CHAPTER 2 – ARRIVING IN CANTERBURY

It was already late afternoon when Chatrine arrived in Canterbury. She parked her car in front of Liam’s gallery while the sky above the city glowed in a brilliant shade of orange. The dry summer wind carried dust through the air, sharp enough to sting her nose. Chatrine quickly pulled out a handkerchief before sneezing violently.

“Hah-tshh!”

“Hah-tshh!”

“Hah-tshh!”

Three times in a row.

Only after the third sneeze did she finally adjust to the air. Her cheeks had turned red, and tears shimmered faintly in her eyes.

“Oh, God…”

Chatrine was not a woman accustomed to dust and grime. Yet the beautiful blonde refused to abandon her ridiculous determination to chase after a carpenter.

“What time is it?” she muttered, glancing at the expensive watch around her wrist.

“Why is it already closed?”

From the outside, the gallery looked silent. The front doors were tightly shut. But Chatrine’s sharp hearing caught the familiar growl of a wood-cutting machine coming from the warehouse behind the building.

“Of course,” she murmured. “He’s still working.”

She was completely certain that a man like Liam loved his work and a pile of timber far more than any summer holiday.

The warehouse stood attached to the back of the large two-story concrete gallery. From the front, the main building resembled an elegant art showroom with wide glass walls. But the moment Chatrine stepped past the parking gate, the atmosphere changed entirely. The beauty of curated art disappeared. There was only dust, scattered planks, the damp scent of wood, and the endless roar of machinery.

She brushed at her skirt, though it was pointless. The wood dust clung stubbornly to the fabric almost immediately.

“Dear God,” she muttered under her breath. “This isn’t Denton Global. It’s the A****n rainforest covered in sawdust.”

With confidence that felt only slightly forced, Chatrine walked along the side of the building toward the enormous white warehouse whose paint had begun peeling away with age. The doors stood wide open. The scent of sawdust drifted freely through the air and nearly triggered another sneeze.

Fortunately, she managed to hold it back.

It would have been humiliating to start sneezing in front of Liam.

The warehouse was vast, lined with towering shelves stacked with wooden boards of every size. Fine dust floated through the air, glowing softly beneath the late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the high windows near the ceiling.

And there, in the middle of the room, Chatrine saw Liam working.

The cutting machine roared while sawdust spiraled around him. His gray flannel shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to his broad chest and powerful back. Sweat glimmered along his muscular arms, every vein visible as he pushed a heavy plank against the spinning blade. His dark brown hair was messy and damp, strands sticking to his temples while others fell across his forehead.

Chatrine stopped walking.

For a moment, she could only stare.

“Oh, God…” she whispered, though the words were meant more for herself than anyone else.

How had she come this far for an infuriating carpenter?

The worst part was that Liam never even tried to be attractive. No expensive cologne. No Armani suit. No polished smile like the men in the city. He was simply a grown man working with rough hands, tense muscles, and sweat running down his skin.

And somehow that made Chatrine want to scream in frustration.

She clenched her teeth.

This was the same man who had once called her cheap.

And now she was standing there like a foolish teenage girl hopelessly in love with the captain of the basketball team.

Damn it.

Liam truly was handsome. Painfully handsome. But Chatrine knew it was not only his appearance that pulled her in. He challenged her. That was the problem. She could not understand why her heart still pounded every time she looked at him, even after he had insulted her pride so mercilessly.

She stepped farther inside. Her heels clicked sharply against the dusty concrete floor, the elegant sound clashing strangely with the rough atmosphere of the warehouse.

Liam shut off the machine, wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm, then turned toward her.

Their eyes met.

His gaze was cold and questioning, carrying the sharp honesty of a man too blunt to hide his dislike.

“What important matter made you wander all the way here?”

Chatrine Denton, polished and sophisticated, was apparently being accused of wandering around aimlessly.

The blonde woman lifted one shoulder with perfect elegance.

“I want you to delete all my files,” she said firmly, using it as an excuse.

Months ago, Liam had found her flash drive containing confidential work documents and several scandalously personal photographs.

Liam merely smiled faintly.

“You’re lying, city girl.”

Chatrine stared at him in disbelief.

“What?”

She was lying about her reason for coming, but Liam was not supposed to see through her that easily.

“You could’ve waited in the gallery,” he said calmly. “There was no reason for you to come into a filthy place like this.”

“I wanted to see you immediately,” she argued.

But Liam remained unmoved.

“You’re still lying.”

Chatrine nearly threw her clutch bag at his face.

What made everything worse was the fact that her mind kept noticing the way Liam’s arm flexed when he set the machine aside. Honestly, was God entertaining Himself by making her fall for the most irritating man alive?

“I followed your order to stay away from Aron Loghan,” Chatrine finally admitted. Her voice came out softer than she intended.

Liam remained silent, waiting for a reasonable explanation.

But nothing about Chatrine’s behavior was reasonable anymore.

“I resigned from my job because of you.” Her voice cracked slightly at the end, making her want to bite her own tongue for exposing such humiliating weakness.

Liam’s eyes widened briefly, though his lips remained tightly pressed together.

“I lost my job and my career. Now I only want one thing. Delete every file you kept.”

She still used the files as her excuse.

After all, Liam really had threatened her with those secrets before, forcing her to stay away from Aron Loghan, her impossibly wealthy, devastatingly handsome, married boss. Liam had called her a cheap woman because he believed she was sleeping with him.

After a long silence, Liam finally spoke.

“You seriously came all this way just for those files?”

“Yes,” Chatrine answered immediately, too loudly, as though she needed to convince the entire world that she still had control over herself, even while her heart pounded like a war drum.

Then Liam delivered an answer so absurd that her mind nearly stopped functioning.

“The files never existed,” he said flatly. “I lied to scare you. Now go home.”

Chatrine froze.

The files… never existed?

So all this time…

She had been deceived.

She had spent countless sleepless nights terrified because of the fake threats of a carpenter.

If this was not the highest form of romantic stupidity, Chatrine no longer knew what qualified.

And the most humiliating part was that she could not even bring herself to hate him for it.

Liam turned the machine back on and continued working, ignoring her completely while she remained frozen near the doorway.

“Why are you still standing there?” he shouted over the noise of the machine.

The question echoed inside Chatrine’s mind as well.

Why, Chatrine?

Why are you still here?

Was it because the memory of Liam’s kiss still burned inside her head?

Or because his arms had felt impossibly strong when he swung an axe?

Oh no.

Chatrine screamed internally.

What if she had truly become an idiot?

What if she had actually fallen in love?

“Don’t tell me you’re trying to apply for a job at the wood gallery,” Liam suddenly mocked.

Chatrine blinked.

“Yes.”

The machine stopped immediately.

Liam turned toward her so quickly that his expression became a strange mixture of shock, disbelief, and restrained laughter.

“What?”

“I’m unemployed now. Why not?” Chatrine lifted her chin stubbornly, though her voice sounded dangerously close to that of a depressed woman trying not to collapse.

Liam’s stare sharpened, clearly judging the terrible sense of humor possessed by city women.

“I understand marketing. I have connections that could expand your business. I learn quickly. I can work at the gallery.” Chatrine continued listing her qualifications with absolute seriousness.

Liam cut her off with a flat expression.

“I can’t afford to pay you.”

Chatrine almost laughed bitterly.

But she refused to give up now.

“Then give me a three-month trial,” she declared recklessly. “You don’t have to pay me at all.”