Prosecco & Paparazzi (The Passport Series Book 1) (29 page)

BOOK: Prosecco & Paparazzi (The Passport Series Book 1)
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“Poor Dad, he was cursed with three girls who couldn’t remember a wrench from a hammer. He was thrilled when my sister, Grace, married her husband Paul. Paul loves the store. Their son, Stephen, loves the store almost as much, and he’s only seven. They have a daughter, as well. Isabella. She’s as girly as they come. Perhaps she’ll be as bad as the three of us were.”

“What about your other sister then? What does she do? Is she married?” Liam asked.

“What, don’t you know about her family?” Niamh asked, full of curiosity. “Haven’t you met them?”

“Oh, they live in Maine. We haven’t had a chance to go there yet. Someday soon, maybe. My other sister, Laura, lives in the same town as the rest of my family. I doubt she’ll ever get married. She’s been with someone a long time, but they seem happy enough with how things are.” I hoped that wouldn’t put them off. I started asking plenty of my own questions about Liam and his brothers.

Eamonn clearly enjoyed telling stories of his children’s adventurous youth. There seemed to be story after story of mischief and injury. Liam, growing more uncomfortable with each tale, intervened. “I don’t think we need to tell Charlotte
all
our family secrets, Dad. She’ll think we’re a bunch of hoodlums.”

“Well, they still mess about with each other,” Niamh added before heading into the kitchen to see about dinner. She brushed aside our offers of help, saying, “Not to worry, Eamonn will help. Come on, old man!” He happily followed behind her, listening to her instructions with half an ear.

“Your parents are really nice. I like them. I hope they don’t read anything into why you haven’t met my family. It didn’t seem like a good idea to tell them that we barely have enough time to have sex, let alone go out in public,” I said once they were out of earshot.

Liam got up and dragged his chair beside me. Leaning over, he looked down and said, “From here, I can see straight down your dress and appreciate a very sexy purple bra.”

Teasing, I said, “I take it that your boy parts aren’t in pain anymore?” I inhaled sharply as Liam quickly ran a finger over my nipple.

“I’m ready and able to satisfy your carnal needs, madam.” His hand ran up my thigh, under my dress. “I had told some friends we’d meet up with them for drinks tonight, but I don’t know if we’ll make it.”

Craning my neck for signs of life, I asked, “Can your parents see us?”

“We’ll hear them before we see them. It’s okay,” he whispered against my lips. “Besides, they know what I was like as a teenager.”

I didn’t have an opportunity to find out what that meant, because Eamonn called from the house, “Ready then? Dinner is served.”

I took a deep breath, rearranged my clothes, and asked, “Do I look okay?”

“Perfect.”

Dinner was a tasty affair. Liam’s parents went to quite a bit of effort, which really touched me. Afterwards, we chatted pleasantly for a while before Liam announced that it was time to go. Niamh and Eamonn walked us out.

“Don’t kill yourselves,” she said, looking at the flashy car with trepidation.

Chuckling, Liam hugged and kissed his mother and assured her all would be well. I gave Liam’s parents hugs goodbye and thanked them for the wonderful meal and lovely day.

After Liam helped me into the car and climbed in himself, I said, “Your parents are very nice people.” I waved goodbye to them.

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.

BOOK: Prosecco & Paparazzi (The Passport Series Book 1)
4.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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