerman, get things out in the open, and deal with it!” I raised a hand to stop Hillary from interrupting. “Don’t worry, I’m not going just to pick a fight. I’ll be as discreet and diplomatic as possible. But you have to admit, short of an event having something to do with Tiziana and Ted, I’m not likely to run into Des Bannerman. If I don’t do it now, I won’t be able to go to the wedding, and that feels terrible.” I averted my eyes, bright with tears. The platinum and gold sling-backs of my Prada sandals sparkled in the warm light.
Once under control, I drained my glass, and said, “Ladies, if you’re ready, it’s time to go home. I have a busy day of work and shopping ahea
d of me tomorrow. Are you available for another round? I still need one more dress and some beachwear.”
Grumbling disparaging comments, both Taylor and Hillary committed to more frantic shopping. “Don’t forget, you need an engagement present, too,” Hillary added as we exited the lovely Edwardian building. I made a silent note to myself that I wasn’t going to worry about that. What could they possibly need or want that I could find in the next twenty-four hours?
***
By the time Liam’s plane landed on Wednesday evening, I was seriously regretting the decision to go to Saint-Tropez. Very little real work had been accomplished and guilt had settled in.
Fortunately, Liam had a righteous speech prepared, which lit a fire under my sense of injustice. Soon, I was willing to face a firing squad and Faith Clarkson, for a shot at redemption.
“While I have no idea how much all your finery has cost, and please don’t tell me, I have to say you’ve made excellent choices.” He was closely examining a lacey lilac chemise I was wearing. “I can’t wait to see what else you’ve got in those bags.” He lifted the gown over my head and threw it onto a chair. A very satisfied and primal look crossed his face. “That’s my favorite outfit,” he added before lying down on top of me.
Chapter Sixteen
WE STAYED AT A HOTEL near Stansted Airport, since we had a very early departure. We woke up in time to nibble on toast and jam in bed. While we ate, I shared my excitement with Liam about the boat.
“It’s how long?” he asked, when I had described the eighteen cabins and helipad.
I bit into another piece of toast. “Hillary says 635 feet. It must be huge!”
“How much money does Ted have?” There was a bit of awe in his voice.
“I have no idea. All I know is that I’ve never looked forward to being on a boat this much.” I imagined myself lounging on the deck with a fruity cocktail in hand.
Prosecco & Paparazzi (The Passport Series Book 1) Page 23