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His gaze moved from her lips to her eyes, searching, filled with patience, desire, and something else she hoped she saw but didn’t dare to admit.

“Yes,” she finally breathed out. “I want you to kiss me.”

That was all Liam needed. His lips parted. He pressed his left hand against the small of her back, drawing her closer. His free hand traveled along her jawline to cup the back of her neck, then he finally closed the distance between them.

The moment his lips pressed against hers, Claire knew she’d made the right decision. His kiss was soft, yet firm, commanding every ounce of her attention. Could this be reality? Was she, Claire Frost, truly kissing a Brit in a red telephone box in the middle of London?

His lips pressing tenderly against hers illuminated the truth, but Claire just didn’t do this sort of thing. Melody did. And yet, as Liam leaned his head to the side, deepening their kiss, she couldn’t help but think that Melody had gotten it right, and Claire had been wrong all along.

Kissing a man she’d just met was sheer euphoria.

His beard, though rough, wasn’t scratchy as she’d thought it might be. Instead it tickled her skin and sent pleasant chills up and down her back, pushing her to clasp the arms of his jacket to keep herself steady.

The chill from outside was lost to her as Liam removed his hand from her neck, sliding his fingers along her waist as he encircled his arms around her beneath her coat. He held her tightly, as if he had no intention of ever letting her go.

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck as she stood on her tiptoes, hoping to gain better access to his lips. Their mouths pressed together like the pages of a closed book, holding the promise of a love story in its purest form.

This kiss, it was pure perfection. Just like Liam.

She had known this man for a mere fraction of a week, and already, she was witness to the difference between Liam and every other man she’d ever known. She’d never been held in such a way, so tenderly, so sweetly.

And now she knew that she was in more trouble than she thought.

* * *

Liam couldn’t breathe, so he breathed in Claire instead. His desire to kiss this woman was stronger than anything he’d ever felt in his life. What was it about her that made his mind spin, his heart swirl, and his stomach burn with desire?

He’d stated earlier, and she’d agreed, that there was nothing between them. But that was a lie. There was something between them. Something raw and real and beautiful. Something sweet. Something…perfect.

Which was exactly why he should pull away to end the agony before it could worsen.

And yet, he continued to cradle her in his arms, pulling her more tightly against his body. He needed to feel her, to taste her, to connect with her so he could remember all of it forever—how perfectly she fit in his arms, how soft her fingers were in his hair, how flawless her kiss was against his lips.

How he wished they’d met under different circumstances, how he wished they lived closer to each other, how he wished for a lot of things. But life was never simple.

And as that reality settled heavily on Liam’s shoulders, he did the impossible and broke off his kiss with Claire.

Slowly, he pulled back, quelling his desire to continue by resting his brow against hers. He didn’t want her to think he hadn’t heartily enjoyed the kiss, but the right words refused to come. “That was…”

“Yeah, it was,” she finished.

They stood that way for a moment, their foreheads pressed lightly together until Liam pulled back, staring into her eyes. “We should probably be heading back.”

She nodded in silence, and he led the way out of the telephone booth, holding the door open for her as the night air accosted them once again.

With a sober expression, Claire buttoned her coat as they moved down the pavement. Liam did his best not to become discouraged, but her actions were like an omen. A sign just for him to let him know reality had finally returned.

Knowing the more he put off speaking with her, the worst it would become, Liam drew a deep breath. “We probably shouldn’t have done that.”

She nodded, her gaze focused ahead, hands tucked in her coat pockets. “Yeah, probably not.”

Silence pulsed uncomfortably between them.

“It was nice, though,” she said.

A half-smile pulled at his lips. “Very nice.”

She returned his smile, though she still didn’t meet his gaze. “But…but we’ve already talked about the different lives we have. Different countries. Different work responsibilities.”