Kate Hardy - If The Ring Fits...

The sensible thing to do would be to call a halt to this. Now. Because otherwise she was just setting herself up for more heartbreak.

Liam couldn’t remember the last time he’d woken with a woman’s arms wrapped round him.

Well, he could. The night before the accident. And then he’d been in a hospital bed for weeks. When he finally came out of hospital, he and Bianca had slept in separate rooms because she’d claimed she was terrified of causing more damage to his back.

And then she’d walked out on him.

He’d had offers, since, but he’d turned them down gently. He wasn’t interested in a meaningless fling, and he wasn’t in the market for a relationship, so it had been easier to keep everything strictly platonic. Keep himself separate.

But Polly … Polly had really got under his skin. Even when she drove him crazy with that super-bright fake smile, her warmth and sweetness still drew him. And last night, she’d opened up to him. Shown him what she’d been hiding all along.

She was vulnerable. Fragile.

Yet, at the same time, she was strong. Liam knew she wouldn’t have given up on him, the way Bianca had. She would’ve been there by his side all the way, cheering on his recovery.

And right now she was lying with her head on his shoulder and her arms wrapped round him. It would be oh, so easy to turn to face her. To kiss her awake, to watch her eyes open sleepily and then that warmth shine through at him. To tease her mouth with his until she responded, kissing him back the way she’d kissed him last night. Make love with her again until they were both sated.

Was she really asleep? Her breathing was deep and even, but he knew how often she faked her smile. Maybe she was faking sleep, too.

‘Polly?’ he whispered. ‘Are you awake?’

There was a pause. Long enough to make him think that maybe he’d got it wrong. But then she whispered back, ‘Yes.’

He shifted to face her. Still with his arms wrapped round her, and hers round him.

And he really couldn’t help himself. He touched his mouth to hers. Gently. Lightly. His skin tingled at the contact, and every atom in his body was aware of her. How good she felt, close to him, soft and warm and sweet. ‘Good morning,’ he whispered.

‘Good morning.’ Colour bloomed in her face. She touched his cheek. ‘You look like a pirate with all this stubble.’

‘I feel like a highwayman,’ he said. ‘Ready to grab you from your carriage, lift you onto my horse, and ride off with you.’ He kissed the corner of her mouth. ‘And then I’d most definitely have my wicked way with you.’

‘You’d look amazing in a highwayman outfit.’

So she had a highwayman fantasy, did she? Well, he could do something about that. Something that would be very, very satisfying for them both. ‘I’m so talking to the wardrobe department.’

She shivered.

He could drown in those eyes. Especially when she was looking at him like that, her eyes wide and sultry. ‘Polly,’ he whispered. ‘I want—’

She dragged in a breath. ‘So do I. But we can’t. We need to be sensible about this.’

‘Sensible?’ He went cold.

‘Sensible,’ she said again. ‘We got carried away last night. And we shouldn’t have done.’

He frowned. ‘Polly, if it’s about this …’ He took her wrist and kissed the scar. ‘It doesn’t make any difference.’

‘It’s not about that.’ But there was a catch in her voice and she pulled her wrist away. ‘Liam, we’re both picking up the pieces of our lives. We’ve both got a lot of baggage. If we let this go any further, it’s going to get messy and complicated. Neither of us needs that right now. We need to concentrate on getting through the competition, so you can wow the Broadway producers and I can persuade a network to take a chance on me with another kids’ show.’

She was right. Of course she was. But Liam had thought they’d shared something special last night. Clearly he’d been wrong. And it served him right for breaking his rule and not keeping himself separate.

‘Yes,’ he said, doing his best to sound cool and detached.

She blew out a breath. ‘I’m sorry. I know I’m being a coward, but—’

‘It’s fine,’ he cut in, not wanting to hear any more. ‘We have a plane to catch, and I’d planned to take you for a proper Viennese breakfast, seeing as you worked hard enough to get the waltz right, yesterday.’ He gave her a tight smile. ‘I’ll go back to my own room for a shower.’

‘OK.’ She sounded awkward.

Clearly she’d gone shy on him, even after what they’d shared last night. And when Liam dragged his clothes on, he noticed that she kept her back to him. Was she being courteous and giving him some privacy? Or was it because she couldn’t face what they’d done? Or to stop herself being tempted? The way she’d kissed him this morning made him wonder.

A cold shower did a lot to restore his equilibrium and he managed to keep his face neutral when he knocked on her door. ‘Ready for breakfast?’ he asked when she opened the door.

She nodded. ‘I’ve packed. Do we need to check out first?’

‘No, we’ll do that after breakfast.’

Liam took Polly to one of the oldest cafés in Vienna, where he knew the pastries were wonderful. Her smile was very bright, so he knew she was worrying that he’d push her to talk about those scars on her wrists. Well, he wasn’t going to push her. He’d wait until she was ready to tell him.

‘I’m having the Viennese specialty—Sachertorte and a melange .’ At her questioning look, he said, ‘Coffee. It’s a cross between a latte and a cappuccino, without the cocoa on top.’

‘Sounds good. And you’re actually having chocolate cake for breakfast?’

‘This is more than just chocolate cake.’ He shrugged. ‘This is Vienna. The cakes here are fantastic. There’s a whole counter over there,’ he said, indicating the glass-fronted display with all kinds of cakes and pastries. ‘Go and find something you like the look of.’

She gave him a grateful look and escaped to choose some cake.

When the waitress brought their order over, he found that she’d opted for a rich strawberry torte, thin layers of soft sponge and strawberry mousse, topped with fresh strawberries and whipped cream.

‘That looks lush.’

She tasted a forkful. ‘It is. Want to try some?’

‘Swap you for a taste of my Sachertorte?’

‘Deal.’

Her smile was still a bit on the over-bright side, but Liam could tell she was starting to relax with him again. He enjoyed her feeding him a forkful of her torte, too; though he couldn’t help thinking about last night and wishing things were different. He really was going to have to get a grip.

‘A bit too rich for me,’ was her verdict on the Sachertorte, ‘but the coffee’s fantastic.’

After breakfast, they headed back through the main streets.

‘I can’t believe how pretty it is here,’ Polly said at the corner of Stefansplatz. She gestured to the gothic cathedral with its distinctive roof. ‘Just look at that, the way the spire’s so sharp against the sky.’

Liam had almost forgotten how much he loved Vienna, the wide streets and the incredible architecture and the art installations everywhere. Seeing it with Polly made him see it through fresh eyes.

‘You’re not the only one who likes it.’ He pointed out the artists who were painting street scenes, with racks of pictures for sale set up by their easels.

A string quartet dressed in eighteenth-century costume was playing Mozart.

‘Can we stop and listen for a while?’ Polly asked.

‘Sure.’ And that was the other thing Liam loved about Vienna: the sound. The city of music. No out-of-tune buskers, here: whether they were string quartets or jazz trios or opera singers, they were all note-perfect.