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8
Isla
"Why did I agree to this?" I moan. I glance sideways at the asshole who hasn’t spoken a word to me since I slid into the passenger seat of his car. He picked me up late this afternoon so he could drive me to my mom’s home in Lymington. He hasn’t spoken a word to me since. Instead, he tuned the radio station to a news channel. Probably wants to keep track of his investments, I guess. I decided not to speak a word to him either. I focused on answering the many emails and text messages I’d received from the various vendors. I still have a wedding to organize.
Luckily, the press hasn’t picked up on the change of brides, but that could change at any time. We need to be prepared, and we haven’t yet discussed the strategy of how we're going to break the news to the press. To be honest, I’ve been putting it off. As long as we don’t tell the press, it’s not real, right? But we’re going to tell my mother first and...
Oh, god, I’m so not looking forward to that. I’ve tried not to say a word either since we left, but that was nearly two hours ago. As we turn off the highway toward the city, my pulse begins to race. Sweat beads my palms.
"Did you hear me?" I huff.
Liam keeps his gaze trained forward as he flips on the indicator. The muscles of his forearms flex, and a pulse throbs to life between my legs. The sluttiest thing a man can do is have the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show off those veined forearms—the way Liam has his right now. I squeeze my thighs together. Why do I find everything about this man so sexy? His fingers are thick and end in blunt fingernails, and the tendons under his skin flex as he steers the car. My mouth dries. How annoying. I don’t find him hot. Not at all.
"Liam, I don’t think this is a good idea," I repeat.
He shoots me a glance from the corner of his eye. "So you’ve said for the hundredth time," he murmurs.
"Well, now I’m saying for the one-hundred and first time that this is all going to go pear-shaped."
"You heard what my mother said. She thinks it’s a good idea to have both her and your mom speak to the press."
I blow out a breath. "And you do whatever your mother tells you, is that it?"
He purses his lips. "I don’t like to say no to her if I can help it, and you have to admit, it’s a great idea to have both your mum and my mum issue a joint statement."
It’s not a bad idea at all. Nothing like getting mothers involved to make the situation seem authentic. But I don’t say that.
Instead, I say, "I still haven’t managed to speak to Lila. I’ve left her messages, but she’s not returning my calls. Maybe she’s upset with me?"
"Or maybe she wants some time to figure out what she wants to do with her life?"
I scowl. "Is that you actually being reasonable?"
He raises a shoulder. "I am always reasonable."
"That’s why you want me to take you to meet my mother, with your mother following us in her car?" I cover my face with my fingers. "Oh, I don’t have a good feeling about this at all."
"Stop being so dramatic. Everything’s going to be fine."
He turns into the lane where my parents live. "Ohgodohgodohgod." I draw in a breath and my lungs burn. Try to breathe and my throat closes. Black flickers at the corners of my vision.
He brings the car to a stop and turns to me. "You okay?"
I shake my head.
He reaches over, places his hand between my shoulders and applies pressure. "Put your head between your legs."
I allow him to push me forward, then lower my head. I close my eyes and allow the oxygen to flood my lungs. Some of the darkness recedes.
"Better?" he asks in a low voice.
When I nod, he rubs his hand over my back in slow circles. The warmth from his fingertips sinks into my blood. The band around my chest loosens. He continues to run his fingers down my spine gently. At some point, the tempo of his movements changes. His strokes grow more languorous. He drags his fingertips down my neck and my nipples tighten. A moan slips from my lips. I lengthen my spine, inviting him to stroke me down my back again, and he complies. From my neck to my lower back and again. A shiver grips me. My core tightens.
I sit up at once, and he pulls his hand away. The atmosphere in the car is electric. My limbs tremble. I know he’s staring at me, but no way, am I going to meet his gaze. "Thanks." I clear my throat, then push open the door and step outside. A second later I hear his door slam shut. Then he rounds the front of the car and draws abreast.
"Should we wait for your mother or—"
"Why don’t we go in?" He takes my elbow. "I’m sure she’s not far behind."
