The one place she could go to put Liam Conner out of her mind.
To have the image of him wandering through her rooms and lounging on her furniture that was chosen for comfort rather than fashion would steal what little corner of peace she had left.
“You’ve done your duty,” she informed him. “Now go away.”
He clicked his tongue, reaching to take the key from her hand and efficiently unlock the door.
“Ungrateful brat,” he chided, urging her over the threshold. “You can at least offer me coffee.”
She glared over her shoulder as he pressed a hand to her lower back, giving him enough room to step inside.
“Do you ever take no for an answer?”
His lips twitched, the gold flecks in the emerald eyes more pronounced in the sunlight that filtered through the high, arched windows.
“That’s a foolish question,” he said.
She sighed. It was. This man had created a personal empire out of nothing.
No didn’t figure into his vocabulary.
“Someday,” she breathed, at last turning her attention toward her living room that was decorated in soothing shades of turquoise and tangerine. Her gaze, however, was swiftly captured by the stack of boxes that were piled in the center of the tiled floor. Wrapped in white and silver with large bows, they consumed an amazing amount of space. “Shit.”
Yesterday she’d informed the reception staff to deliver the unopened presents to Ted. He was the one who’d jilted her. Why should she deal with the unpleasant duty of returning the gifts?
Now she could only assume that her ex-fiancé had used his spare key last night to dump them here.
It was a childish act of vengeance.
But why?
It was his choice to abandon her at the altar. Why act as if he was the victim?
The raw, savagely painful humiliation she’d experienced while she’d stood in the small vestibule with her father impatiently pacing the floor and her bridesmaids watching her with growing pity, seared through her.
Oh…god.
She pressed a hand to her stomach, suddenly feeling like she was going to be sick.
Stepping forward, Liam stared at the stack of boxes with a grim fury, his hands clenched.
“What the hell is this?”
“Wedding presents.” She pointed out the obvious, inanely sensing he was even more disturbed than she was by the unexpected sight.
“I know what they are, princess,” he snarled. “What I don’t understand is why they’re here.”
She hunched a shoulder, unconsciously backing away from the unwelcomed reminders of her aborted wedding.
Another failure…a treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind.
“Someone will have to deal with them,” she forced herself to mutter.
Perhaps sensing her distress, Liam turned his head to study her pale face with a perceptive gaze.
“Not you,” he gruffly said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and steering her out of the still open door. “And not today.”
“What are you doing?” she demanded, instinctively falling into step beside him as they retraced their route through the hallway and down the stairs.
“Taking you to breakfast,” he told her.
A strange emotion twisted her heart.
It wasn’t the anger she should be feeling at his assumption that she would meekly accept his plans. Or even the embarrassment that he’d witnessed yet another shameful reminder that she’d been so publically revealed as unworthy.
It was fear.
Fear that she wanted to go with him.
That she was secretly thrilled at the thought that the night of mad pleasure didn’t have to end.
“And it didn’t occur to you that you might actually ask me if I want to go to breakfast with you?” she snapped as they exited the apartment building into the sun that was already warming the crisp morning air.
Liam came to a sudden halt, grabbing her shoulders so he could turn her to meet his scorching emerald gaze.
“Do you really want to go in that apartment right now?” he demanded.
She grimaced at the blunt question. “No.”
“Do you want me to take you to your family?”
And endure Luc’s outraged opinion of her former fiancé? Or worse, her father’s icy disapproval?
She shuddered. “No.”
“Friends?”
“No.”
“Then it’s me,” he ground out, tugging her toward the Mercedes.
She silently crossed the parking lot and allowed herself to be seated in the car. Liam was swiftly behind the wheel and driving them west of town.
Eventually Holly gave a slow shake of her head.
Just twenty-four hours ago she would have claimed that she was an efficient, highly independent woman who had a clear understanding of what she wanted from her life.
Now she had no idea what she wanted from her future, while the emotions she’d so proudly kept leashed were swinging from one extreme to another.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she mumbled.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he growled, shooting her a fierce glare.
She blinked, distantly puzzled by his smoldering anger. It didn’t seem directed at her. Still…it was odd.
“I feel like…” She struggled to find the words.
“Tell me.”
“Like I’m in limbo,” she at last said. “I can’t seem to get my shit together.” She shook her head in frustration. “It’s stupid.”
“Holly.” He grimaced, turning his attention back to the road.
“What?”
“You’ve been through a traumatic experience,” he reminded her. “Give yourself time to heal.”
There was a slight hesitation that made her sense that hadn’t been what he was going to say, but before she could press him, he turned into an upscale subdivision on the edge of town.
She frowned in confusion. “I thought we were going to breakfast?”
“We are.”
He pulled to a halt in front of a brick, ranch-style home with a low, gabled roof and pretty marble fountain in the middle of the circular drive.
“Here?” she demanded in surprise.
Sliding from behind the steering wheel, he rounded the hood and helped her out of the car.
“Mary makes the best pancakes in town,” he assured her.
“Mary?”
“My sister. Mary Magdalen Conner Black.” He offered a rueful smile. “But don’t tell her that I spilled the beans on her middle name. She’ll break my nose.” He lifted a hand to touch his slender nose. “Again.”