Impossible (12 page)

“I think I'm in love with you,” he said softly, and she felt tears sting her eyes as he said it. She thought she would never hear those words again, and now he was saying them to her, and she didn't even know him, nor he her. Yet in her heart, she sensed that she knew him. She could sense the loneliness of his childhood and his vulnerability as a man.

“That's impossible. You don't know me,” she said softly, as the tears rolled slowly down her cheeks. They were tears for Arthur, and for Liam, and finally for herself.

“It is possible, and I do know you. And I want to know you better.” He had told her a lot about himself that night, and wanted to learn more about her.

“This is crazy, Liam.” She propped herself up on one elbow, and looked down at him, as he gently brushed the tears off her cheek in the moonlight. Everything he did seemed tender, loving, and kind.

“Maybe it is crazy,” he admitted. “But maybe it's what we both need. I know I do. And I think you do, too.”

“What, sex?” She sounded insulted. She wasn't going to be his one-night stand like Becky. Besides, this was ridiculous. She was his art dealer, not his girlfriend. They had been total strangers until today, and still were. What was happening to her? She felt totally adrift in an unfamiliar sea, swept toward him by a current that was much stronger than she was, and that she couldn't resist.

“This isn't about sex, Sasha. You know that, too. Or not just about sex. Although that was pretty good.” In fact, it had been terrific. Remarkably so, considering they were virtually strangers. It had been incredible for both of them.

“It can't be about love. We don't even know each other.”

“I hope we will,” he said gently. Above all he appeared to be a kind person, and an incredibly attractive man. Too much so for his own good, and hers. She was viscerally drawn to him, and realized now she had been from the moment they met. She had tried to ignore it, but couldn't.

“This is impossible,” she said again. “I'm your art dealer, and I'm nine years older than you are.”

“So what? Do you have rules about that, too?” He looked unimpressed by the difference in their age, which seemed unimportant to him.

“Yes, I do have rules about that. I don't sleep with my artists. I never have, and I don't intend to start now,” she said firmly, as though to remind herself.

“I think you just did. Besides, you were married then. The rules are different now.”

“So I'm going to start sleeping with my artists? I don't think so, Liam.” She was suddenly furious with herself, and before she could say more, he kissed her again, and ran his hands gently across her body. Every inch of her tingled when he touched her. She felt as though she was losing her mind over him. This time, she didn't even try to stop him. She wanted him even more than the first time, and afterward she lay in his arms and cried. This time they were tears of relief. He pulled her closer to him and put his arms around her and held her tight until she stopped. She felt as though a dam in her had broken, and she was flooded with emotions.

“I love you, Sasha. I don't even know you, but I love you. And I know I'm going to love you more in time. Just give me the chance.” He pleaded with her. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anyone, even Beth.

“This can never happen again.” Her words were muffled in his chest, and he smiled.

“Next time I promise I'll wear socks,” he said, never loosening his grip on her.

“I mean it, Liam,” she said softly, as she drifted off to sleep in his arms.

“I know you do, Sasha…I know you do…I love you anyway.” And as he kissed her hair scattered across the pillow, he smiled, holding her, and fell asleep. It was the first good night either of them had had in months.

Chapter 6

Daylight streaming
into Sasha's room at Claridge's awakened her and Liam at nine the next morning. He woke first, and lay holding her. And then, as though she sensed him watching her, she stirred. She could feel his arms around her, as he lay behind her, and for a minute, she didn't know who it was. And then she remembered. She closed her eyes and groaned.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said softly, and pulled her closer to him. She rolled over slowly and looked at him. They were nearly nose to nose, and he looked as beautiful to her in the morning as he had the night before. Her heart sank as their eyes met. She couldn't believe what she'd done. Just seeing him there, naked and handsome, with his long blond hair on his shoulders, his body warm next to hers, she knew she had lost her mind.

“This didn't happen,” she said firmly. But she couldn't bring herself to get up, or pull away from him. Everything about him made her want him even more.

“Yes, it did.” He laughed as he said it, looking enormously pleased with himself, and she thought she had never seen a man as beautiful as he was.

