Liar Liar Read online Donna Alam

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 167759 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 839(@200wpm)___ 671(@250wpm)___ 559(@300wpm)
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Lowering his naked self beside me, he takes my hand in his. ‘No one privy to your pay increase will breathe a word of it to anyone.’

‘That’s beside the point, Remy.’

‘Is it? That’s what you’re worrying about, isn’t it? What people will think. What they’ll gossip about.’ He doesn’t say it, though I hear them anyway. They’ll say you earned it on your back. ‘You need to stop worrying about other people’s opinions. To have interest gives them power, and power is not something you give. It’s something you take.’

‘That’s easy for you to say.’

‘It’s just all a matter of practice.’

‘I don’t need a raise. Can you see how uncomfortable it makes me feel?’

‘An increase in pay is a drop in the ocean of what’s due to you.’ I open my mouth to speak but catch myself at his entreating look. ‘There are some things that I can’t tell you yet—I will tell you. I’ll tell you everything when the time comes, and I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need you to trust me. To have faith.’ His hands tighten on mine, as his gaze dips to where our fingers meet, as though he could gather strength from the sight. When his head rises once again, his green eyes glitter with intensity. ‘I want to look after you, Rose. Like you’ve looked after me. I want you to let me love you like you deserve. Your pay increase stands. You’re good for the company.’

‘I’m good company, or good for the company?’

‘You’re excellent company, and you’re good for me.’

‘These things you aren’t telling me? Are they . . . are they going to hurt me?’

‘I want to say I won’t let you be hurt, but the truth is, nothing worth having comes without a little hurt. So instead, I’ll say this to you. If I ever do or say anything that may be construed as hurtful to you, something that leaves you confused in the interpretation, I promise you I mean it in the way that will hurt or offend you least.’

‘You’re going to try not to hurt me.’ But is that enough?

‘I promise you with my life.’

Yet I still have to push away a sense of foreboding

* * *

The Omega watch store on Place du Casino is busy for a Wednesday afternoon, filled with boomer-aged German tourists. I don’t have an appointment, but I’m only picking up, so I won’t take up too much of their time.

I spot a space as a rotund sixty-something moves over to peruse the watches in a different case , smiling as I approach the counter to muscle my way in.

‘Hi, Yuri. I dropped off a repair last week. I wondered if it was ready to pick up.’ So far, I’ve bought five watches from Yuri, though obviously not for me, meaning we’re on pretty good terms.

‘Oh. I’m not sure.’ Her black brows wing up, her expression disconcerted. ‘Was it the older watch with the brown strap?’

‘Sounds like the one.’ I smile to cover the pinprick of discomfort I’m currently experiencing. She’s not sure, but she knows it has a brown strap? I hope to God they haven’t lost Remy’s grandfather’s watch. I mean, it’s not like he’s asked for it since he took a tumble into the marina, but that’s doesn’t mean to say he won’t at some point. He’s been wearing a Rolex Daytona model lately that I know costs fifty thousand euros because a client ordered a similar one last month. Meanwhile, I took it upon myself to get his old watch fixed. I thought it would be a nice surprise, but if I’ve got to tell him it’s now lost, I’ll be more than mortified.

I also won’t be buying him a new one. Not at a Rolex price bracket, anyway.

‘Can you wait just a minute? I’ll go and ask Pierre.’

‘Sure.’ I move over to the side of the store as the boomer returns to the same case. Holidaymakers seem to have flooded the principality, and though I haven’t been here very long, I’ve tired a little of the place. The cafés are so busy it’s almost impossible to get served these days due to the numbers of summer day-trippers bussed in from other parts of the Riviera. They come to take selfies in front of other people’s parked Ferraris and Bentleys. Or maybe I’m not so weary and just more partial to the place in the mountains I now call home.

The peace and seclusion.

The man who finds me there.

Remy hasn’t mentioned ownership of the house again. He seems satisfied that I call it home. Which is exactly what it feels like, and I love the way he smiles when I say so. We’ve slept in the same bed together every night since he checked himself out of the hospital. I want to smile so wide when I think about it because sleep isn’t the only thing we do.


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