Page 34 of Masquerade

“How do you know?”

It was in his voice. A warmer, more relaxed tone, a contentment, but Kate’s relationship with Liam wasn’t close enough to tell him he sounded happy because he’d talked to his brother.

“You sound more relaxed.” Although she could list a dozen words other than relaxed, from affable and amenable to genial and unreserved right down to more approachable—not the result of a single conversation. Liam had made peace with his brother, and the knowledge contented her. “Call it a twin thing.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You’re more settled in your skin somehow.”

“That’s unscientific.” He grinned—and those contented-type words swirled in her mind again. His grin was a relaxed, amenable, look-at-approachable-me beam creating fascinating wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Anything you want to clear up before Fran and George return?”

I want to talk more about you, and what makes you tick.

Admitting her curiosity would lead in a direction she wasn’t prepared to go. But his peacemaking with his brother reminded her what healing looked and felt like; an unravelling of your bones and sinews and muscles. It un-strangled your voice and gentled your smile. Tonight’s informal meal and Liam’s rumbled invitation to ask him anything, made her metaphorically lay down her arms.

That’s dressing up a lie. Liam had muttered his disdain after their kiss in the library.

What motivates a man who has the self-assurance to share a fantasy with me in the library, then pretend nothing has happened?

A minor character—an unreconstructed chauvinist—in her second book was begging to be made whole in her third. Lies mattered to him too and might be the key to turning him into the perfect romantic hero in book three. A hero a woman could imagine screwing her silly until death do us part, and who’d have her back in every battle that counted. Kate took another tiny sip of her drink, wanting to extend into infinity the pleasure of the syrupy sweetness rolling over her tongue.

He followed her movement with his gaze; a puppy told to wait for his treat. The sexual tension humming between them rose from a whisper to a steady buzz. A mutual inconvenience.

“Let’s say our state politician is corrupt, influenced the decision on the hospital location, then benefitted financially.” She’d use the case to uncover more of Liam’s thinking.

“A hypothetical, right? Because we don’t have any evidence.”

She nodded.

“I’m more interested in whether he sought public office intending to exploit his position, or suddenly saw an opportunity and took it?” Liam said.

“Which is worse?” Kate slid off a shoe to deal with a persistent itch, then satisfied, slid her foot back into her shoe and settled back to chat.

His attention remained fixed on her now covered foot, the knuckles of the hand holding his drink turning white. Remembering the cheeky plum she’d painted her toenails, she kept her gaze at his chest level. One second of silence stretched to two, and she released the breath she’d been holding.

“For me, the seeking of public office intending to corrupt.” He found his voice. “That involves lying to a lot of people along the food chain, from the selectors who nominated him to the ordinary people who voted for him.” He leaned back in his armchair, one ankle crossed over the other knee, open to her and the conversation. “A slow burn.”

“What would you do if he was your colleague?”

“If he’s an opportunist, I’d throw the book at him. If his intention was self-enrichment from the beginning, I’d want a major review of my political party’s processes—make it clear to the public he doesn’t represent the party’s values.” His insistence on transparency was another puzzle piece of his character. “It’s a misuse of power.”

“So, you’d make his actions public?” She’d been afraid to make Andrew’s actions public. Using her confidences to gaslight her was another misuse of power.

“It’s the sort of thing that gets out anyway.” He pushed his fingers through his hair, mussing it, which added to his appeal. “If you don’t, you undermine trust in the whole political process. I’d be suspect by association.”

“Is that what counts? Your good name?” She was enthralled by how he inclined his head, how his shirt stretched across his chest when he raised a hand to make a point, how his long, elegant fingers held his glass.

“Credibility in most fields is hard won. And yeah, I take mine seriously.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’d expect questions about how much I knew and when. Politics is a large playing field, and democracy suffers whether he’s an opportunist or a psychopath. If the people don’t trust their government, we’re all damaged.” He didn’t evade her questions, emboldening her to ask more.

“Wouldn’t you be tempted to dismiss him as an opportunist, just one bad apple?” she asked, book plotting forgotten in her fascination with his personal ethics.

“That’s a dangerous self-delusion.” He grimaced in distaste. “Although we could be up against that here. The decision on the hospital location is defensible. I’d want to satisfy myself his colleagues weren’t turning a blind eye.” He was war-gaming their project, whereas Kate was caught by the music of his voice and the ebb and flow of ideas. Unlike Andrew and too many men she’d known, life wasn’t all about him.

Swirling the glass in her hand, Kate watched the last of the viscous liquid cling to the sides. “Ready for another one?”

“Where are we heading?”

George popped his head around the door. “Sorry to interrupt. Seems the most suitable accommodation available, with space to hold a meeting but also some personal privacy, is a three-bedroom, serviced apartment at Montveau. Is that okay with you two?”

“Fine,” Liam answered, his gaze steady on her.

“Fine,” she repeated, her stomach turning backflips with acrobatic ease. She’d considered shared accommodation as an option in a distant, this-isn’t-happening-to-me way. A sensible option. But that was before she’d discovered Liam was fascinating, with layers of mystery to uncover before she reached bedrock. Any writer would be interested in such a character; it wasn’t personal.

---