A Very Exclusive Engagement(57)
Aunt Beatrice sat silently for a few minutes, absorbing his words. After a while, he began to wonder if she was mentally going over the new changes to her will. He didn’t care. Cut him out. Cut him loose.
“Those,” she said at last, “are the words of a man who can take charge of this family.” Beatrice smiled softly to herself and placed a blouse in her suitcase. “It’s what I’ve been waiting for. I never intended to sell my stock to Ron Wheeler. I just wanted to see you settled down, in control and happy with your place in life. Francesca is the right woman for you. I knew that just as certainly as I knew you two were pretending. In time, I figured things would work out between you. Once you both stopped fighting it. It’s a shame I’ll be dead before I can see you two genuinely happy together.”
“You knew we were faking the relationship?”
“It takes a smart, observant person to head this family. Very little gets past me, even now. But it’s okay. I’m sorry for meddling in your private life. Blackmail really isn’t my forte, but I did what I thought I needed to for the good of you and the family. I’ll call my stockbroker this afternoon and have the shares of ANS transferred to you.”
“What? Now?” He had years and millions to pay off before he owned those shares outright.
“It’s your wedding present. Most people don’t give networks as gifts, but you’re not the typical bride and groom.”
Liam reached out and took his aunt’s hand. It was something he rarely did; she wasn’t very affectionate, but he was seeing the dents in her armor. Her illness was revealing the person inside that she kept hidden. “Thank you, Aunt Beatrice.”
She turned her head, dismissing his sentiment with a wave of her hand, but he could see a moist shimmer in her eyes. “It will be thanks enough when you save that company and take over handling our motley crew of relatives when I’m gone.”
“Do I really have to be executor of the estate?”
“Absolutely. And don’t worry. Eventually, you will grow accustomed to the constant ass-kissing.”
*
Francesca left ANS early. She’d been a self-imposed prisoner in her office all morning, afraid she’d run into Liam in the hallway. She had had a few days to sit at home alone, licking her wounds, but she wasn’t ready to see him again. Especially knowing that everyone still expected them to be a happy, newly married couple.
After overhearing Jessica tell someone on the phone that Liam was out of the office, she figured this was her opportunity to escape.
She made it back to her town house without incident. Relieved, she dropped her purse on the coffee table, kicked off her shoes and went into the kitchen for a drink.
When Francesca rounded the corner and found Liam sitting at her kitchen table, she nearly leaped out of her skin. “Oh, dio mio!” She jumped, pressing her back against the counter and clutching her rapidly beating heart. “What the hell are you doing here, Liam? You scared me to death.”
He looked a little sheepish as he stood up and came over to her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you’d notice my car out front. You gave me a key, so I figured I would wait around until you got home. When I called Jessica she told me you’d left.”
“I gave you that key when we were going to be a happily married couple. Using it after everything that happened is a little creepy. Why are you here, anyway? We don’t have anything to talk about.”
Liam shook his head and came closer. She was able to catch of whiff of his cologne and her body immediately began responding to him. Apparently, it hadn’t gotten the message about the breakup of their nonrelationship.
“We have a lot to talk about. Starting with how much I love you and how miserable I’ve been since you left.”
Francesca started to argue with him and then stopped. Did he just… She couldn’t have heard him right. “What did you say?”
Liam smiled, sending her heart fluttering at the sight. He was wearing a navy collared shirt that brought out the dark blue of his eyes as he closed in on her. She noticed a few weary lines around them. He looked a little tired and tense, but she had attributed that to the stress of running the network and the fiasco of their wedding.
Could it be that he was losing sleep over her?
He stopped just short of touching her, forcing her to look up at him. His hands closed over her upper arms, their warmth sinking deep into her bones. “I love you, Francesca. I’m in love with you.”