had ever exposed her the way Liam once had—with just one look.
‘Victoria.’
She fixedly stared at the ink-splodged mess she’d made on the card, aware he’d stopped a few feet from her chair.
He cleared his throat. ‘Long time, no see.’
She heard the smile. He’d always spoken with that easy-as smile. That innate confidence had been part of what had drawn her to him. The kind of confidence she’d never had. She’d been jealous of his ‘I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-you-all-think’ attitude too, because she’d never had that.
Focused, hungry, fascinating. Liam had an edge Victoria hadn’t encountered before or since. Tall, strong, determined to do what he wanted, he’d sliced through any opposition.
Until Oliver. And her.
Unable to resist, she chanced a glance back at him. That element of danger? It was still there—now lethal. Because, despite that smile, his eyes weren’t just focused and relentless, they were hard.
There was no point clearing her throat. It wasn’t going to work. Nothing in her body—especially not her brain— was working this second. Or the next.
‘How’ve you been?’ he asked.
Oh, he had to be kidding. Five years since she’d last seen him, five years since he’d interrupted her own wedding proposal and here he was five days from his wedding and he was greeting her like some old schoolmate?
Then again, how else to handle it?
She looked at the blank cards on the desk, glad she’d packed the others away. Aurelie hadn’t wanted him to see them.
Aurelie. Liam.
Aurelie Broussard was marrying Liam Wilson.
Liam was the father of Aurelie’s baby.
Liam was getting married.
Why was it so hard to compute?
She’d once had the chance to say yes to Liam. Not to marriage but to something. She hadn’t. She’d said yes to someone else and life had moved on for all of them. And she was okay with that, wasn’t she?
Yes.
She straightened, ignoring the churning riot of recollections and emotions inside. She was happy. And she’d act like it.
‘Fine, thanks.’ Score. Her voice sounded almost normal. ‘How are you?’
‘Stunned to see you.’
Hardly stunned. He was still standing, tall and fit in those blue jeans and soft leather boatshoes and an eye-wateringly bright white tee with seams that had to cling hard to contain his broad shoulders. It ought to be impossible, but the guy was more gorgeous than he’d been back then. But what really stunned her was the glint in his eyes. He blatantly stared—at her hair, over her face, seeming to take in each feature—lingering on her mouth and then dropping below, taking in her figure. Was he sizing her up as he had that very first time they’d met? Back then it had been excusable—he’d not known who she was. But now?
Victoria tensed beneath his inspection, willing her body not to let the remnants of that old attraction show. Because that was all it was, like muscle memory—an imprint of an old infatuation. Not real. Certainly not worse. It couldn’t be.
‘It’s been a long time,’ he said. ‘And, as impossible as I’d have thought it, you’re even more beautiful now.’
Her breath quickened as her body absorbed his words— words that mirrored her thoughts of him. Her system responded so inappropriately. Heat shot everywhere—most of all deep and low in her belly.
Her brain clicked more slowly, taking too long to realise that it was meaningless, just his usual flirt talk. That was all it had ever been. Talk. But he had no right to tease her. Not that she could put him in his place the way she wanted to. Not when it was his fiancée she was working for. No, she was going to remain calm and professional and brush him off politely.
‘You’re looking good too,’ she said crisply. She even smiled. She could handle this unfortunate coincidence and she could handle him. Of course she could.
He leaned against the table right next to where she sat. Her feet tingled, her legs itched. But she wasn’t running, not showing how badly he got to her. She knew he was playing. He’d played with her before. She remembered that exact roguish expression from the first night she’d met him in the guest bathroom at Oliver’s parents’ place. Then, as now, Liam looked like a wicked cat who’d just spied a juicy mouse and he was going to have fun devouring it ever so slowly.
Victoria Rutherford was never going to be a mouse again.
‘Thank you,’ he drawled.
Her eyes narrowed as anger seeped through her polite armour. He really was the same game player? After all this time? Even now he was about to get married?
‘Victoria,’ he murmured softly, as he’d once murmured her name before. Now, as she had then, she steeled her heart.
How could she be this affected again by his mere presence?
Victoria froze as he moved, leaning across her—far, far too close. She held her breath but it was futile. He still smelt of ocean spray, sunshine and freedom. A heady, intoxicating mix that had once made her almost crazy high. The ultimate, forbidden temptation. Her boyfriend’s best friend.
As her client’s fiancé, he was even more forbidden now. So her suddenly over-excited hormones could just go back into dormant mode. Liam Wilson—even if he was single—would never be hers.
‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked—totally mouse— as he came closer still.
His gaze didn’t leave hers; his mouth curved as he moved into her space. She was transfixed by that intense, challenging look. And he was so close now, she could see the individual, unfairly long lashes that framed his dangerously warm eyes.
‘Mind if I take this?’ He pulled the pen out of her clenched fingers with a sharp tug. ‘It’s looking a little like a weapon there. You stabbed me in the heart once. I’m not chancing it again.’
She gaped. As if she’d hurt him? Quite the reverse. He’d hurt her. And Oliver. He’d thrown a spanner between them—damaging the bond that was never fixed quite right after. But he didn’t need to know how much he’d mattered.
‘I hurt you?’ She pulled herself together and faked a light laugh. ‘No woman has ever hurt you.’
A single eyebrow lifted. ‘You think?’ He shook his head. ‘Aren’t I as vulnerable as anyone else?’
‘No,’ Victoria said bluntly.
‘Come on,’ he drawled. ‘You know exactly how human I am,’ he purred.
‘Are you hitting on me?’ she whispered—utterly amazed—and aghast. ‘Seriously?’
When his seven-months-pregnant fiancée was in the building and he was
