Page 76 of Begin Again, Part 2

"Here," he handed her a mojito, and she took it, insanely aware of the electricity between them when their fingers brushed.

"Thanks," she said, taking a sip. She sighed with disappointment when she didn't taste any alcohol. "I'm not seventeen, you know. I'm old enough to drink."

"You will." Liam smiled roguishly. "After our talk. Then we'll have the best alcohol-fuelled sex of our lives."

"Is that all you think about?" Eden snapped.

"And you and our son," he smirked. "But you're right. I'd say fifty percent of my thoughts are of you in my bed—"

"Stop it," she glared at him and pushed her glasses up her nose. "People can hear you."

"You are such a prude." Liam made a face at her as he rested his hand lightly on the small of her back, shooting tiny sparks of awareness through her body.

Good grief, Eden thought as she gulped down her virgin. The man had just banged her in a public elevator, but she still wanted him. She needed lots of prayers and maybe some Jesus.

She forced her gaze back on the ring, banishing all her unholy thoughts, but the tension between them didn't go away. The longer she stayed in his presence, the deadlier it grew. Talking wouldn't be the only thing on the menu tonight.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Liam gave her a sidelong glance and leaned closer, his breath fanning her cheek and neck. She trembled in anticipation of his lips on her skin, and he didn't disappoint when he left a light kiss on her bare shoulder.

"Yes, it is," Eden croaked, hating how her voice caught in her throat when he pulled away to let his gaze wander up and down her frame, an unreadable look in his eyes.

She tucked her hair behind her ear, feeling a little self-conscious, convinced the dress was overkill. Why would he stare so long if it wasn't?

"Like you," he said in a voice so soft, Eden thought she'd imagined it. But his intense stare when she dared look at him confirmed she hadn't.

"You look stunning," he added, louder and clearer this time. "I should have told you earlier, but I was preoccupied with other stuff."

A hot flush swept up her neck and cheeks, and she loathed herself for feeling all warm and fuzzy at his compliment.

"Do you like it?" Liam asked softly, a hint of a smile in his words.

"Do you?" Eden threw the question back at him.

"Very much," he nodded, maintaining eye contact with her.

For an insane second, maybe two or three, Eden thought they weren't talking about the ring anymore. She held her breath, afraid to move, convinced she'd come undone if he so much as reached for her again.

But he released her from his spell, glancing at the ring. And just like that, their loaded moment was gone. Once again, they were just two people admiring a piece of jewellery they knew didn't come from Egypt, but was still beautiful.

"I'm going to buy it for you." His eyes held a promise she wasn't sure what to make of.

"Don't waste your money on a knockoff." Eden shook her head and moved along, stopping in front of a painting of the Madonna.

She didn't realise she was crying until Liam silently handed her a white handkerchief monogrammed with his initials.

"I'm sorry," she said as she dabbed her eyes. "I don't know why I'm crying."

"It's Stendhal's syndrome," he said. "Some people experience insanely overwhelming emotions when they look at a piece of art or something of great beauty. I believe that's what you've just had."

"What?" Eden frowned at him, amazed he knew about Stendhal's syndrome.

"I read somewhere the feeling is like an orgasm, but way more intense," he laughed, and Eden glared at him, annoyed that even when she was feeling so vulnerable, he still took pleasure in messing with her.

"I know what Stendhal's syndrome is," she scoffed. "There's no need for your Psych 101 lesson."

Liam's booming laugh reverberated through the room, attracting a few stares from the crowd. "Okay then, Dr McBride."

"Here you go." She handed him his handkerchief back. "Thank you."

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