Chapter 196 Chapter 196 Scare Me
“You’re staring,” he murmured.
“You’re very pretty.”
He laughed softly, the sound low in his chest. “Pretty?”
“Don’t ruin the moment.”
“I score goals in front of eighty thousand people and somehow this is the most nervous I’ve ever been.”
That confession pulled a smile from me. “You didn’t seem nervous.”
“Oh baby, I was losing my fucking mind.”
His fingers brushed my jaw, slower now, almost reverent. For an entire year this man had pursued me with impossible patience. Weekly flights. Long phone calls that lasted until sunrise more than a few times. Dinners in different cities. Stolen weekends. Promises whispered against my skin that sounded too good to trust.
And through all of it, he waited.
Not because he had to.
Because he wanted to.
That was the part I still didn’t fully understand.
Liam Devereux could have any woman he wanted. Models. Actresses. Girls barely old enough to drink throwing themselves at him outside stadiums. Yet every single night he called me. Me with my chaotic life and three children and trust issues big enough to build walls around entire cities.
I traced one of the tattoos along his ribs. “You’re quieter than usual.”
“That’s because if I start talking right now, I’m probably going to say something insane.”
I laughed softly. “Like what?”
His green eyes locked on mine.
“Like I’ve thought about this every single night for a year.”
Heat crept up my throat instantly.
Liam noticed and grinned. “There she is.”
“Shut up.”
“You blush when you’re overwhelmed.”
“I do not.”
“You do. Right here.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “And it’s fucking adorable.”
I rolled my eyes but my body betrayed me completely, melting closer against him anyway.
Outside the bedroom, I could hear faint music playing from somewhere deeper in the suite. Earlier we had danced in the kitchen while rolling pizza dough on a flour covered kitchen island, Liam barefoot, pulling me against him while singing terribly in French just to make me laugh.
No one had ever worked this hard to make me smile before.
Not consistently.
Not without wanting something in return immediately.
“You know what your problem is?” I asked quietly.
“Hm?”
“You make it very difficult to keep my walls up.”
“Good.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That wasn’t a compliment.”
“It is to me.”
He shifted, pulling me against his chest until my head rested over his heartbeat. Strong. Steady. His fingers moved lazily up and down my bare spine.
For the first time in years, I didn’t feel like someone’s responsibility.
Not a wife.
Not a mother.
Not a problem to solve.
Just a woman being wanted exactly as she was.
The realization terrified me.
Liam must have felt the shift in me because his hand stilled. “Hey.”
I tilted my head up slightly.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Elena.”
The way he said my name always sounded dangerous. Too soft for a man built like violence and headlines.
I sighed quietly. “I’m just waiting.”
“For what?”
“For this to stop feeling real.”
Something flickered across his face then. Not irritation. Hurt.
He leaned back enough to look directly at me. “You still think this is temporary?”
“I think men like you don’t settle down.”
“Men like me.” He repeated it carefully.
“You know what I mean.”
“Say it.”
I hesitated.
“Playboys,” I admitted quietly. “Men who always need the next beautiful thing.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
Then, to my surprise, he laughed once under his breath. Not amused. More like disbelief.
“Elena, do you know how many women I’ve ignored this year?”
I blinked.
“I had a supermodel throw herself into my lap in Milan.”
“That sounds traumatic.”
He smirked briefly. “I left because you called.”
My chest tightened.
“I’ve spent an entire year flying across countries for dinners that ended with you kissing my cheek and sending me home.”
“That’s not true every time.”
“Ninety percent of the time.”
I laughed despite myself.
Liam’s expression softened again. “You think this is casual to me?”
His hand slid over my waist possessively.
“I know what people say about me. I know exactly what my reputation is.” His voice lowered. “But none of those women were ever you.”
The intensity in his eyes made my stomach flip.
“I don’t know how to do this slowly,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to want someone halfway. With you it’s…” He exhaled sharply. “Fuck, it’s everything.”
My heart stumbled painfully against my ribs.
No man had ever looked at me like this after sex.
Desired before? Yes.
Obsessed physically? Absolutely.
But this?
This felt scary in an entirely different way.
Because Liam saw me.
Every complicated piece.
And instead of running, he stayed.
“I’m scared of you,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“Why?”
“Because you make me happy.”
For a second neither of us spoke.
Then Liam pulled me closer again, kissing the top of my head.
“You know what’s really unfair?” he murmured.
“What?”
“I waited a whole year to get you into your bed and now I’m already thinking about keeping you here forever.”
I laughed softly against his chest, but tears burned unexpectedly behind my eyes.
He noticed instantly.
“Hey,” he said gently, lifting my chin. “None of that.”
“You’re very sweet after sex for someone with your reputation.”
“That’s because I’m trying not to scare you.”
“Too late.”
His grin returned slowly, wicked and warm all at once.
“Good,” he whispered before kissing me again.
“Now I’m really going to scare you. Remind me to thank Trevor for showing me that painting and letting me tag along to his show.”
“When am I supposed to remind you?”
“On our wedding day,” he says with a soft grin.
The really scary thing is that his words don’t scare me at all. As if I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I got married. I would marry Liam in a heartbeat, and that is where the true danger lies. He got past my walls and defenses like many men before him, sure, but he feels different because he moved slowly and cautiously. Peeling me apart layer by layer until I lay beside him completely bare.
“How scared are you right now?” he asks, laughing softly.
“Not one bit.”