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Oddly enough, the more uncomfortable he grew, the more Claire’s confidence solidified. With an amused grin, she took the phone from Liam’s hand and placed it in the woman’s.

“We would love one together,” she said. “Thank you.”

She grabbed Liam’s arm and pulled him toward the wall of the bridge once again.

“Sorry,” Liam mumbled as he stood rigidly beside her.

Claire only smiled all the wider.

The woman looked at the phone, then shook her head. “Closer,” she said, motioning for Liam to stand nearer to Claire.

Liam blew out a breath, taking a minuscule step toward her.

“Closer, luv,” the woman said again.

“Just take the picture,” Liam mumbled under his breath.

Claire laughed. “Come on,” she said, sliding her arm under his and around his back. “She’s not going to let up until you come closer.”

He hesitated only a moment before draping his arm over Claire’s shoulders, then all at once, her confidence vanished.

“What a lovely couple,” the woman said to herself as she took the picture.

Claire’s mouth dried. Her heart hammered against her chest as if she’d just sprinted through the whole of London, heat pooling throughout her body. With the weight of Liam’s arm around her shoulders, the press of his fingers against her upper arm, and the smell of his tantalizing cologne wafting beneath her nose, she could no longer breathe.

She never should have pulled him toward her. But then, how was she to know she’d have this reaction to Liam—Liam, of all people. The guy who’d been so rude to her at the airport, who’d made fun of her over and over again, who…who had given up an entire day to take her around London just so she wouldn’t get lost. Who had laughed with her and bought her lunch and took her photo when she wasn’t brave enough to ask.

“There you go,” the woman said, finally lowering the phone and offering it back to Claire.

She and Liam pulled apart, and Claire took the phone with a gracious smile before the woman departed, leaving Claire and Liam to their own, silent discomfort.

Had he possibly felt the same pull to her as she had to him? The same quickening heartbeat and shallow breathing?

Swiftly, she rid herself of the absurd notion. Why would he be attracted to her?

As if to prove her point, Liam stifled a yawn, averted his gaze, and tucked his hands into his coat pockets. “To Trafalgar Square, then?”

She nodded, and the two of them made their way back across the bridge, the cold wind across the Thames no longer bothering her as heat continued to pulse through her body.

If only the bean and cheese melt had been the cause of such heat because she was all too aware of who the real culprit was.

THIRTEEN

After Trafalgar, Liam returned home with Claire to a quiet house. She gave a quick wave in departure, then slipped up the steps to her room, leaving Liam downstairs to edit a few of his photos from Kew Gardens, though his mind continually traveled over the last few hours he’d spent with Claire.

He was surprised by how much he’d enjoyed his time with her. They had both been on their best behavior, but toward the end of their day out, he’d begun to see what he believed to be was the true Claire Frost.

He smiled again at the memory of her song choice blaring out across the abbey, and the way her lips had twisted at her first taste of Branston pickle. He had to admit, she was a lot of fun to tease.

But then, that was the problem, wasn’t it? He shouldn’t be having fun with anyone. That would just make it all the harder to go back to the mundanity of his job next week.

Today would have to be the anomaly. And tonight, well, he would take part in simpler activities—updating his photography page, watching movies, going to bed early. All the things that wouldn’t be too difficult to say goodbye to once work started again.

Getting an early start on his so-called “simpler activities,” Liam popped up to his room for a quick kip, waking up in the late afternoon to voices downstairs.

Following the sound, he found Mum, Melody, and Claire in the sitting room.

All three women looked at him as he came around the corner, but his gaze settled on Claire first. She sat on the couch opposite his mum and cousin, her blue eyes peering up at him, her thick, blonde hair draped over one shoulder, just as it had when they’d been forced to take that photo together.