Escaping Reality

peeks from room service. I plan to
    keep you for myself.” He sets me aside and heads toward the other room.
    I stare after him. He plans to keep me for himself. I fight the urge to
    call him back and make him seal those words with a promise.

Chapter Fourteen

    Fifteen minutes later, I sit at a table on the balcony, drinking coffee
    and sampling an enormous amount of food Liam ordered to be sure I had
    something I liked to eat. What I like is him bare-chested and relaxed in his
    pajama bottoms, with sexy, mussed-up morning hair. And me, in his shirt,
    with his scent teasing my nostrils. I have never worn a man’s shirt and that
    somehow makes wearing his shirt all the more intimate.
    I pluck a grape from a basket with a variety of fruits and laugh as he
    argues his claim that the Fast & Furious movies are of cultural importance.
    “And you support this claim how?”
    “The movies were released over the course of a decade. One could
    say they are a historical biography of the evolution of muscle cars.”
    “One such as you.”
    He smiles, and I swear his eyes are as perfect as the bright blue sky
    shadowing him. “One such as me.”
    I cover my now-empty plate that once held a fluffy cheese omelet. “Is
    there a collection of muscle cars to go along with this interest?”
    “No muscle cars in my garage. Too impractical. I’ll live vicariously
    through the movies.”
    “And here I thought you were a Bentley kind of guy.”
    “I’m not a flashy guy.”
    “But you love Fast & Furious .”
    “All men love Fast & Furious .”
    “But you are not all men, Liam.”
    His shoves his empty plate aside and leans close, his elbow on the
    table. “And why is that, Amy?”
    “Oh, come on. You know you aren’t like other guys. You’re a prodigy,
    protégé, and billionaire.”
    “If I let those things become who I am, then they are all that I am.
    Judge me by who I am outside those things. Who would I be if those things
    were suddenly stripped away? A man who loves hamburgers, Fast &
    Furious , Thirty Seconds to Mars, and the History Channel, which we’ve
    determined we have in common.”
    I laugh at the way he sums himself up, charmed by his lack of
    arrogance and by the unexpected randomness of his interest. “And some
    violinist—”
    “David Garrett.”
    “David Garrett,” I repeat, “who you swear will seduce me into loving
    his music. All these pieces of you are not what I expected.”
    “Is that good?” His voice is softer now, rougher.
    “Yes. Yes, it’s good.”
    “Unexpected and good. Much like us.”
    I suck in a breath, surprised, pleased, warmed by this man in a way
    the morning sunshine cannot begin to touch. “Yes,” I say, sealing my
    decision to weed through all the history I have to hide, to have just a few
    weeks with this man. “Unexpected.” So very unexpected.
    “And good,” he prods.
    I smile. “And good.”
    His cell phone rings. He grimaces and hits decline, glancing at me and
    answering my unasked question. “Derek, the guy I was talking to when you
    woke up. He’s an investor in the building project and the only reason I
    entertained the idea of being involved. He gets me and what I do.”
    “Do you need to go meet with him? Because I’m fine if you do.”
    “No. They’ll wait until tomorrow.” He changes the subject. “Do you
    have a passport?”
    My unease is instant; a fizzle of fear over his motives sparks into life. I
    laugh nervously, feeling as if I have been on a casual fun drive and just got
    sideswiped. “My travels have been as ambitious as sampling the various
    cupcake shops around Manhattan.”
    He smiles, and it is as devastatingly sexy as his tattoo. Well, almost.
    “Sweet tooth?”
    “Mammoth-sized, though I don’t indulge often or I’ll be
    mammoth-sized.” I sound halfway okay, I think, but all I can think is why did
    he ask about the passport?
    He lifts the cover of a plate to display some sort of gooey chocolate
    waffle concoction. “I do, too.” He hands me a fork. “I’ll dare if you will.”
    I take a fork and my hand trembles. Liam gently shackles my wrist
    and I inhale and look at him. “What’s wrong, Amy?”
    I want to scream at my complete inability to mask my emotions with
    this man. I’ve always handled myself smoothly. Okay, well, after that first
    year of melting down. “I feel like I’m keeping you from work.” Lie. Lie. Lie.
    You are such a liar.
    His eyes narrow and I swear he knows what I am, if not who I am.