I get my breath and shut my eyes, shaking my head. Damnit. What the hell is wrong with me?
I hold my hand out, a signal that I’m okay and just need a minute. I’m still worried I might pass out when I feel a brush of something heavy at my left side, then a weight behind me, then an arm around my waist.
“Lucy… Lucy, Lucy…” His voice beside my ear is soft and gentle. Deep and low.
His arm around my waist is heavy and secure. He wraps his other arm around my shoulders, locking me against him.
“It’s okay…”
I feel his chin against my shoulder, feel his forehead brush against my hair as his arms gently squeeze.
For one long second, everything inside me bucks against him and the waves of horror rise. Then it feels so good that I can’t fight him. My muscles slacken and I relax against him, letting myself give in to the careful, whispered words and strong strokes of his hands along my arm and hip.
“Lucy Rhodes…I can’t believe you’re here. It’s gonna be okay. Whatever’s wrong…”
I shut my eyes. “Why do you like me?”
“What?” His tone is surprised, but his body doesn’t stiffen.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, Lucy?”
“You wrote me a letter one time,” I say hoarsely.
“Yes.”
Why did you do it? My throat is so tight, I can’t get the words out.
“Why do you like red, Lucille? The color red.”
“Because it’s festive,” I rasp. My voice is unsteady. How embarrassing.
“So is yellow.”
I shake my head. No, “yellow is bright.”
“Festive,” he says.
“Cheery. There’s a difference.”
“Is there?”
“Yes.” I laugh—because it’s so ridiculous, this conversation. The location of it, and the circumstances. “Did you get off your horse and onto mine?” I ask him, even though it’s clear he did.
“Learned it in the circus.”
“What?” I laugh.
“It’s true. I had a crush on this woman once. I was younger. She was a trapeze artist.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh, yes.”
I lean my head back, feel his cheek against my cheek. Then his lips against my cheek. The kiss is gentle. Undemanding. And yet, it makes me shiver.
I put my hand over his, over the one that’s cupping my hip. “Yellow is way different than red,” I murmur.
“I know.”
“You do?”
“Of course. That’s the point that I was making, Lucy. You like red because you like it. And you don’t like yellow. Not the same way.” His voice is husky, sending shivers over my arms. “I like you because I like you. I like that you eat your cereal dry and wear those little ribbons in your hair. I like that you ride well and your skin smells sweet like flowers. I like that you eat too much candy corn at Halloween.”
“You know that because of the show.”
“And?” His fingers brush over my hip.
“That’s cheating.”
I can feel him shrug behind me. “I don’t think that you’re the ‘feisty’ one. I don’t see you as one of the Rhodes. I understand what’s television.”
“Yeah…”
“Don’t be worried. Not here, while you’re with me. I’ll take care of you. I’ll give you what you need if you can tell me what that is.”
Stinging tears well in my eyes. “What if I can’t?” I whisper.
“I’ll figure it out.”
I feel his lips brush my temple. Then he makes a clicking sound, and Pegasus steps away from Eeyore. Liam slides down, then mounts his horse and reaches for my hair. He catches a stray strand. His eyes on mine are clear; impassive. Watching me the way one might an animal.
“You want to run the horses?”
“Okay.” I wipe my eyes.
And we do run. Down the beach, like in a movie. The horse’s hooves kick up sand that pelts our cheeks. My horse is so fast, my eyes water against the spray of the surf and the whip of the wind. Gulls caw overhead. The horizon tips as I sail over sea dunes. I feel like I’m living in a kaleidoscope.
And then it’s over. Liam and Peg slow out in front of Eeyore and me. Before I even know it, Liam has turned to face me. He is waiting on a rocky stretch of shore. His hair is down, blowing around his face. His lips look impossibly gorgeous; those stark cheekbones; the tanned face. And his eyes. They blink at me, an owl’s eyes, beautiful because they ask for nothing.
I smile. Liam smiles back.
“Horses on the beach,” I say.
“One of the best things.”
“Yeah.” I rub my hand over my wind-tossed hair, feeling soft and bare and shy.
“Are you cold?” he asks.
I shake my head.
Liam holds up a hand. “Stay there, okay?” He pulls his phone out of his pocket. Takes my picture. I don’t smile. Not until he’s finished.
“Why’d you do that?”
He smiles at me, doesn’t answer. The phone goes back into his pocket. Then he just…looks at me.
“You’re staring,” I say, feeling self-conscious.
He smiles again, softly. “I know.”
“Do you stare at all your guests?”
His lip twitches. “I never stare.”
“Too busy getting stared at?”
He shrugs, and somehow it’s not the moment it should be. He looks a little sad, a little bit some other way I don’t know how to name. He doesn’t look like a manwhore. My heart pounds anew because, again, I’m realizing how little I know about him.
“Do you want to see something horrible, Lucy?”
I can’t help laughing. “Something horrible?”
He nods, solemn.
“Are you serious?”
Another nod.
I walk Eeyore over to Peg and reach out to swat at Liam, even though I can’t reach him. “You and your looks.”
His lips twitch, making him look younger. “What’s that mean?”
“You’ve got a lot of intense, serious looks. I can’t imagine how you ended up with a party boy persona.”
“You know what they say about the quiet ones.” He winks.
“Do you consider yourself quiet?”
He shrugs. He turns his horse around, moves a little bit ahead of me, and looks over his shoulder. “Do you want to see?”
“I can’t say ‘no’ to that.”
He nods once, then starts walking Peg around the rocky bend of the shore. I follow, going slowly on Eeyore, although he doesn’t seem thrown off by the rocks.
Liam looks back. “I trained them here when they were yearlings.”
“I want to hear how you trained them—later,” I say over the wind. He nods.
I follow him down a long, straight stretch of shore, into a grove of big, mossy trees that’s strange right by the ocean. Also strange: the way a thick, beige-green grass infringes on the sand around them.
Liam gets down off Peg. He ties the horse to a tree trunk, then comes over and leads Eeyore to another. He stands by Eey as I slide down, then takes my arm.
“It’s rocky,” he says, even though it’s not that rocky.
I clasp his hand; we twine our fingers together without a word, and Liam leads me into the trees.
“Gotta tell you, this doesn’t look horrible so far.”
He gives me a small, grim smile. “We’re not there yet.”
EIGHTEEN Lucy
“Should I be creeped out?”
“If you weren’t with me, maybe. If you were an enemy of the crown.” His thick brows wiggle.