Page 73 of Forbidden Mistress

As I climb up the stairs, I ball my fists in frustration. Fuck. Liam. My God. Why is he always getting in my way?

Butterflies are at war in my stomach as I move down the hallway and push Liam’s bedroom door open. As I step inside, I suck in a breath and immediately wish I hadn’t. It smells like him in here—his expensive cologne, his musky male scent. I moan inwardly.

The papers are lying in a neat pile of manila envelopes on the desk, so I scurry across the room and scoop them up. Just as I’m turning, I catch sight of the doorway just beyond that leads to the adjacent bathroom. It’s ajar, mostly open to the bedroom and the shower door has just opened.

I freeze. Either Lori has a very cleanliness-fixated intruder in her house or Liam came home a lot sooner than she thought. But instead of ducking out before I’m noticed, I freeze, completely shocked by what I see.

Liam is standing naked on the bathmat, drying himself with a towel. He’s turned away from me, and my gaze lands on his deliciously toned ass. I’m momentarily mesmerized, my gaze climbing from the dimpled muscles of his lower back up to his tapered waist and then to his broad shoulders.

I’m backing slowly away as Liam wraps the towel around his waist and then turns to reach for another towel for his hair. As he does so, he turns partially toward me and exposes the massive tattoo covering his shoulder.

I freeze, my gut diving to the ground. It’s a stag, with antlers and a head formed from stylized Celtic knotwork. It’s…

It’s exactly like Hart’s tattoo.

In the exact same spot.

My blood freezes. What the actual fuck?

I almost drop the bundle of envelopes I’m holding. No. This isn’t possible. My brain refuses to accept what’s right in front of me. Hart isn’t Lucian. He was never Lucian.

Hart is Liam.

Liam is Hart.

Oh my fucking god. Hart, the man who I let dominate my body, whose cock I begged for…all those things we did. All those things I let him do. Hart is…my stepbrother. The bundle of papers drops to the floor and scatters at my feet. Liam turns, and our eyes lock.

One heartbeat. Two. His mouth opens.

“You,” is the only word I can choke out. “You’re him—” I shake my head.

“Fuck.” He’s still dripping wet with only a towel around his waist. “Cass, wait—” He steps toward me and holds out his hand as I back away.

I just shake my head, unable to speak.

“Cass, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”

I blink. Yeah, no shit.

He advances on me, and I take a step back. “You’ve done some horrible things in your life,” I say on the verge of hyperventilation, tears forming. “But this? My God. This is next-level cruel, Liam.”

He’s only a few feet away and about to reply when I do the only thing I can think to do. I turn on my heel and run. As fast as I possibly can.

I can’t breathe. The air is clogged in my throat, and sucking in a full breath is nearly impossible. What’s worse, my heart is racing so fast, I’m afraid I might pass out.

I rush out the back door without even saying goodbye to Lori. I just jump in my car and peel out of there so fast I lay down half the rubber on my tires right in front of our old house.

It’s minutes later and I’m at the stoplight before I can even formulate a plan. I can’t trust myself to drive all the way back to Pasadena like this. So I head to one of my favorite places in the area—Zuma Beach.

I manage to still the zillion thoughts racing through my head long enough to get there safely. When I pull up and park, I’m relieved to find the beach empty. It’s the middle of a weekday on a chilly, breezy day, so of course, it would be.

With tears streaming down my face, I kick my shoes off and walk out to the edge of the water and cross my arms over my chest, hugging myself tight. How could Liam do this to me? In my mind, I go back and replay every interaction I had with Hart.

The mask.

The accent.

The insanely crazy chemistry we had.

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