Page 45 of Masquerade

A butterfly pinned to a board couldn’t have squirmed more than he did. While Selina had soured his views, he should know better than to mouth generalisations to a woman who earned a living testing whether claims were based on facts or fake news.

“I get romance, Kate. However, it’s not the basis for all relationships. My parents had it. What about yours?”

“A partnership. Equal professionals.” She was searching for the right words. “Sometimes it was hard to distinguish between what was performance and what was real.”

“Are they better together?”

She opened the passenger door, her brows drawn together in a frown. “They’d say so.”

“Does writing serious literature intimidate romance?” He dumped the groceries on the back seat.

“My father’s adultery put a downer on romance.” She made a face across the top of the car.

“Yet they’re still together.”

“My mother gave him an ultimatum. He chose her. They’re devoted to each other now.” She looked like a little girl lost. “I guess I looked for consistency, for loyalty.” She paused. “For whispers and giggles, for looks across a crowded room and for silliness.”

“Where’d you go for silliness as a child?” Once upon a time in a far-away land, Liam had assumed loyalty was automatic between lovers.

“A girlfriend’s house.” Her eyes lit with sudden joy, and the cloud shadowing her thoughts lifted. She valued small acts of foolishness, gathering them into a bouquet of love tokens. She slid into the car. Had her parents’ pressure to be the child they wanted squeezed out joy?

“What about pets?” He dropped into the driver’s seat.

“Mum’s allergic to animal hair. You?”

“There were lots on the farm. Working animals. Not that long after we arrived in Newcastle, I found a dog. Badly beaten and hugging the side of a back alley—hugging the shadows as if that offered safety. I spent half an hour stretched full length on the road, whispering promises of food and warmth and love.” Liam settled behind the steering wheel. “He finally edged towards me. Stopping and whimpering every few feet, ready to run if I raised a hand to him.” He smiled at the memory. “His melted-chocolate eyes sucked me in, and he kept coming.”

“Dogs—romance—the picture’s becoming clearer.” She pointed a finger at him.

“Dogs have kept many a friendless person warm and comforted on a cold night.” Liam was tired of being alone. Of being estranged from Niall. He’d never had to be alone until he’d made the choice to keep the extent of his father’s debts secret. Kate made him ache with a different kind of loneliness. Also self-imposed but stemming from betrayal rather than a desire to protect.

“What did you call the dog?”

“Lucky.” Liam programmed the apartment’s address into his phone. “Niall called him Alleycat. He only answered to that.”

She giggled, a pure sound shooting straight to his lonely soul.

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The drive to the three-storey block took ten minutes. Liam hauled his rucksack and her duffel up the stairs. She followed with the grocery supplies.

“Are you okay?” he called over his shoulder when he reached the top floor. She’d been silent on the short drive. Maybe, like him, she was considering the contradictions between his denial of romance and his enthusiasm when they kissed. Holy hell, she’d be sleeping in the bedroom next door, a real and present temptation.

“I can handle three flights of stairs.” She reached around him to unlock the door and push it wide.

“Nice.” He stepped inside.

The apartment was a large rectangle occupying the whole floor. The front door opened directly into the living space. The kitchen was to his right, separated from a dining table and chairs by a benchtop. Beyond the table setting was an open living area, which stretched towards the balcony and, beyond that, the river. Comfortably furnished, clean, not super fancy, and Liam guessed the bedrooms were along a corridor to their left.

Abandoning the bags he was carrying, Liam headed towards the glass doors. The river acted as a beacon guiding him through unfamiliar terrain. With the doors unlocked, he stepped outside and absorbed the welcome of the deep, slow-moving water. He inhaled its earthy notes and remembered plunging from the bridge, a childhood ritual to mark the arrival of spring. The sky was leaching blue as dusk approached, while a couple strolled hand in hand along a riverside path, triggering other memories. The scent of roasting meat and onions teased him on the soft breeze, and he traced it to a nearby hotel.

“Nice,” she repeated, coming up beside him.

“Based on my research, you get to choose between a bedroom with an en-suite bathroom or a bedroom with a balcony view.”

“The balcony,” she said, as coolly as she’d selected her punnet of berries. “I get the main bathroom to myself anyway.” She backtracked to collect her bag and head for her chosen space.

“By the way.” He made the decision to call out to her rather than follow her up the corridor like Alleycat.

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