Twice In A Lifetime

“You really need to stop lying, Sarah. You’re rubbish at it.”

“Liam, I don’t think it is a good idea for me to stay here.” That much wasn’t a lie. It was a horrible idea. It was as clever as ripping off a scab just to pour acid on it. “I can’t afford a hotel.”

“Then it is lucky for you the new accent also came with a penthouse. Amazing the things you miss out on when you choose a life filled with addicts and prostitutes. You too could have had more than a cat and a two-bedroom terrace in Craigmillar.”

She pulled away from him and he did not stop her. “How do you know where I live?”

“I know a lot of things, Sarah. I must say I am disappointed—you couldn’t even make it a mile away from the scheme. You have got to learn to set the bar higher. You couldn’t even manage a new postcode.”

She clenched her jaw until her teeth began to ache. She wanted to scream but instead she took a deep breath and pushed her anger away. “Look, Liam I don’t want to be here and you don’t—”

“Stop telling me what I want and what I know. You don’t know the first thing about what I want.”

“What do you want, then, Liam? Tell me.”

Liam ran a hand through his hair again. His office was suddenly hot. He loosened his tie and undid his top button. What did he want? A good question, one he had been asking since she walked in. He wanted to taste her. He wanted to bend her over his desk and make up for lost time. He wanted to make her regret choosing Sam. He wanted to get her out of his system once and for all. He wanted to show her the life she could have had. But most of all he wanted her to regret choosing a life without him. And when it was all over, he wanted to not wonder about her any more, he wanted to stop caring so bloody much about a girl from his past. “I want you to stop fighting me on this.”

“What will it accomplish, me staying here? Other than winding each other up.”

“Consider it a holiday.”

“Ha!” she scoffed. “If it was a holiday I would have packed sun cream and condoms, and I would be with someone whose company I enjoyed.”

“I remember you enjoying my company quite a bit,” he said as he pushed back a strand of her golden hair that had escaped its clasp. The smooth skin on her cheek was as soft as he remembered. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about what else felt the same. “So lucky for you I have a medicine cabinet full of Durex and SPF thirty.”

Her eyes widened. It was hard to tell if she was surprised or angry; he would settle for either as long as it made her squirm. He had forgotten how much he loved making her blush. And he had loved that she gave as good as she got. They really had been good together. She would realise she had made the biggest mistake of her life by giving up on them. And this time it would be his choice when things ended. He wasn’t going to play the daft laddie again. He knew what he was getting into this time. He would have seven days to get her out of his system once and for all.

He picked up her case and led her to the door and past Gemma’s desk. “There is a lot to do in a week. Best get started now. Gemma, I am off. Please phone my driver and tell him I am on my way down to the car park. I am on my mobile if there is anything pressing, otherwise I will see you in the morning. Have a nice night.”

Gemma’s gaze darted to the clock on the wall. “What? I mean—but the American market hasn’t even opened yet.”

“Lucky my Bloomberg works at home too.” He smiled.

“Yes…of course… It’s just that you never leave before the market closes. I just thought…” She looked from Sarah to Liam and frowned.

“As stimulating as the closing bell is, I have more pressing issues to take care of tonight.”

Chapter Three

They were driven to a hotel ten minutes from the office. Even through tinted windows, the bright sun made Sarah squint. She noted the lack of pedestrians on the streets; everyone must have been indoors or in air-conditioned cars. She didn’t blame them—the air was so hot, she could feel her lungs drying out with each breath. Somehow the streets were lined with lush green gardens with bright pink and purple flowers; clearly there was not a hosepipe ban in effect here, unlike back home, where if it didn’t rain for a month everyone was told to stop watering their lawns and conserve water. It didn’t look as if there was much conservation of any sort going on here.

From the outside, the hotel looked like a course in modern architecture, all steel and glass, reflecting the sun. The inside was something entirely different; it was a case study in gaudy opulence. The floor was polished white marble, with thick crimson and gold rugs dotted about. Several massive pillars created a semi-circle, above which hung a chandelier the size of a grand piano, strung with thousands of crystals. Excess at its best. Covering the walls with dollar bills would have been more discreet.

A porter approached them and asked to take Sarah’s bag.

“No, thank you. She will be staying in the penthouse with me.”

The man nodded and gestured to the elevator.

“Nice place, not unlike the block we used to call home,” she said without looking at Liam. She was too busy taking in the garish surroundings; even the elevator had gold buttons. “Except back home someone would have stolen these by now. If there is graffiti in here, I would swear we were back in Scotland,” she said as her fingers brushed over the cold metal.

The elevator door opened. “Wow,” she said before she could stop herself. The walls facing out of the elevator were made of glass allowing one-hundred-and-eighty-degree views of the city and marina.

“Which one is your office building?” She could not remember which way they had driven.

“That one.” He pointed at a tall building just past a structure that looked like stair steps.

Liam took a key out of his wallet and placed it against the control panel on the interior wall.

“Good evening, Mr McPherson,” an automated voice said in a crisp English accent as the door closed.

“Did the elevator just speak to you?”

He nodded.

“If she could hand me my slippers and an Irn-Bru, this would be a decent holiday.”

“I don’t think you can get Irn-Bru in Dubai. Not that I have ever tried.”

“I don’t know which is more sad—the fact you have never tried to buy an Irn-Bru here, or the chance they might not have it.”

“I haven’t had an Irn-Bru in years.”

“Remember the time we went to Portobello and drank vodka and Irn-Bru on the beach until three in the morning. Sam was so sick, he could not stand up, and you carried him on your back the whole way home because we didn’t have money for a taxi.”

The muscles in his jaw tightened. “I remember.”

The elevator door opened to the penthouse. To Sarah’s relief, the decor looked nothing like the foyer; it had clean minimalist lines. The walls were painted a crisp white and the floors were a simple polished oak. At the opposite end of the room there was a glass wall incorporating patio doors that led to a massive balcony with a full-size swimming pool and a hot tub. Her entire flat could fit on the balcony. She resisted the urge to say wow again, but that word kept repeating itself over and over in her mind. She had known Liam had done well for himself, but she didn’t really understand it until now. He really had made it. For an inexplicable reason it made her happy and sad at the same time. She wished she had been able to see him achieve it. He had wanted this life for ever. She was happy he had made it, so why could she not get rid of the nagging feeling of disappointment? Maybe it was because he had changed so much to achieve it. The Liam she knew would not have blackmailed her. He would have helped Sam because it was the right thing to do.

She shook off the sudden sentimentality. She might not want to be here but she was determined to enjoy the next seven days. She had not been on holiday for far too long, and, like it or not, this was as good as it was going to get. “I wish I had brought my swimming costume.”

“Just go naked. I do,” he said. A smile played on his full mouth. He looked far too much like her Liam when he smiled.

She swallowed hard to dislodge the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. It was far too easy to picture his tanned, lean form, naked in the clear water. She knew from memory, even the sight of him shirtless was enough to leave her breathless.

She shook her head to try to dislodge the image.

“No one can see you,” he assured her.

“You could see me.”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before. If it helps, I am imagining you naked right now.”

“Stop that.” She swatted at him, missed his arm, and her hand connected with the hard wall of his stomach.

“Still feisty as ever. You can take the girl out of Scotland, but you can’t take Scotland out of the girl.”

“Too right. Now please stop thinking about me naked.” Her cheeks were growing hotter by the minute.