“Explain.”
“Let me rephrase,” she said. “No one’s ever said it likethat.”
“Like what?”
“Like they meant it…”
My eyes never left her face. “I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.”
She inhaled deeply, blowing out a breath. “The only time I’ve ever been called beautiful, it felt like whoever was doing it had ulterior motives. Like they were just saying it to get with me. Sure, men have told me I’m beautiful, but it always felt…calculated.”
“And I said it differently?” I asked.
“When you said it, it sounded so…genuine.”
“It was, Cerise. Youarebeautiful. And I don’t just mean how you look.”
I wanted to blurt out more. Wanted to tell her all the things I found beautiful about her. But something told me to take it slow. That I would scare her off if I came on too strong. So I would keep my feelings to myself—at least for the time being.
She turned to me, a small smile on her face. “Thank you. You vex me, Liam. I thought you would be a troublemaker.”
“Oh, I am.” I gave her a sly grin.
Her eyes crinkled. “Yes, but you’re a genuine person. You are truly yourself. You seem so free. And know how to be happy.”
“And you don’t know how to be happy?”
“I thought I did. But now it seems like I don’t know much about happiness at all.”
I leaned back on my hands, stretching out my legs. “All right, then. Tell me about it.”
“About what?”
“Where this is coming from. Because I have a theory.”
“And what’s your theory, Doctor Pendragon?” She looked at me with amusement but there was still something sad in those eyes.
“This is coming from your mother. Or Ambrose. Or both.”
She shook her head, huffing a disbelieving sigh. “Yes.”
“Let’s hear it then.”
“All right. Growing up, I was taught that success would equal happiness. And the only way to reach it was to be the best at absolutely everything. Utter perfection. As long as I can remember, there was a schedule. Order. No spontaneity, no fun. If whatever activity I was doing wasn’t either teaching me something or preparing me for my future, it was not allowed.”
I frowned. “What about playing? Did you play as a child?”
“Only in the ways it suited my mother. If she deemed it frivolous, I got in trouble. She used to tell me if I had time to play, then my lessons weren’t challenging enough. So she’dadd more.”
I was speechless. I knew her mother was ruthless, but not playing as a child? That was…horrific.
Cerise focused on the flowers again, rubbing the remainder of her exposed skin while I did the same. “So that’s how I’ve basically lived my life. Work work work. And I do enjoy my job. I love wildlife and research and teaching. But it’s never enough. Nothing is ever enough.”
“Enough for who?”
“My mother.”
“What about your father?”
