Unplugged (Blue Phoenix, #3)(57)

Liam’s shoulders relax and he shifts forward for another kiss, this time hot and hungry, claiming my mouth. I sit forward and wrap my arms around him, the soapy water soaking his shirt. His words and the kiss dizzy me, pulling me into Liam, the man who dragged me through the blizzard and into something bright and new. My body fires to life; I ache for him everywhere and shift closer. Liam slides a hand across my wet back and then takes my shoulders, holding me away slightly.

“I have to stop; otherwise, I’m going to climb into that bath with you, and I promised I wouldn’t.” His breath warms my sensitive skin and I will him to touch me. “Get dry and we can sit outside.”

He stands; a wet patch against his t-shirt where our bodies met and unmistakable arousal in his shorts. I meet his eyes and he raises an eyebrow. “I told you I’d behave.” He throws a huge, fluffy white towel to me and says with his unmistakable Liam smirk, “I want to sit with you and watch the stars. I read in my romance manual that chicks like that.”

He wanders through the doors and sits in the darkness on the balcony. Taking calming breaths, I grab the towel and stand. As I leave the bathroom to find some clothes, I’m aware of Liam watching my every move.

Dressing in a pale blue sarong style dress, I then return to the balcony where Liam rests against the black rail looking over the ocean. Nothing is said as he winds an arm around my waist, as if this is a years old ritual. He nuzzles my neck and sighs. I snuggle in closer.

“Beautiful, amazing, sexy as f-uck Cerys loves me,” he whispers.

I hug his waist and rest my head on his damp T-shirt, the thud of his heart against my cheek, as the warm breeze sends the smell of the ocean. Snatched moments of pure happiness in life should be locked away, so we can access them when times are bad. Life couldn’t be more beautiful than this.

CHAPTER 24



CERYS



Princess Ella and Liam the Rock Star are asleep on the sofa. Disneyland exhausted them both, but at least Liam didn’t get the full princess makeover that Ella did, although he is currently wearing Ella’s tiara. My stomach flips and I fight down the niggling that threatened to ruin my holiday in the early days as I study my daughter so relaxed with this man that she happily leans on, mouth open, dribbling down his T-shirt. Unable to help myself, I take a picture with my phone.

Two days straight at Disneyland and I’m exhausted, too. Following a morning trailing around Fantasyland, I snuck off to Carnation Cafe for the afternoon while Liam took Ella back to her favourite part, Sleeping Beauty’s Castle. Times like that, I know Liam must really care about us. Why else would he let a five-year-old drag him to somewhere he arrives back from muttering about tiaras and shrieking girls? I told him he should be used to shrieking girls in his job and got a whispered, inappropriate-for-children’s-ears response about what would happen if I didn’t stop teasing him, and what I owed him for subjecting him to the experience.

Emily appears so I show her the picture, and we giggle.

“Do you think he’ll recover enough for tonight?” asks Emily.

“Tonight?”

“You guys have visitors, don’t you?”

Sky and Dylan are in town and Liam wants to catch them before they go. I met Sky once at Christmas, the frozen moment in time where she thought me and Liam were a couple, when at that point we weren’t. I know a little about her from things Liam has told me; and I know one thing I have in common with Sky is our lack of interest in the money and fame side of this life. I’m unsure I’d want to date, or be engaged to, Rock God, Dylan Morgan. Sky must be something special to cope with the side effects of that decision.

I need to find out how Sky copes with the attention she gets. Our first trip to Disneyland yesterday resulted in the first pictures of Liam with his new girlfriend and her child. Liam agreed to stop for pictures in return for the press leaving us alone to enjoy the rest of the day undisturbed, and to my surprise, they complied. I’ve asked Liam to try to stop them posting pictures of us that include Ella, but she’s the story. They blur her face in the photos, but anyone who knows us knows this is Ella. The constant need to reinforce Ella isn’t his daughter irritates me, although Liam’s blasé about it.

I had a text from Craig this morning; he’d seen the pictures, which surprises me because I didn’t think he watched the entertainment sites. Somebody must be watching them for him, Marcella probably.

<I didn’t know you were in the States>

<I told you we were going on holiday>

<I thought you meant Greece with Phoebe and not with him>

I stared at the phone, irritated by his intrusion into my happy world.

<See you next week> I replied and switch my phone off.

He’s not rewinding me to ‘panic-mode Cerys’; Wales doesn’t exist at this point.

****

A short snooze and a couple of beers later, and Liam has perked up. A little too much because when I step out of the shower and into the bedroom he’s sitting on the bed, waiting. Dressed in a greying Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt and jeans, I despair at whether he has the ability to dress up at all. I move from a guy obsessed by his appearance to one who chucks on whatever’s at the top of his drawers.

“I thought you might need help getting dressed,” he says with a smirk.

“That’s funny; normally, you’re too busy trying to get me out of clothes rather than help me put them on.”