Page 175 of Lethal Torture

“Allow me.” Taking her glass, I head down to the galley and make a jug of decent margarita. “It saves us the walk,” I say as I emerge, then fill her glass.

“Excellent idea.” Liana touches her glass to mine. “And you just officially became my favorite sister-in-law.”

“And your only one,” I say, laughing.

“Well, that too.” She props her sunglasses on her head and smiles at me. “But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true.”

I duck my head, mildly embarrassed.

“Thank you for getting married over here,” she says quietly. “It meant the world to Tommo and me.”

“Oh, not at all.” Now I’m definitely embarrassed. “Neither of us wanted a big wedding. The beach was perfect, with just you two and the boys. It was exactly what we both wanted.”

“I doubt that.” Liana touches my hand. “But thank you, anyway, for doing it.”

I’m being entirely honest. Three days ago, Luke and I stood on a remote Australian beach at sunset, surrounded by nothing but white sand, red stone, and turquoise water the color of Luke’s eyes, and said our vows before his family and a civil celebrant called Turbo, who also happens to be a bikie and one of Luke’s oldest friends.

I wore a simple silk slip. Luke wore an open-necked suit that made me want to devour him. Liana played cello, Tommo rigged up fairy lights that twinkled on the beach long after dark, and the boys made spicy margaritas. It was the most perfect wedding I could ever have imagined. I still can’t stop looking at the photos of us all on my phone. There we are, on the beach at dusk, sun-kissed and windswept, laughing into the camera as the sun sets over the water and a full moon rises over the dunes behind us.

Never, in my wildest imaginings, could I have pictured myself in a shot like that even a few months ago.

“Did Luke ever tell you,” I say, turning to Liana now, “about when I first saw your photo in his apartment?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Luke has a photograph of me in his apartment?” She sounds genuinely touched, and for thehundredth time, I marvel at the contradiction that is Luke: his enormous open heart and the small, intimate vulnerabilities he never shares.

“Oh, yes. In a frame by his bedside. There’s a picture of you with Luke on the beach. He’s in a wet suit, carrying Ollie on his shoulders.”

“I know the one.” Liana nods. “Tommo took it a few years ago, when we were all down at Luke’s beach shack.” Her mouth tweaks at one end. “I never knew he had that in a frame at home.”

“Well, he does.” I turn my margarita in my hands. “Problem was, the first time I went to his apartment, I didn’t know who you were. Luke wasn’t home. He gave me the access code and told me to wait inside.” I shoot Liana a sideways look. “I went and spied, I’m afraid.”

“Girl.” She clinks her glass to mine. “Ofcourseyou did.”

I laugh. Liana is incredibly easy to like. “I saw your photo, and I’m afraid I didn’t react very well.”

“Oh, dear.” She starts laughing with me. “I can imagine. Nothing like finding a photo of another womananda child on your boyfriend’s nightstand.”

“He wasn’t actually my boyfriend back then, which made it even worse.” I roll my eyes. “But the reason I brought it up was because when I looked at that photograph, all I could see was that Luke had a whole life that could never include me. Even after he told me that it was his sister in the photo, it still felt like a world that had no place for me in it.”

Liana sits up, her smile fading, and pushes her sunglasses back on her head, staring at me with the same wide turquoise eyes as her brother. “I hope you know that isn’t true,” she says quietly.

I nod. “I do. But when you said just now that you’re sure that wedding wasn’t what I wanted?” I lift a shoulder. “Nothing couldbe further from the truth, Liana. That wedding was like a fantasy to me. One I could never have imagined being part of. It was the most perfect day of my life so far.”

I look away from the tears that suddenly spring into her eyes, swallowing on the lump in my throat.

She covers my hand with her own and squeezes it tightly, and we both gulp extremely large mouthfuls of margarita.

When Liana speaks again, her voice is a little raspy. “Around the time you and Luke met,” she says, “he called me to say he wouldn’t be coming home like he’d planned. I’d set him up with a friend of mine, so I wasn’t too happy with him. Sorry,” she says, with an apologetic look that I wave away. “Anyway. I was trying to tell him that the right girl would see him for who he was, and Luke cut me off, far more brutally than he ever had before. He said it was time we both stopped pretending he was a good choice for any of my friends, because he didn’t think he could ever be a good choice for anyone. He said he didn’t have a life that was set up for a wife and kids.” She shakes her head, her expression pensive. “It absolutely broke my heart,” she says quietly. “I hung up that phone and almost booked a ticket to London the same day, I was so worried about him. I’d never heard him sound so... lonely before.”

My heart thuds painfully, and I’m not sure I could speak even if I wanted to.

“And then he met you.” Liana turns to me, the sun making her eyes glitter the same turquoise as the sea. “And suddenly, I could hearLukeagain. For the first time in years he sounded alive and excited. And then the next thing I knew, he was bringing you back here to marry you.”

“That must have been a shock,” I say tentatively.

“It was.” Liana smiles at me. “Right up until I laid eyes on you,” she says quietly, squeezing my hand again, “and saw the way Luke looked at you. And then, learning about your business,about all you do...” She shakes her head wonderingly. “It all just made sense. And seeing Luke now, how happy he is, how utterly fulfilled—it makes my heart break all over again, but in a good way.” She leans in and kisses my cheek. “We have you to thank for that,” she whispers. “And believe me when I say I’m forever grateful.” Her mouth tightens slightly. “I’ve been terrified for years that we’d lose him to some pointless war or protecting some idiotic politician.”

I bite my lip, looking away from her. “I don’t know exactly how much Luke has told you,” I say hesitantly. “But my life is every bit as dangerous as any war. More, maybe.”