“Hmm, I guess I can give you a few days.” There was a significant pause. “He hasn’t swayed you with a better deal, has he, Penn?”
I laughed. “No, but maybe I should let him.”
“I’ll be watching you. You have three days. Get it done.”
The line went dead.
“Well?” Liam asked.
“I’m not sure he’s one-hundred-percent convinced, but he’s given me three days to get you to sign the deed.”
Liam nodded. “So we have three days to find out why Nexus wants that land, find a way to lure out Doyle, and rescue Jake Knox.”
“He’s suspicious, Liam. He said he’d be watching.”
“So, I need to look like a madly infatuated man.”
I raised a brow, hiding my true reaction, because I wondered what it would be like to have a man like Liam infatuated with me. “Think you’re up for the task?”
“I think I can manage.” He rose. “Especially since I can’t keep my hands off you.”
“Don’t let reality and fiction blur, Kensington.”
“How about I do something out of character, and escape work early with my new lady love.”
“We can’t be seen in public, Liam. If we were photographed together—”
He nodded. “Someone might discover that you’re actually a private investigator moonlighting as a white-collar criminal, and blow your cover.” He stroked his chin. “We’ll go to my place. We can canoodle by the windows for anyone who’s watching.”
I considered. “That’ll work.”
“Good.” He grabbed his jacket and slipped it on. “All right, Ms. Irresistible, let’s go.”
My eyes narrowed. “Are you making fun of me?”
His eyebrows rose. “How?”
“I’m hardly irresistible.” I was well aware that I was attractive, and I had my strengths, but I’d never use irresistible as an adjective to describe me.
That maddening smile appeared on his face. “Women always profess that men don’t understand what makes them tick, but the same is true for the reverse.”
I frowned, confused.
He leaned closer, that sexy scent of his hitting me.
“You have no idea what I find irresistible, Aspen. I can’t wait to show you.”
I pressed a palm to his chest, felt the warm skin under the fine fabric. “Remember, us being in lust is just for show.”
He headed for the door, sending me a charming smile. “Speak for yourself.”
When Liam informed Eleanor that he and I were leaving for the day, his assistant looked like he’d beaned her with her desk phone.
He showed me to his Aston Martin, and soon, we were driving to his place. It took me about thirty seconds to spot the tail.
“We’re being followed.” I glanced casually in the side mirror.
Liam flicked a glance at the rearview mirror. “White Ford.”
“That’s it.”
We stopped at a red light. Suddenly, Liam leaned over, grabbed me and kissed me.
Oh, God. I forgot my name. He was too potent.
The light changed, and a horn honked behind us.
My pulse was still racing as he drove onward.
We finally reached his place. I knew he lived by Madison Square Park, not far from my apartment, but I wasn’t exactly prepared.
He pulled up at a gorgeous, Neo-Gothic building on Fifth Avenue. A valet driver in a suit rushed out to meet us and opened my door.
“Welcome.” The man smiled at me.
Liam circled the car. “Good afternoon, Marc.”
“Hi, Mr. Kensington.”
Liam handed over the keys, and then ushered me inside. He whisked me through the lobby, and I got the impression of brown marble and gold accents, and then we were in a private elevator. The building had twenty-one floors.
“Which floor are you on?” I asked.
“The top three.”
The top three? “Penthouse?”
He nodded.
When the door opened, I stepped inside and tried to keep my jaw from hitting the floor. Holy cow, I’d interacted with a few wealthy people before, but this was next-level.
“Wow. You’re really, really rich.”
“I am.” He set his keys on a side table.
My first impression was space. The ceilings were high, the windows were huge. The floors were a pale wood, and the furnishings were all shades of cream. God, I’d spill something on that pristine upholstery. I knew it.
I could see the Flatiron Building and the park, the city beyond it. Liam strode across the huge living area to the kitchen. He set the file on the Bronx property on the lake-sized island made of white marble, veined with gray.
“Should we stand on the terrace?” he suggested. “If anyone is watching, they might spot us. We can give them a show.”
I glanced out at the terrace. It was walled in with sleek outdoor furniture. It looked private.
“Not that terrace, the upper deck,” he said. “More chance of being seen.”
“You have two terraces?”
“Yes.” That wicked smile.
“You’re enjoying this.”
“Being close to you is no hardship.” He echoed my own words. “Glass of wine?”
I nodded. I wouldn’t normally drink, but I needed it to settle my nerves.
He pulled a bottle of something from his huge Subzero refrigerator. It took him a second to open it, then he grabbed two glasses from a cupboard. He poured the pretty gold liquid into the glass and then poured one for himself too.
“Come on.” He handed me a glass, then took my hand.
His hands weren’t soft. I found it surprising that he had calluses. He led me up some stairs, and I stared at the huge, draping chandelier in the void space. He opened the doors onto a huge terrace.
“This is incredible,” I breathed.
There was a fire pit off to one side, surrounded by comfy chairs. Some sun loungers lay on the other side of the terrace, along with a large carved statue made of black stone.
But the most impressive thing was the view of downtown. It was breathtaking.
“Do you have a pool?”
He pointed over the glass railing. I glanced down at the pool on the level below.
I wanted to weep. I loved my apartment, but I’d trade it for Liam’s place in an instant. Although, I’d definitely add more plants if I lived here.
We stood at the railing, and I stared at the Kensington Group building in the distance, then I scanned the street far below.
“Can you see anyone?” he asked.
I glanced around casually, like I was taking in the view. “Not from up here, but they’re likely there, somewhere, with a telephoto lens aimed our way.” I sipped the wine, then moaned. “Oh my God, this is so good.”
“Glad you like it.”
“What is it?” If I memorized the name, maybe I could grab a bottle next time I needed wine.
“It’s Château d’Yquem.”
I paused. “That sounds expensive.”
“About five hundred dollars for this bottle. But it gets more expensive depending on the vintage.”
I choked on my next sip. “Seriously?”
“Drink up.” He leaned in, his fingers dancing over my temple. “You really think someone’s watching?”