I see Liam disappear behind a tall wood door. It looks thick and old and fortified, like many of the downstairs doors. When I reach it, I find it locked.

I look over my shoulder, my heart pounding in my ears. One of Liam’s classmates from high school is here, and he was telling me how he and Liam used to talk about me. How they wanted to meet me after watching the show. He offered me a glass of wine and when I didn’t want any, I saw his eyes go down to my stomach.

Ugh.

I’ve only been downstairs a little shy of an hour, but I’m exhausted. My stomach hurts a little, even though I’ve sneaked a few ginger snaps from my purse. I just want to go to sleep.

Maybe it was a mistake to agree to the party. It could be going on for many more hours. Maybe I can find a nice armchair and curl up there, and Liam won’t even mind. I wonder if he’s drunk. I wonder how hard he actually parties.

I knock three times, softly. I hear heavy footfall, then the door opens about a half foot and I see his wary face. His eyes soften once they meet mine.

“Lucy.”

“It’s me. I got tired, and I saw you come in here.”

The door opens a little more. “Come in.”

He gives me a small smile before returning to the massive, throne-like chair behind his desk. He gestures to an armchair set in front of it.

“Have a seat, Miss Rhodes.”

He sinks into his chair. “How can I help you?”

I drop into the arm chair. “I’ve lost my edge. I’m so sleepy.” I stifle a yawn.

“You want to go to bed? I’m kind of tired of this myself.” His face looks tight. He looks unhappy, I realize.

“Not having a good time?”

He rubs his forehead. “Just a lot to deal with.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I don’t like having people here. Something always winds up missing, no matter how many plain-clothes guards are in the crowd. If there’s a pariah anywhere around, you’ll find them here.”

“I’m surprised you have parties here at all.”

“I don’t. It’s Heath.”

“Does he have the ability to do that?”

“I wouldn’t ever shoot the idea down.”

He still looks unhappy. I just want to kiss those pouty lips. I walk around the desk and run my hand over the chair. “This thing is huge.” I drop down into his lap and smell alcohol. I run my hand over the light beard on his cheeks. I feel his chest rise and fall with a deep breath. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He shuts his eyes.

I kiss his chin. “Maybe we should run away together.”

“Want to spend the night on the boat?”

“I know how much work that is. Boats are a lot of work. Maybe we should pitch a tent somewhere. Do you have one?”

He laughs. “A tent?”

“Yeah. I’ve been living in Colorado, remember? Tents are something everybody has.”

His mouth curls slowly up. “You want to spend the night in a tent?”

“I do.”

“I’ve got a tent.”

“Do you?” I can’t help running my hand between his legs, where there is a definitely a tent.

“Mm.” His eyes shut.

“I want to see this tent. I want to go inside it and then see what’s inside this tent.” I fondle him, and Liam groans. “Christ, Lucy.”

When his eyes peek up at mine, I grin. “You like it.”

“Yeah.”

He sets me on my feet and stands up. “Let’s get going,” he smiles. He laughs, hands on my shoulders, looking down at his pants, which are very much still tented. “Tell me something terrible, Lucy.”

The first thing that comes to mind, I push aside. I glance around the room.

“There’s a moose head on your wall. A moose that was killed, his head was hollowed out and stuffed, and now his decaying head is on your wall.”

He laughs, turning to look at said head. “I guess that’s true.”

“Did you kill him? Are you the murderer, Liamie?” I slap his cheek lightly.

“Did you just call me Liamie?”

I shrug. “It works.”

His hand catches mine. “You’re a strange one, Lucy Rhodes.”

“I know.” I smile. He smiles back. I look down at him.

“Quit looking. That just makes it worse.”

“That moose probably had a wife, you know.” After a few more seconds, Liam laughs again and shakes his head, and we’re ready to go.

We pass a bunch of people on the route upstairs, and Liam is polite and friendly to all of them. He introduces me a time or two, and other times, people know who I am.

Upstairs, he uses the intercom to tell someone to get the camping stuff ready for us and put it in the Jeep. Then he calls the kitchen, asking for a basket of food and a case of bottled water, also to be put in the Jeep.

“Do you want to ride, though?” he says when he turns toward me. “I can have the Jeep driven.”

“Hmmmm. Horses at night could be fun.”

He calls back and relays that, then has the horses saddled.

I can’t help laughing.

“What?” he asks, thumping me.

“It’s a hard life, coordinating so many things.”

He ruffles my hair, and I screech. “I’m all pretty. Don’t mess me up!”

“I couldn’t mess you up if I tried.”

We kiss for a few long, hot moments, where my heart races and blood rushes through my body. I wrap my arms around him.

“God. I’m getting hooked on this.”

“Me too,” he says against my hair. He hugs me tightly. “Want to go get changed?”

“Yeah. Is it cold out?”

“Maybe a little. Wear a jacket, or I’ll get you one.”

I return to his room half an hour later, dressed in riding boots, suede riding pants, and a plum-colored wool Burberry cloak that seems perfect for a nighttime horseback ride.

He grins as soon as he sees me. He’s got on old-looking, faded jeans with a hole in one knee, hiking boots, and a thick, gray sweater.

He grabs his pack and mine, and I walk out of his room, starting down the stairs. He pulls me another way.

“We’ll take the stairs for the help. When I was little, we used to call them the ‘help me’ stairs, because they’re so steep.”

We go outside, where people are mingling on the lawn. We cut into the shadows, into a large garden, then veer through a grove, toward the stables.

“Why are they so far from the castle? Is it a form of fire protection?”

