“Why don’t I stop by later with the file?” Ms. Breathy purred.
Liam dragged his gaze off Penn. “No, I—”
The woman leaned into him. “I don’t mind, I can—”
“Yes, yes, Marilyn. We all know what you can do. How about you unhook your claws and run along?”
Ms. Breathy blinked, then glared at Penn.
Liam took the file the woman was holding and slapped it on Eleanor’s desk. “You can go.”
His tone finally got through, and her pouty lips pouted even more. She swiveled and stalked off.
“Close call.” Penn held a file and a takeout coffee cup. “Another second, and I’m pretty sure she would have shed that dress and asked to have your babies.”
“Good morning,” Liam said.
“I’m Penn Channing, from Marketing. I’m new.”
“I remember you from the Nightingale House event, Ms. Channing.”
She smiled. “I really do have a contract for you to sign.” She held up the file. “For the Taunton budget.”
“Leave it on the desk,” he said.
Penn’s smile widened, and against his will, his gaze dropped to her lips. Normal ones, no filler in sight, and perfectly shaped. He felt a pulse in his gut.
He frowned. He’d seen far more beautiful women than Penn from Marketing, but something about her—the intelligence in her eyes, the confidence she exuded—was intriguing.
She also didn’t look like she was calculating his bank balance.
“The thing is, Lisa needs it signed now, and then I have a meeting to get to.” Her lips twitched. “I come bearing bribes, although it seems kind of boring now, compared to Marilyn’s offer.”
He raised a brow.
She held out a coffee cup. “Caramel macchiato.”
Shit. “Deal, hand over the coffee.” He took the file, opened it. He’d already been over the Taunton budget at home last night after he’d had a drink with Zane, Monroe, and Mav.
He scrawled his name, then handed the file back to her and took the cup. Her fingers brushed his and Liam felt a tingle. He saw Penn frown.
“This is much better than Marilyn’s offer,” he said.
“Her name is Roberta,” Eleanor said dryly. “She works in Purchasing.”
Well, he’d been wrong on all counts.
Penn took the file. “Thanks.” Without a pause, she turned on her heel.
Strangely, Liam didn’t want to let her leave.
“Wait, is your meeting on the Borden Project?”
She glanced back over her shoulder. “Yes.”
“I’m heading there, too. We can walk together.”
For the first time in a long time, a woman didn’t look thrilled to spend time with him.
Damned if Liam didn’t like it.
Aspen
Walking down the hall, I was highly conscious of Liam Kensington behind me.
He was even more gorgeous up close and personal, wearing his custom-tailored blue suit, gray shirt, and blue tie. The tie made the bright blue of his eyes stand out, and his golden hair gleam. But it was the strong line of his jaw where my gaze lingered, and the sharp angle of his cheekbone. He’d been cleanshaven at the Nightingale House fundraiser a few days ago, but he had stubble today. I swallowed. I liked it.
Then I noted he was looking down, and my belly clenched. Wait, was he looking at my ass?
Then his gaze flicked up and met mine.
I felt the jolt. He emanated a sense of power and authority, with a dash of arrogance. Damn, the man packed a one-two punch.
A deep woof echoed down the corridor. I saw Liam frown. I heard another woof. What in the world?
We swiveled and I spotted a giant Saint Bernard bounding toward us.
I froze. I wasn’t exactly a dog person. I’d been bitten by one doing surveillance on a cheating husband once. This one was big.
Really big.
And moving at full speed, a leash trailing behind it.
Liam shoved his coffee at me. I grabbed it, just as he stepped in front of me.
The dog did an expert dodge around Liam and jumped. Its paws hit me in the chest and I sucked in a shocked breath. I fell backward.
Strong arms caught me and my arms flailed. The dog jumped down.
My file went flying one way, and the coffee cup slammed into Liam’s chest. Its lid flew off, and coffee spilled all over the fine gray fabric of his shirt.
Shit. It had to be hot. Without thinking, I pivoted, snatched a water bottle off a desk nearby and then tossed the water on him.
It caught his face and soaked his shirt.
He blinked, water dripping down his cheeks.
Oh. God. I’d just thrown coffee and water on a billionaire.
He arched an eyebrow. “I wasn’t wet enough?”
“I was worried the coffee would scald you!”
The dog, clearly still excited, circled us, barking.
The leash had become tangled around our legs, and I felt it go taut. “Watch out—”
“Shit,” Liam barked out.
He fell backward and I pitched forward.
He landed on his back and I landed smack on top of him. My mouth hit his, and our teeth clicked together.
I wasn’t sure if I was embarrassed, horrified, or some other emotion that should make me want to crawl into bed and never come out.
The scent of coffee was strong, but under it, I picked up a masculine cologne—the woody smell of sandalwood. I had a sandalwood candle and it was my favorite.
He cupped the back of my head. “Are you all right?”
“Actually, you make a pretty good place to land.” I winced. “Crap, that might have come out wrong.”
He smiled.
I was up close and personal with that sexy smile. My lips just inches from his. His hard body stretched out under mine.
Then a furry head stuck itself in our faces and started licking.
Ew. I tried to push up and heard Liam grunt.
“Watch that knee.”
Shit. I tried to fend off the very-happy-to-see-us-dog, and not emasculate Liam Kensington at the same time, and felt something well up in my chest.
“Don’t you dare.” Liam brought us both up to sitting. I was practically in his lap.
Laughter burst out of me. I was laughing so hard, my chest hurt.
Liam shook his head, but he was smiling. He gripped the dog’s collar. “You, sit.”
The dog sat its huge butt down, tongue lolling in a size-large, doggy grin.
“I…you…” I couldn’t control my laugher. “Mr. Kensington—”
“Since we’ve been horizontal together, and kissed, you should call me Liam. And I’ll call you Penn.”
My laughter broke off. “We didn’t kiss.”
“Lips touched. That’s a kiss.”
“It is not!” The very last thing I needed to be thinking about was kissing Liam Kensington, in the middle of a damn undercover investigation.
A male assistant appeared, racing down the corridor. When he saw us, he skidded to a halt, horror reflected in his wide eyes. He looked at the dog, at us on the floor, at Liam’s wet, coffee-stained shirt.
“Sir, I am so, so sorry. Mrs. Newhouse is here for an investment meeting, and she insisted on bringing that monster…I mean, dog, with her.”
“It’s fine, Richard. No harm done, except for my shirt.”