Chapter 114: I Fancy You! [FIXED!][07/08!]
The drive from The Herons Nest toward The Azure Heights was draped in a heavy, suffocating silence, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the tires against the damp asphalt. Liam kept his hands steady on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the road, but his peripheral vision was locked onto Mrs. Harriet. She was leaning back against the leather seat, her head tilted slightly toward the window, staring out at the blurred lights of the Seattle outskirts.
He was still processing the fact that she had come alone. For a woman of her stature, leaving her driver behind was an anomaly—a calculated risk. But as he glanced at her, he realized it wasn’t a risk to her; it was a necessity. She could summon a fleet of cars with a single phone call if she truly needed one, but tonight, the anonymity was her only sanctuary.
Liam noticed she was spaced out, her eyes vacant, lost in a labyrinth of thoughts that clearly didn’t involve the business settlement they had just finalized. The air in the car was thick with the scent of her expensive perfume and the lingering musk of the wine they had shared. He could feel the tension radiating off her—not the electric, sexual tension from the restaurant, but something heavier. Something melancholic.
He knew that if he tried to push for a physical advance now, he would lose her. He had almost crossed a line earlier with the “little secret” comment, and the icy wall she had erected was still standing. To break it, he couldn’t use lust; he had to use empathy. He had to address the void that Richard had left in her life.
“I know things might seem tough with your husband,” Liam began, his voice low and steady, cutting through the silence without shattering it. He didn’t look at her, keeping his focus on the winding road.
“It isn’t my place to offer advice, but from the outside looking in… I believe you have the ideal partnership on paper. But it’s lacking passion because neither of you wants to communicate with one another. You’ve both built fortresses around yourselves.”
He expected her to snap at him, to remind him of his place, or to shut the conversation down with a sharp legal rebuttal. Instead, she remained silent. She didn’t even blink. She was listening, absorbing his words like a parched earth absorbing rain.
Liam took a breath, deciding to peel back a layer of his own armor to build a bridge toward her.
“I don’t know much about marriage, or long-term relationships. I was played by a woman who thought she loved me—or perhaps she just loved the idea of who I could be for her. But that experience taught me one thing: a woman needs to have her needs met. Not just the material ones. Not the jewelry or the status.”
He slowed the car as they approached a red light, finally stealing a glance at her. Her profile was stunning, the moonlight catching the curve of her jaw and the softness of her lips.
“It doesn’t matter if she is as amazing and beautiful as you, Mrs. Harriet,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, becoming more intimate. “At the end of the day, you’re a lady. And a lady who is ignored is a lady who begins to fade. I can see you fighting that fade.”
Mrs. Harriet finally turned her head, her eyes searching his. There was a vulnerability there that she never allowed the world to see. Liam realized in that moment that he had been approaching this like a game of seduction, focusing on the physical prize. He had forgotten that she was just as emotionally neglected as she was physically. The hunger in her wasn’t just for a touch; it was for recognition.
“And I would be lying if I said I didn’t find you incredibly attractive,” Liam continued, his honesty acting as a catalyst. “Vanessa… I know you sent her to seduce me. I know the game you were playing.”
Harriet’s eyebrows arched slightly, a flicker of curiosity crossing her face. She knew Vanessa had failed, but she hadn’t known the specifics of why.
“There was a reason she failed,” Liam said, pausing briefly as the light turned green. He accelerated smoothly, the engine purring. “It is because she isn’t my type.”
He paused again, the silence stretching for a heartbeat, building a crescendo of tension.
“You are,” he added.
He didn’t stutter. He didn’t hedge. He delivered the line with a level of absolute confidence that made the air in the car feel suddenly thin. Mrs. Harriet didn’t respond, but he could see the way her chest rose and fell more rapidly beneath the lace of her dress.
“But I also respect your marriage,” Liam added, his tone shifting to something more solemn, yet no less intense.
