Page 12 of Beckoning Liam

"Thank you," Liam said. He took the keys and handed one to Becks, his fingers brushing against hers. That simple touch was like a spark to dry tinder, igniting a longing that threatened to consume her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice a tender caress against the backdrop of their fraught circumstances.

"Yes, I just…" Becks paused, her confession catching in her throat. "It's a lot to process."

"It is." He drew closer, his presence a magnetic force. "You’re not alone, and it sounds like Rovena knows what she’s doing. We’ll find these people, and we’ll get them stopped."

They took the elevator to their room, a large, secluded room that spoke of anonymity and secrets. Once inside, Liam secured the door and turned to face her, his eyes reflecting a storm of emotions—desire and the edge of something darker.

The reassurance in his words tugged at something deep inside her, the duality of their situation a dizzying high. Fear mingled with fervor, and the stark reality of what they were up against intertwined with the tangle of their emotions. Inthe waning light of the afternoon sun as it filtered through the windows of their hotel room, surrounded by shadows and suspense, Becks felt the allure of the danger they faced—and the irresistible pull of the man before her.

The room's lavish decor faded into the periphery as Becks focused on the task at hand. Liam sat shirtless on the edge of the plush bed, his torso a canvas of bruises and shallow cuts—proof of their recent brush with death. The muscular contours of his back were tense, showing lines of strain that even his stoic demeanor couldn't fully disguise.

"Keep still," Becks murmured, her voice hushed yet firm as she dabbed antiseptic onto a gauze pad. Her hands, typically reserved for flipping through ancient texts or tapping at keyboards, now maneuvered with a surprising deftness over his wounds.

Liam's jaw tightened, a barely perceptible wince crossing his features. "I've had worse," he said gruffly, but there was a softness in his tone that belied the brusque words. A heavy tension hung between them, filled with unspoken feelings and the lingering adrenaline of their escape.

"Doesn't mean you should ignore these now," Becks replied, her touch gentle yet authoritative. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the raw power coiled in his frame. It disconcerted her, this reversal of their usual dynamics—her assuming the role of caregiver, him the vulnerable one. Yet it stirred something within her too, a flutter of empowerment mixed with deepening concern.

"Thank you," he said, meeting her eyes with his own.

Becks felt a shiver travel down her spine, not from fear but from the intensity of their connection. She was shaken, not just by the violence they'd narrowly survived, but also by the realization of how deeply intertwined their lives had become.

"Let's just focus on keeping you alive," she quipped, attempting to inject some levity into the palpable tension.

"Alive and kicking," Liam corrected with a shadow of his usual dry humor. "These Wanderers of the Shadows, not to mention Sokolov, won't know what hit them when we're through."

She sealed a bandage over a particularly nasty cut along his ribcage, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. "Do you think Sokolov works for them?”

“Unknown. Sokolov is free-lance and expensive. We also have history. We just need to be aware that the Wanderers may have power and money backing them.”

“You're impressive, you know. The way you handled things back there..."

"Part of the job description," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Still," Becks pressed on, "not everyone can stay so collected under pressure. Your dedication... it's remarkable."

"Comes with its own set of scars," he countered, glancing away, a cloud of past shadows briefly darkening his expression.

"Scars are just stories, Liam. And I'm starting to read yours." She finished tending to his wounds, packing away the medical supplies with an efficiency she hadn't known she possessed.

"Be careful, Dr. Ashworth," Liam warned, a hint of his dominant nature surfacing. "Some stories aren't meant to be read casually."

"Then consider me thoroughly warned," Becks retorted, her breath hitching slightly as she observed the familiar mask of control settle back over his features.

"Good." He stood, towering over her once again, his physical presence a stark reminder of the power dynamic that lay beneath their current roles. "Because our next chapter is about to begin."

And though they were surrounded by danger, the promise held within his words ignited a thrill in Becks that went beyondfear or reason. It was a call to that place she normally kept locked away and had never known she craved, with a man whose layers she was only just beginning to peel back. BDSM had always been a luxury she only rarely allowed herself, but spending time with Liam made her understand how many came to need it more often than not.

The click-clack of Becks' fingers on the keyboard resonated in the dimly lit room of Maison des Arts, a rhythmic counter to the steady pulse of the Parisian rain that had finally broken through the clouds. She was lost in the digital maze that Liam had crafted for them—a safe haven within the Cerberus secure system where secrets unfolded like dark petals.

"Anything?" Liam's voice cut through her concentration, as he leaned over her shoulder, his breath warm against the nape of her neck.

"Rovena's outdone herself," she murmured, pulling up a dossier filled with clandestine transactions and coded messages. "I mean, I always knew she had skills, but this is beyond anything I thought she was capable of. Look at this." Her finger traced the screen, highlighting a bank transfer linked to a prominent political figure—a name that had no business being amidst the information Rovena had given them.

"Damn," Liam muttered, his brows knitting together. “Have you figured out what they’re doing?”

She nodded. “I think I’ve got enough of it to make a pretty good guess. They’re using a nomadic, decentralized network to infiltrate financial systems worldwide and destroy the economies of small or unstable countries. They’re using Romanyto try and keep their communications misclassified, which adds a layer of obfuscation to their covert activities.”

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