Page 91 of Corrupted Pleasure

“I keep my family safe,” he replied, unperturbed by my tone. It was as if he’d read my thoughts. “At all costs. And you are mine now too.”

Then he stood up, extending his hand.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured softly.

It was then that I realized I was already a goner for this man. Because as I put my hand in his, a startling realization settled in the pit of my stomach.

Anywhere he’d go, I’d follow. Anywhere he’d be would feel like home.

CHAPTER39

Davina

The moment we entered his penthouse, I slipped off my heels and sighed in relief.

Liam headed for the minibar. He was dressed in a black three-piece-suit and I had to admit, being the first time I’d seen him in a suit, he looked handsome. Now, I couldn’t decide whether I liked him in a suit or jeans better. The man was smoking hot.

From my spot at the doorway, I leaned against the door and watched him twist the top off a bottle of cognac. Cognac Brugerolle. Another bottle that cost over one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

“Jesus,” I muttered. “How much money do you spend on cognac?”

He turned around and raised the bottle with his one hand, while he held two glasses in his other.

“My most expensive cognac,” he announced. “Today is the perfect day to open it.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “That bottle is worth one hundred and fifty grand.”

A smile pulled on his lips. “How is it that you know so much about brands of alcohol?”

I shrugged. “My grandpa owned a liquor store.” He didn’t seem surprised. “But you knew that already.”

“He taught you brands of alcohol?”

“Sometimes, I’d help him out in the store after hours.” Truth was that my grandfather should have retired a long time ago, but he kept working for me. So he could support me. “He was too old to keep working, and I liked to help him and be around him as much as I could.”

“What do you know about your parents?” he asked.

I had a feeling Liam might already know my story and somehow I resented it. I didn’t like anyone knowing my parents abandoned me. It always made me feel unworthy. Inadequate. Even before I could learn to talk, they found me unworthy to stick around for.

“It was just my grandfather and I,” I told him quietly. “I know my mother’s name and absolutely nothing about my father.”

I refused to lower my eyes. My brain knew it wasn’t my fault, but emotionally, it was hard not to look for a deficiency in myself.

“It’s their loss,” he said, his eyes seeing too much of what I’d hidden for so long that it became a part of me.

“Your mother or father didn’t abandon you,” I retorted and to my horror, my voice sounded slightly bitter.

“They didn’t,” he agreed. “But my mother fell ill when I was still very young, so I barely remember her. And my father was very absent for a long time after losing the love of his life. He wasn’t much of a father to my sister and me once my stepmother died. So I was left to care for my much younger sister.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered. I couldn’t even imagine loving someone so much that you couldn’t continue living without them. Not even for the sake of your children.

I shifted, eyeing the windows. It was better to stare into the windows, no matter how scared I was, than into his eyes, letting him see the insecurities that always plagued me when it came to my parents.

He returned to the task at hand and placed two glasses onto the bar table, then poured cognac into them. He strode to me and handed me a glass.

“I’ll put something on these windows,” he mused. “I can’t have my wife lingering in the doorway.”

His wife.It still struck me as surreal. I’d jumped on a speeding train and there was no safe way to jump off anymore. Not that I wanted to. Which was even scarier.