“But I do want you… Not just tonight, if I’m being honest, but every other night. And truth be told, I don’t care about the consequences that follow. Because I believe you’re worth the consequences.”
The delivery was perfection. It wasn’t a plea; it was a declaration. He wasn’t asking for permission; he was stating a fact of his existence.
Mrs. Harriet looked away quickly, staring back out the window, but Liam didn’t miss the faint, ghost of a smile that touched her lips. For a fleeting second, he had reminded her of a younger Richard—the man he had probably been before power and arrogance had hollowed him out. The rest of the ride was quiet, but it was a different kind of silence. The ice hadn’t melted, but it had cracked.
When they finally pulled into the driveway of The Azure Heights, Liam was surprised to find the parking lot nearly full. It was an exclusive boutique hotel, and while he had checked the availability earlier, the surge of guests was unexpected. He assumed Harriet would have the connections to bypass any inconvenience—a phone call to the manager, a mention of her husband’s name—and the world would bend to her will.
However, as they entered the lobby, it became clear that Harriet was committed to her invisibility. She didn’t want the manager to recognize her. She didn’t want her name in a ledger that could be audited by a suspicious Arthur.
They approached the front desk, where a polite, middle-aged receptionist with a prim bun and a sterile smile greeted them.
“Welcome to The Azure Heights,” the receptionist chirped. “Do you have a reservation?”
“I do,” Liam replied, providing his details.
Harriet stepped forward, her voice soft and carefully modulated, devoid of the authority she used in the courtroom. “And I would like a room for the night as well, please. I didn’t have the chance to book in advance.”
The receptionist tapped away at the keyboard, her expression shifting to one of apology. “I’m afraid we are nearly at capacity, ma’am. We have one room left, but… well, it’s a standard suite. It’s quite small, and the heating in that wing has been temperamental. It’s certainly not our usual standard for guests of your… appearance.”
Liam looked at Harriet. He could see the flicker of annoyance in her eyes. The room described sounded like a closet compared to the luxury she was accustomed to. It wasn’t fit for her, and the process of checking in would require her to provide a government ID, leaving a digital paper trail that she was desperate to avoid.
The tension between them flared again. Liam could see her hesitating, the conflict between her need for a bed and her need for secrecy playing out on her face.
Liam stepped in, his voice smooth and audacious. “Actually,” he said, glancing at Harriet with a daring glint in his eye. “My room is one of the executive suites. It’s spacious, has a separate lounging area, and most importantly, it’s already paid for under my name.”
The receptionist looked between them, a hint of a smile touching her lips.
“If you’re concerned about the trail, Harriet,” Liam whispered, leaning closer so only she could hear, his breath warm against her ear, “you can just stay in my room. No ID, no ledger, no one knows you’re here. You’ll be a ghost.”
The suggestion was bold. It was a direct invitation into his private space, a move that bypassed all the boundaries she had spent the last hour reinforcing. He knew she had told him she was a married woman. He knew she had shut him down. But he also knew that the emotional seed he had planted in the car was growing.
To his utmost surprise, Harriet didn’t recoil. She didn’t lecture him on propriety. She looked at the receptionist, then back at Liam, and gave a slow, measured nod.
“That would be… the most practical solution,” she murmured.
The receptionist beamed. “Very well. Mr. Liam, your key is right here. Enjoy your stay.”
As they walked toward the elevator, the atmosphere shifted once more. The “practical solution” was a thin veil for the reality of the situation. They were going to spend the night in a single room, alone, in the dark.
Liam didn’t push. He didn’t make a comment. He simply held the elevator door open for her, his eyes lingering on the sway of her hips as she stepped inside. He knew that on the surface, she had accepted the offer for the sake of secrecy. But as the elevator doors slid shut, trapping them in a small, mirrored box, he could see her reflection.
She wasn’t looking at him, but she was acutely aware of him. The words he had spoken in the car—about passion, about needs, about her being worth the consequences—were resonating within her at a frequency she couldn’t ignore.