She was right about him having the space. With his apartment taking up the entire top floor of The Overview at Bear Creek, Liam had nearly three thousand square feet to work with—which wasn’t something he could say for Jaz’s place. In fact, when he’d stepped foot in her place earlier in the day, the studio’s claustrophobic feel took him by surprise. If not for the designer items and high-end sporting gear, Jaz’s apartment was the kind someone from his family’s background would live in—not the daughter of Hollywood’s top producer.
Liam looked around his living room, noticing a Kindle—in a pink leather cover—now clashing with his minimalist emerald-green design, while her coconut scent seeped through the apartment. He hoped to hell he wasn’t getting himself into more of a problem than he could handle. At least Liam’s ferns had survived the invasion intact. The plants, such as they were, suited him perfectly. Like his friends who had everything from kids to German shepherds in their homes, Liam craved having something living around him—and had settled on several potted fern plants and spread their leaves generously.
Except now he was going to have ferns and Jazmine Keasley.
Somewhere behind him, Liam heard Jaz thanking the men who’d helped move her things and closing the door behind them with a click. “So, where is the red room of pain?”
Liam turned away from the window, where downtown Denton Valley sprawled against the backdrop of the Colorado Mountains. “Red room of what?”
“Haven’t you read Fifty Shades of Grey? I mean, where do you take all the women who beg you to hurt them? I wouldn’t want to walk in on something by accident.”
Thirty seconds alone and she was already prying into that part of his life. Liam was discreet, but he hadn’t kept his sensual preferences from his friends—and he knew that Jaz knew as well. So much for hoping that common courtesy would prevail.
“I don’t play in the house, so don’t worry about it,” he said flatly. The fact that he wasn’t playing at all nowadays was none of the woman’s business. He pointed to the front door. “Here are the rules: The dead bolt stays engaged at all times. Brief me the night before on your agenda. You control the daily activity, I set the security. No games.”
Jaz walked over to the kitchen and hoisted herself up to sit on the edge of his island countertop, her crop top swaying just enough to show a tanned midriff. Her feet were bare, and her manicured toenails shone with a bit of sparkle that wasn’t unlike the bits of stone in the quartz countertop on which she sat. Crossing her thighs, Jaz flicked the tip of her tongue between her lips and gave Liam a coquettish flicker of long lashes. “I’d never play games with you.”
Fuck. Despite knowing full well that Kyan’s demon of a baby sister was just pushing buttons on purpose, Liam still felt all the blood in his body rush down to his groin. The pulsing sensation was so intense, his jeans suddenly so tight, that for a moment, the pressure made him outright light-headed. He was a SEAL and a professional, but he was still human, and something about Jaz Keasley made his body rebel against his better sense. It always had. The woman had been his kryptonite since teenagehood—which was why Liam had always kept his distance from her.
Now, distance was impossible, and Liam’s hands itched to wring her neck for this move. Her lovely, long neck.
Jaz curled a strand of hair around her finger. “But so long as we are talking about rules and expectations, I did have some questions… What are you going to do if I have a doctor’s appointment? Say, a gynecologist. Will you go in for the exam?”
Seriously? Fine. He could wait this out. Eventually, Jaz would run out of steam. “I’ll stay in the waiting room.” Liam crossed his arms. “Next question?”
She smirked. “Those seats are usually reserved for boyfriends and husbands.”
“If someone asked, I’d tell them I’m your brother.”
“That just sounds incestuous. What if I go on a date?”
“I’ll find a table at the restaurant where I can keep you in my line of sight. I’d also want you to choose a corner table.”
“What if my date and I want to have sex?” She leaned forward to say the word in a dirty way. “Can we agree that if you watch, you keep any commentary to yourself?”
Goddammit. And for a moment there, Liam thought he could still steer this conversation back to normalcy. He turned on his heels and attacked the coffeemaker with more vigor than it deserved. He wasn’t squeamish about sex, but that topic didn’t belong in the same thought as Kyan’s sister. “I’d consider it a personal favor if you strove for celibacy for two damn weeks.”
“That will be very difficult,” she said. “Will you be making a similar sacrifice?”
The woman got a kick out of goading him, but what bothered him most was how easily she succeeded at it. How he could never seem to get a solid read on her. He prided himself on his ability to take in any situation at a glance, assess the people and assets involved, boil down the variables, make a quick decision. He’d excelled at this throughout his time as a SEAL and while building his security business. But something about Jazmine Keasley eluded him.
Maybe he’d been going about this whole thing the wrong way. He’d tried the straight-up aloof professional route so many times, he was blue in the face. Maybe what he needed to get her to back off was a good offense.
Leaving the coffeemaker alone, Liam turned back to where Jaz still sat on the edge of the kitchen island and stalked slowly toward her. Braced his large hands on either side of her hips, not touching, but enough to invade her space. Then he leaned in, his shoulders spread, his internal dominating power pulsating through him. He was so much taller than Jaz’s petite five-foot frame that even in her perched position, he managed to look down at her. To let her breathe in his masculine scent of musk and fresh shampoo.
Jaz swallowed, her pupils widening slightly. She didn’t quite squirm, but Liam knew how to pay attention to the smaller signs. The tensed muscles. The shift of weight. The slight color that touched her cheeks. She was aware of him. Uncomfortably so.
Holding that pressure, Liam waited. Watched the indecision of whether to go nose to nose with him or ask him to back up warring in Jaz’s gaze.
“Am I supposed to be impressed, scared, or aroused?” Jaz asked.
Fighting words, but Liam could read her body language well enough to know she felt all three just then. She was just too competitive to admit it. To ask him to back off. So he didn’t.
“Two can play this game, Jazmine. Stop baiting me.” He let his voice drop to a thick, sensual gravel. “If you’re curious about power play, google it. You and I, we’re not friends. We’re not fuck buddies. We aren’t anything other than business associates. Your brother has saved my life more than once—I have a responsibility to him. So I will keep you safe. The sooner you stop acting like a spoiled teenager who didn’t get Daddy’s car keys, the smoother this will all be for everyone.”
Liam let the words simmer in the charged air between them for several heartbeats, then pushed himself away to finish making coffee. His heart was pounding, and though he went through the motions of grinding beans and turning dials, all his self-control was focused on breathing and staying still as he heard Jaz slip down to the floor behind him. The kitchen was empty by the time he let himself turn back to the island, and the uncomfortable sensation that he’d hit Jaz deeper than intended grazed unpleasantly along his chest.