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Claire didn’t know what had come over her. Perhaps it was the magic the Christmas Market had swirled within the air, or the sugar from the hot chocolate getting to her head.

Or maybe, just maybe, she was simply overcome with euphoria as she earned smile after smile from Liam—all because she was finally being herself.

Whatever it was, she was going to chase that feeling of joy because it didn’t come very often.

SEVENTEEN

Liam never should have brought Claire to the Tower of London, nor should he have encouraged her to see the Christmas Market. He’d known from the minute she’d fallen into him on the train that every moment he would spend with Claire Frost that evening would be a struggle, and he’d been absolutely correct.

Not a struggle in the normal sense, with the two of them arguing and losing patience with one another. But a struggle in that he could no longer deny his attraction to her. A struggle in that every time she spoke passionately about flowers or her job, every time she skirted around her struggles with her parents, he became more and more intrigued by everything she said.

And that just wasn’t going to work for him.

He’d done his best that night to relax, to allow himself the freedom to just enjoy his time with this spunky, unique woman who liked listening to AC/DC and watching Star Wars and Harry Potter films.

But his trepidation continued to rear its head. He didn’t have time to like anyone, nor the energy to carry on a long-distance relationship. But surely this tiny, minuscule, inconsequential crush he’d seemed to develop that afternoon would fade as soon as morning came. Melody would be better. Claire would spend the day with her. Mum would be back at work. And Liam would be allowed some time to himself to take photos.

So maybe tonight he could relax. Maybe tonight, he’d allow himself to flirt and converse and be happy. Perhaps Heaven knew he needed this momentary joy after the week—and years—he’d suffered with very little happiness at all.

“Did I weird you out?” Claire asked, clearly misreading his silence.

“No, you haven’t weirded me out,” he finally said, mimicking her word, the r’s sounding strange on his tongue. “I’m merely trying to grasp what you said. And the fact that you’re telling me that you’re in love with a man hired out to kill people. Sorry, no. A fictional man hired out to kill people.”

She grinned in response. Why was it so satisfying to make her smile?

“Unless,” he continued, “you’re saying the actor is attractive and not the actual Mandalorian?”

“Oh.” She seemed to think for a minute. “Well, Pedro Pascal is definitely easy on the eyes. But I think I prefer Mando.”

He laughed, surprised with her response. “You can’t even see his face.”

Then she looked at him like he was mad. “With a helmet like that, who needs to see his face?”

He’d always heard that women loved a man in uniform. He supposed Mandalorian armor could count for that, as well. “Alright, walk me through this. How can a helmet be attractive?”

She peered straight ahead, focusing on nothing in particular, apart from the image she clearly had of Mando in her mind. “Well, when it’s combined with those amazing pauldrons over his broad shoulders, and of course that cape just billowing in the wind, he’s already a keeper. Then you take into account the helmet, which has all your basic, typical ‘hot guy’”—she did air quotes with her fingers—“features. The ones women swoon at, you know? Nice, angled jawline. Defined cheekbones. Heavy brow. Narrowed eyes. You just can’t get better than that, you know? If a guy has all those features, I know I’d kiss my willpower goodbye.”

She finished her explanation, grinning up at him as he watched her with amusement. But as their eyes connected, her gaze roving over his features, her smile suddenly faltered, and a blush blazed across her freckled cheeks.

She tore her gaze away, pointing out the Tower of London across the river. “Oh, look. There’s the Tower again.” Then she veered off course and headed toward the barrier between the pavement and the Thames.

Liam followed slowly behind her, completely aware that she was changing the subject, though he had no idea why or for what reason her demeanor had changed so suddenly.

Unless…Had she been thinking that maybe Liam possessed some of those features that she found so irresistible? Or had she realized that he was nowhere near what she wanted in a man?

Both possibilities made his chest tighten for reasons he didn’t wish to explore.

Joining Claire near the stone barrier, Liam quietly sipped his hot chocolate as the world slowed around them. A fog had rolled across the river and now hovered above, blurring the tips of the bare tree branches in the darkness and cloaking the world in a hazy color.

Down the pathway lit with spherical lamps, a street musician played out “Silent Night” on his violin, and a ferry floated down the river, his lights reflecting in the river’s ripples.

In that slowing down, Liam’s thoughts had a moment to catch up with him, and they weren’t exactly pleasant. How could this woman be the same one from the airport? How could he have misjudged her so greatly?

Now, more than ever, he regretted his cruelty toward her.

He took a deep breath, leaning over the edge of the railing. “Claire,” he began, her eyes on him in an instant, though he couldn’t meet her gaze in return. “I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but I just…I want to apologize for how I treated you at the airport.”

She tilted her head to the side. “You already did.”