“We can't do this, Liam. It's impossible.” And it would never be any different. He would always be nine years younger than she was, which bothered her, no matter how little it bothered him, and he was an artist she represented. Even if she refused to represent him, he would still be too young, in her opinion. The age difference was more a matter of his state of mind and boyishness than the dates on their passports. And she couldn't refuse to represent him just because she'd been a fool. And an old fool at that. She felt like one now. She'd been starved for love, companionship, and affection, even sex. But that was no excuse for what she'd done. She was furious with herself, and even slightly with him. But not furious enough to get out of bed. Now, or the night before.

“It's not impossible, unless you want it to be. You said that last night, right before we made love the second time.”

“I was nuts. I plead temporary insanity,” she said, rolling over onto her back and looking up at the ceiling, to avoid looking at him. It felt so good to just lie there next to him, and feel like a woman again. But it was forbidden fruit she knew she couldn't allow herself to eat again. “Do you have any idea how crazy this is?” she asked, turning her face to look at him. His eyes were green and enormous, his face nearly perfect, but just imperfect enough to make him look like a man. He looked like an actor in a sexy movie. He needed a young starlet to costar in it with him, not a woman her age. She knew it, even if he didn't, or didn't want to. She knew it for both of them.

“It isn't crazy, Sasha. You're a woman, I'm a man. We like each other, we're both lonely. We have the same interests, we both live for art. What's so wrong with that?”

“Everything. I look, and feel, old enough to be your mother. You're a friend of my son's. I represent you. How's that for a start? And besides, you're still in love with your wife.” She hadn't doubted it for a minute the night before, as he told her the story of Beth and her evil twin.

“You do not look old enough to be my mother. You're a spectacular-looking woman, and you're only nine years older than I am. So fucking what? And I am not in love with my wife, anymore. Besides, she's no longer my wife. We're getting divorced. You and I are both free, unattached, lonely as hell, and over twenty-one. That sounds possible to me. What's your problem?” He looked mildly annoyed.

“I'm still in love with my husband,” she said sadly, but she didn't cry this time. Liam waited for a moment before he answered, and he touched her face gently with one finger when he did.

“Sasha, he's gone. You're alive, he's not.” She had proved that amply to both of them the night before.

“You have a right to be happy with someone. Me, or someone else. You can't hide yourself away anymore. It's not right.”

“Yes, I can.” She rolled over and turned her back to him, and still did not get out of bed. He couldn't see if she was crying, but he put his arms around her anyway, and pulled her close.

“Sasha, I know this sounds crazy. I hardly know you, but I think I love you. I feel like I've been waiting for you all my life.”

“That's insane,” she muttered, still turned away from him. But something of what he said rang true, even to her, although it made no sense. “We drank too much. It wasn't love, it was wine.” She tried to dismiss what had happened, but convinced neither him nor herself.

“Well, whatever it is, I want more of it. Why can't you just let this happen and see where it goes?” He was pleading with her.

“And then what?” She turned to face him again. She looked genuinely tortured by what they'd done. “Where could this possibly go? You need someone your own age. I'm older than you are, I'm your art dealer. I'm conservative, you're not. We'd be the laughingstock of Paris.” Particularly if he showed up at one of the functions she went to, with no socks and a painted shirt. She was a respectable person, with a serious life, and Liam wasn't. He was exactly what he said he was, a wacky artist, and he was Xavier's friend. Her kids would be totally upset if they knew, just as she was now.

“I don't want someone my age, Sasha. I want you.” And then he thought about it for a minute, and looked at her again. “Do I embarrass you?”

“You could,” she said honestly, “but I'm not going to give you the opportunity to do that. I'd look like a sex-starved old fool if I went out with you, Liam. This could never work.”

“Yes, it could. And you're half right at least. You are sex starved, but you're not a fool, young or old.”

