Summary: Liam gets jealous during the engagement tour.
Note: Not canon.
Liam is jealous. It’s a foreign feeling for him, and he’s starting to understand why people behave so irrationally when they feel this way. Allie circulates the ballroom of the manor they’re currently visiting on the engagement tour, socializing with the various nobility and diplomats and blending in seamlessly. She’s handled the entire situation remarkably well, but it still pains him that she has to deal with it. He just wants to take her away, to say damn his responsibilities and let himself get swept up in her.
His fists clench as he watches one of the noblemen approach her, kissing the back of her hand politely and murmuring something to her. She smiles at him and nods, and he sweeps her onto the dance floor. Liam doesn’t know the nobleman’s name, doesn’t care, but he does care that his hand is low on Allie’s back and that he gets to dance with her without a care in the world. Liam grits his teeth, jumping when Madeleine grips his forearm.
“Perhaps we should join our guests and dance, dear,” she says. Her calm voice belies her obvious irritation.
“Of course,” Liam responds, taking her hand.
He twirls her a few times, smiles politely at people as they pass by them, tries to ignore the way Allie is smiling at the man she’s dancing with. Liam feels a small puff of pride that her smile is her reserved, polite one, not the genuine one she gives Liam when they’re alone, the one that makes her eyes crinkle and light up. The song ends, and Allie excuses herself, the nobleman’s eyes lingering on her as she strolls over to the table she’s sharing with the Beaumont brothers.
Liam forces himself not to stare at her, focuses on Madeleine and keeping up appearances. Madeleine releases him after a few songs, pressing a kiss to his cheek when she notices Adelaide looking at them, then walks off. Liam sighs and snags a glass of champagne from one of the servers circulating through the room.
He notices Allie slip out of the room later in the evening, and, when he’s certain no one is paying attention, slips out shortly after her. The silhouette of a figure is barely visible down one of the darkened hallways, and Liam walks on near silent feet over to her.
Allie turns when he approaches her. He’s overcome by the sudden need to touch her, kiss her, can’t stand the thought of someone else having had their hands anywhere on her. Liam grabs her hand and drags her through a doorway just down the hall, scanning the room quickly to make sure it’s empty, then locks the door.
“Liam, what are you-mmmph!”
She’s cut off as Liam presses her up against the door, his lips rough and hungry against hers. She’s stiff in his arms at first, and he knows she’s probably thinking about the room full of people down the hall.
Kissing her more insistently, he pulls away just long enough to whisper, “I’ve been wanting you all day”, and he feels her groan as she gives in.
Her hands slide up his chest and around his neck. Liam pulls her flush against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He feels like a man possessed, out of control with wanting her, needing her.
“Liam,” she moans, tugging at his dark hair as he moves his lips down, sucking and biting at her neck.
He can’t leave any visible marks, he realizes, so he wrenches his lips away, feels her gasp as he bites her lip and tangles his tongue with hers. His hands move of their own accord, bunching the silky fabric of her dress in his fingers. He releases his grip and reaches for her zipper, sliding it down and pushing the straps over her arms and lowering it to her hips.
Liam sighs as she’s bared to him, gentling his mouth and running his hands over her, cupping her breasts. His eyes darken as she whimpers and he feels her nipples harden under his touch. Her fingers drift over the buttons on his shirt, undoing them with shaking hands. She pushes the shirt over his shoulders, untucking his undershirt and watching through hooded eyes as he pulls it over his head.
Their bare skin pressed together almost has him coming undone, he’s so desperate for her.
“Oh, Allie,” he whispers, pressing his lips to the side of her neck.
“My love,” he murmurs, moving his mouth to her jaw and then back to her lips.
“Mmm,” she sighs.
His hands drift down, sliding her dress lower, and his fingers tighten in the waistband of her underwear when he feels the delicate lace.
“This is what you wear to these gatherings?” he says with a low groan.
“Sometimes.”
“Fuck, Allie. How am I supposed to be around you, knowing you have these on?”
She doesn’t answer, closing her eyes and resting her forehead on his shoulder as he dips his hand into her underwear, her name a moan on his lips when he feels how wet she is for him. He eases two fingers into her, her hips moving in time with his hand, and his ego swells at the sound of his name on her lips.
He’s so consumed by the feel of her, his need for her, that he barely registers at first why she starts pushing against him frantically and claps her hand over his mouth when he goes to ask her what’s wrong.
A flash of understanding goes through him as he hears people loudly approaching the room they’re in, and he freezes, hoping to god they keep going. The voices grow quieter, and Liam breathes out a sigh of relief as whoever it is keeps walking.
“Oh my god,” Allie says, pushing him away from her, a horrified look on her face as she pulls her dress back up. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
She reaches around awkwardly for her zipper, Liam reaching over automatically to help her. There are tears glistening in her eyes, and he feels terrible. Liam tugs his undershirt back on quickly, then his dress shirt, and takes her in his arms.
“I’m sorry, Allie. God, I’m so sorry.”
Allie is silent against him, but he’s relieved when she relaxes into his embrace. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “I just…I saw his hands on you and I couldn’t stand it.”
Allie lifts her head up. “Who?” she asks in a quiet voice.
“Whoever that was you were dancing with earlier,” he murmurs, swaying with her, brushing her hair out of her face.
Allie frowns. “He was nobody. Just someone who asked me to dance.”
“I know it’s ridiculous,” he sighs. “I just…I was…”
“Jealous,” she murmurs.
“Yes. I want to be the one dancing with you and whispering to you and making you laugh,” he says, trying to control the frustration in his voice. “I hate this. I hate that you’re going through this.”
He pulls her head back so he can look her in the eye. “I just want to take you away from all of this. All I want is to be with you, really be with you.”
“I want that too,” she murmurs. “But I’m not yours, Liam.”
His heart sinks, and she cups his face in her hands. “That came out wrong. I just mean…technically you’re engaged. And I’m an eligible single woman. It would look suspicious if I turned down every offer to dance, or talk.”
“I know,” Liam admits. He knows that for her safety, and the sake of their investigation, he has to play the role of the newly engaged king, and she has to play the role of the former suitor, now eligible and trying to get back in the court’s good graces.
“I just don’t want to lose you to someone else,” he confesses. “I know that’s not fair to you. But the thought of it…” he trails off.
“You’re not going to lose me to someone else,” Allie whispers.
She steps back, and he feels the loss of her warmth acutely. “But we can’t do things like this,” she says. “I feel horrible enough sneaking to your room. I know you don’t consider me the other woman, Liam, but technically I am.”
“I don’t want you to feel this way,” he says miserably, running his hand over his forehead. “I wish I could change things, right now.”
“Me too.”
Allie sighs. “We need to get back.”
He wants to protest, pull her back in his arms and kiss her and tell her how much he loves her, but he knows that will only make her feel worse. So he smiles gently, squeezing her hand before she peeks out the door and slips out.
Liam waits a few minutes, alone in the dark with thoughts of running away with her, then heads to the bathroom just down the hall. He washes his hands methodically, then splashes cold water over his face, staring at himself in the mirror. With a resigned sigh, he straightens his collar out and makes his way back to the ballroom.