‘That is an excellent question and yet another thing I haven’t figured out.’
‘Perhaps someone will sweep you off your feet.’
‘Nope. No way. That sort of thing sounds all very well, but what if you get carried away by the moment and then you discover it’s a mistake? When it’s too late to get out.’
His expression changed and as he reached out for his glass his usually deft movement was a jerk that tipped his glass. Recovering, he caught it, lifted it and sipped. ‘I think you need to take your time. Really get to know someone before you make a long-term commitment. But to do that you do have to go on that first date.’
‘It feels too scary. Plus it doesn’t work like that. However sensible you think you are you can get carried away—attraction, love...they can skew common sense, kid you into making stupid decisions.’ As she had with Nick. ‘I’d want to walk away the minute I felt my heart start beating a bit faster, the minute it felt even the tiniest bit out of my control.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s easier to stay single.’
‘Agreed. Though there are some drawbacks, unless you plan on a lifetime of celibacy.’
‘That is a drawback.’ The words seemed to whir across the table and take on a life of their own. Their gazes met and locked and her throat tightened. ‘I assume you have no wish to join a monastery.’
‘No.’ He hesitated and then shrugged. ‘The only solution I’ve come up with is an occasional one-night stand. One night means there is definitively nothing more than a brief physical connection.’
Ava looked at him. ‘And that’s enough?’
There was a silence and then he nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said finally as he drank the last of his wine. ‘That is better than the risks involved in a relationship.’ He shook his head, gave a sudden smile as if to lighten the mood. ‘Listen to us. We are hardly advocates of true love. Yet we’re about to try and sell the concept to the world. Or at least some of it.’
‘It does sound a bit mad. But I just want to say. I...think we have a much better chance of pulling this off now. Italy was a good idea. It’s given us a chance to get to know each other.’ Which was a good thing, right? So why did it suddenly feel like a bad one?
She glanced at her watch. ‘I guess we’d better get going. I need to pack and prepare. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE FOLLOWING DAY, once again aboard the private plane, Liam surveyed Ava. As always she looked perfect, the outfit smart casual, dark blue jeans, tucked-in collared shirt topped by a pretty grey jumper with a floral edging, perfect for a meet the parent for the first time scenario. Her nails were a discreet neutral colour; her hair, freshly washed, cascaded in blonde waves past her shoulders and wafted an evocative floral scent across the table. Light make-up showed that she’d made an effort but without being over the top.
She frowned. ‘Do I look OK? Should I have gone for something more businesslike?’
‘You look fine. It’s perfect for the occasion.’
‘That’s what I thought.’
He could see her nervousness though, the slight pallor of her skin and the amber flecks of wariness in her eyes. ‘It’ll be OK.’ What else could he say?
‘I hope so. I just know that this is going to be awkward.’
He hesitated, knew he was putting Ava in an unconscionable position. A few days ago it hadn’t bothered him. Now scant hours away from bringing the two women together he felt...bad.
‘You told me a bit about your mum. What about John and Max? What are they like?’
Edginess shifted inside him. ‘Max likes rollerblading, he goes to school. He is a typical teenage boy, I guess. John works hard, he’s quiet... I don’t really know him that well. I was twenty when they got married. I...’ The wedding was etched on his soul. When he’d seen the way John and Bea looked at each other, the love and joy in their eyes, their stance, their everything, seen Max wrap his arms round Bea’s waist in a hug, Liam had realised with an intense visceral knowledge exactly what he’d cost his mother. That was when he’d vowed to stay clear, keep his distance, make up for what he had done. ‘We’re not really that close.’ He tried for a smile, wanted to take the worry from Ava’s eyes, rebury his own memories. ‘It’ll be OK. We go in, chat, leave. Look at it this way—if we can convince them, it will all be a breeze from there.’
‘It feels like a pretty big if.’
‘Hey, what’s the worst that can happen?’
‘I’ve considered that. How about this? Your mum sees through us in less than a minute... Your mum hates me because of my dad. Either way she throws me out.’
‘Nah. Won’t happen. My worst-case scenario is we succumb to the stress of it all and run around my mum’s lounge clucking like chickens saying, “It’s all a lie”.’
The absurdity of the image caused her to give an involuntary chuckle. ‘Speak for yourself. I guarantee I won’t do that.’
* * *
A few hours later they pulled up outside a small well-maintained terraced house on the outskirts of London. Ava took in the bright red door, the clean paint on the walls, the small front garden replete with carefully tended flowers and shrubs. The elegant slatted blinds in the windows. ‘It’s lovely,’ Ava said, though a part of her had expected Liam’s mum to live in a larger house, had thought Liam would have given her a mansion.
As if reading her thoughts, Liam shrugged. ‘It is. Though I did offer to buy Mum something bigger but she and John refused. Prefer to make their own way.’ Impossible to be sure but she thought there was a hint of hurt in his tone.