“Yes, I am,” she said, looking miserable, and he kissed her then to silence her and cheer her up. She was beyond cheering, but not impervious to his touch, far from it. In spite of all her resolve and determination not to let this happen, or continue, she responded instantly to his touch. It was more powerful than she was. She had never experienced anything like it in her life, not even with Arthur, whom she genuinely had loved for more than half her life. But as Liam had pointed out, he was gone. And Liam wasn't. Within seconds, their bodies were entwined. And she moaned softly with pleasure as he began making love to her again.

It was quarter to ten on the bedside alarm clock when they finally lay breathless and sated in each other's arms.

“Oh my God,” she said when she saw the time. “Xavier will be here any minute. I'm having breakfast with him.” Liam laughed.

“Well, I'd better get my ass out of Dodge.” He unwound his long, lean limbs from hers, got up, and stood looking down at her. “I've never wanted any woman as much in my life. When can I come back?”

“Never,” she said sternly. “I'm leaving for the airport after breakfast. Liam, I mean it. This has to stop.” But the one she needed to tell was herself. She had never felt so confused and out of control in her life. She felt like she was on a roller-coaster ride to hell. She could imagine only the worst happening, and she couldn't let it. She had to get control of herself. “I won't let this happen again.”

“Then you are a fool,” he said sadly. “I don't believe you are. I'll call you tonight.”

“Liam, don't. I want to represent you. You're a fantastic artist, and you could have an important future. Let's just do that. Don't jeopardize it now.”

“Are you telling me you won't represent me if we're lovers? Because if you are, screw the gallery and the contract. You mean more to me than that.” They were powerful words, and he meant them.

“You're insane,” she said, sitting up in bed, staring at him.

“Possibly. My family thinks I am.” He was pulling on his pants and shirt as he said it. He didn't have time to shower. He knew he had to get out before Xavier arrived, or she'd never forgive him. “You decide, Sasha,” he said, looking down at her, as she stood next to the bed where they had made love three times. The three best times in her life. But she couldn't make this decision based on sex. She truly felt as though she had lost her mind. And she knew she had to find it again, and fast.

“Don't call me,” she said, trying to sound as though she meant it. She wanted to mean it, and knew she had to. Whatever this had been, it had to end, even before it began. “I'll get in touch with you about your work.”

“We can do both,” he said reasonably, and she shook her head, as he pulled her toward him for one last kiss. She was standing naked before him, shocked by how comfortable she was with him. After talking over dinner, and making love with him, she felt as though she had known him all her life. She was totally at ease with him.

“No, we can't do both,” she said, sounding desperate. “I won't be your dealer and your lover.” She also didn't want to be the older woman in his life. She'd never done that before and didn't want to start now.

He kissed her, and left without saying another word. She stood staring at the door for a long moment, fearing what could happen, and determined to put walls up between them. From that moment on, she told herself, she was his art dealer and nothing more. She rushed into the shower, and the phone was ringing when she got out. She was afraid it was Liam, but it was Xavier. He was just leaving his apartment, and said he would be there in five minutes.

“That's fine, darling,” she said calmly, as her hands shook. “I'm running a little late myself. I'll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.”

“Did you make all your calls?” Xavier sounded like he was in good spirits. He must have had fun the night before. She shuddered thinking of what he would think of his mother if he knew what she had done. She felt utterly debauched.

“What calls?” she asked, sounding distracted. “Oh…yes… those…of course…I'm just running a little late. See you in a few minutes.” She hung up and sat down on the bed, shaking. What she had done was insane. But the insanity was going to stop. She was a sensible person, and Liam was nothing more than a badly behaved overgrown boy, and had made a lifetime career of not growing up. She reminded herself, to frighten herself further, that he had committed adultery with his wife's twin. It was hardly a recommendation for his morality and good judgment. And no matter how beautiful he was, he acted like an irresponsible kid, and prided himself on it. So had she, she told herself. She had to be the grown-up here. Liam was incapable of it.

She threw what she had brought to London into a bag, dressed hastily, brushed her hair, and put on makeup. And fifteen minutes later, she was in the lobby when her son walked in, looking handsome and young. His stride and confidence and the way he dressed reminded her instantly of Liam. They were contemporaries in lifestyle, attitude, and behavior. Two wild young boys.