“It is.”

I watch him pack Pegasus, then we both get on and we are riding in the moonlight, over green, green grass, the smell of the sea in my nose, a gentle wind on my cheeks.

“This is amazing!”

He takes the lead, and I follow, through a forest. Then we’re at the edge of a large field, and there’s a stream winding through it.

I see something shiny in the distance and realize it’s the car.

“Oh, wow. Who drove it here?”

“One of the staff. He’s going to ride one of the horses back.”

“How will we get back?”

“On the other horse.” He smiles. “Don’t want to ride rump?”

“On the horse’s butt? No way!”

He laughs, and we ride up to where the tent is already assembled. He hands off his own horse, but the guy won’t take it. He waves and walks off into the night. Liam has to stalk after him and convince him to get on the horse.

I look up at the stars. “This is seriously incredible.”

“I’ve always liked the outdoors.”

“Did you get to do a lot of that stuff growing up?”

“Some. Lots of group things.”

“At school?”

He nods.

“So you weren’t in Gael that much the last ten years.”

“Not really, no.”

“That seems kind of sad.”

“Does it?” He unzips the tent’s top. “What about you? You spent your childhood outdoors, right?”

“Yeah. It was pretty awesome. I always had a horse, and there were woods all around our house. We all hunted deer with bows and fished in the ponds. You’ve seen it all on TV.”

“Your family was happy?” he asks.

I can read between the lines; he’s asking me if it’s real, as opposed to made-for-TV. I nod. “Pretty happy. My parents had a rough spot or two, but we were always happy. I’d say they’re very happy now. My dad gets tired of the show sometimes. My mom, too, honestly. I don’t think they’ll do it a whole lot longer. But it’s been an experience.”

Liam pulls the tent flap open, and we crawl inside onto the sleeping bags. Liam fires up a lantern, and I stretch out on my back, looking at the ink black sky and all the sparkling stars.

Tell him, Lucy.

I shut my eyes. They’re still shut when I feel his hand playing at the hemline of my shirt. His fingers slip inside, cold against my warm belly. I “brrr” and fold myself around his arm to warm his fingertips against my skin.

“Too cold?” He chuckles.

“Hell yes.”

I rub my hands over his, through the fabric of my shirt, and then he’s inching downward, fingers walking to the top of my pants. I lie there, very still, as he unbuttons them.

I shouldn’t—I know that—but all I really think is: this is the last time, before I tell him. This is the last time, and I want it.

Liam lies on his side, watching my face as his long fingers stroke me through my silk panties. I can’t help lifting my hips, which is his cue to peel back the elastic waist and delve inside. He’s toying with me very lightly, stroking when I need him to plunge. It makes me moan. After a few times of his fingertip skating around my clit, I buck my hips and grab his wrist.

“Liam…”

He laughs, a low, dark sound. “Yes?” he says as he teases me everywhere but there.

“Inside,” I manage.

He parts my lips and delves down, slowly, gently, teasing where I’m slick and need him most.

“Please…”

“You want me inside?”

I push up against him, groaning.

“I want in, too, Lucy.” He draws his hand out of my underwear and moves atop me. I shimmy beneath him, working my pants and panties off. And then he’s rubbing against me; he’s teasing me.

“Oh God…”

His head skates up and down my throbbing slit, pushing lightly when he reaches my entrance, but not enough to penetrate. I push against him.

“Please…”

He drags himself up, rubbing his head on my clit until I’m groaning, shaking.

“I want you inside me. Please…”

He kisses my clit with his head for a few more minutes, groaning just like I am. Then he moves back down. He props himself up with one hand; with the other, he strokes my neck.

“Are you sure?” His voice is barely louder than a whisper.

“Yes—please.” I grab his nape and pull him down on me. Liam kisses my breasts, then he rises up and crawls back down me. I can feel him reach for something, see the glimmer of the moonlight on the condom wrapper, hear the soft pop as he puts it on.

Then he’s there again, aligned with me. Our eyes meet and we thrust at the same time, then groan together.

“Jesus, Lucy…”

I can feel his pleasure in the way his body tautens and quivers. He just holds there for the longest moment, his fingertips gripping my shirt sleeve as his eyes shut and I feel him throb inside me.

I tighten around him, and he makes a low, hoarse sound—and then he’s moving. Slowly out and hard back in, out then in, filling me up then leaving me bereft and arching.

All I know is overwhelming pleasure, and the feeling of his strong arms underneath my grasping hands. He moves inside me like we both were born to be joined like this, drawing moans and gasps and grunts from me like music, till I’m shaking and he’s breathing loudly and his thumb is on my clit and then I’m coming.

Liam thumps hard inside me, his elbow bending so he’s half collapsing on my chest as his cock swells to fill me and his muscles quiver and he pants.

“Lucy…dear Christ.”

His forehead rocks against my ribs. He drops a kiss on my arm, through my sleeve—and then he’s pulling out. I curl over on my side, surprised to find that there are tears in my eyes. I’m not even sure why.

Minutes later, I hear zipping—or unzipping—and he’s drawing covers over me; he’s settling beside me, curling around me.

He pulls me close and kisses my cheek. “Thank you.”

“Thank you too,” I tell him sleepily.

“You are amazing.”

I wake up in the middle of the night to find him wrapped around me. He’s warm—really warm—which is good because the air is cold. I snuggle up against him and pull him to me, and he wraps his arms around me. His head ends up right against my stomach, and I know I’m ready.

He deserves the truth.

Tomorrow morning.