He makes it a promise, and while I’m nothing more than an assignment to him, there’s heat in his words. Is it possible he wants to kiss me? Not because that’s what he’s been ordered to do, but because he might want to as well?
“I’m not dressed to go clubbing.”
“Luv, we’re in New Orleans, you fit in just fine.”
“I’m wearing a suit.” I run my hands down my body while Liam snickers. I’m garbed in business professional gear: a modest skirt, silk blouse, and a suit jacket.
“You have no idea, do you?” He cocks his head, flagrantly staring at me.
“About what?”
“How hot you are?”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I hate the way I blush. It’s too revealing, broadcasting my emotions to anyone and everyone around me.
“You’re a knockout.” Liam takes a step back and folds his arms across his chest. He takes his time checking me out. “Ditch the jacket. You don’t need that.”
I peel off the jacket. Liam takes it, folds it gently, and places it on the massive entry table standing in the middle of the foyer.
“Definitely hot.” He tilts his head and cups his chin. “There’s nothing about your clothes, your shoes, or your jewelry that’s flashy and screams money, but the absence of it broadcasts class. You pull that off well.”
“That’s the result of years of finishing school.”
“Is that even a thing anymore?”
“If you’re my mother’s daughter, it’s that and more. I was the kid who went from karate to finishing school, and only then hit the books.”
“Karate?” His brows tug together. “Got the rainbow?”
“Huh?”
“The rainbow of belt colors?”
“Maybe.” Why does his comment make me defensive? Angry?
Insulted?
Because it’s dismissive, that’s why. I’d say something, but I don’t need to defend my abilities. He can think what he wants, but my training is extensive.
Maybe he forgot what happened in the van?
It’s what my father demanded. He didn’t want his only child, a girl at that, to be defenseless. I’m well versed in how to handle a weapon as well as defending myself against multiple attackers.
What I’m not prepared to handle is the man standing opposite me.
Rainbow of colors, my ass. I’ll show Liam what I can do.
21
MARIA
“Come here.” Liam’s voice dips to the lower registers.
It’s a swoon-worthy sound that makes the butterflies in my belly take flight. They flit around, anxious little things, waiting for what comes next. Meanwhile, I’m barely holding on, too terrified by recent events to take a breather.
My perfect little world lies at my feet; a million shards of lie piled upon lie. There’s no way to put it all back together.
My life’s a ruinous disaster.
“Maria?” Liam’s voice washes over me.
That expressive face of his fills with compassion. I detect a hint of sorrow tugging at the corners of his eyes, although I don’t know what he has to be sad about.
Christ, his eyes will be my undoing.
“Shouldn’t we get moving?” I rub sweaty palms on my skirt, a nervous mannerism I wish I could stop.
“There’s no rush.” Liam’s gaze casts over my shoulder. “We have all night.”
“That’s what scares me.” I tuck my chin and mumble.
“Here. Let’s try this.” Liam grabs me by the waist, then pulls me close until we’re a hairsbreadth away from each other.
My hand goes to his chest, to the steel beneath his skin, where I push against him.
I can’t breathe standing this close.
“Not like that.” He lifts my hand off his chest.
The skin of his hand is rough, the palm and fingers calloused from hard work. One breath pulls his unique scent deep into my nostrils. It’s not cologne or overly scented deodorant. He smells good: dark, mysterious, and uniquely Liam.
“Put it here.” Gently, he places my hand on his shoulder. “Put your other hand on my shoulder as well.” He bends his knees, stooping down to my eye level. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want. If kissing’s off the table, it’s off the table. There are many ways for couples to be intimate.”
“When you say intimate, what do you mean?”
“I see the fear swirling in your eyes, princess, but relax. Like I said, nothing happens that you don’t want.”
I’m glad he says that.
“We want your family to think we’re together, but we’re only putting on a show in public. The engaged, not-engaged thing is something we can discuss. Does that help?”
“Maybe?”
“For the next few minutes, I want you to trust me.”
“Why?”
His low chuckle lifts the corners of my mouth into something almost masquerading as a smile.
“That’s not trusting. It’s questioning.” Liam playfully presses his finger against the tip of my nose, teasing me.
“I’m inquisitive by nature.” I cock my head to the side and look up at him through the fringe of my thick lashes. It’s a coy look, one which never fails me. I use it to get men to do what I want, only it slides right off Liam.
He tilts his head back and his husky laughter rolls over me with pure devastation. I should count myself lucky he’s willing to hold me in his arms. Outside of the catastrophe which has become my life, I’d never have a chance with a guy like Liam.
“I’m going to try something.” Liquid warmth. That’s what his voice sounds like. “We haven’t given you any time to stop and think about what’s happened. Unfortunately, we don’t have time for slow and easy. I need you to pretend we aren’t complete strangers. For the past six months, we’ve been secretly dating, which means we hold hands. We get in each other’s personal space. We laugh. We hug. And we kiss. I’m going to kiss you, and I’ll try my best not to slobber.”
“I didn’t—”
“Trust me.” Mirth swims in those magnetic eyes of his. “But try not to slobber on me, okay?” Liam’s having fun with me. “Loop your arms over my shoulders.”
“The car’s waiting. Shouldn’t we go?” I glance out at the car patiently waiting in the drive.
“Don’t worry about the car.” Liam places his finger beneath my chin and gently turns my head back to him.
“I hate making anyone wait.”
“If we go out there with you stiff and standoffish around me, we lose before we begin. I promise, I don’t bite.” His lips twitch with that comment telling me he does exactly that. “It’s one kiss. A trial run, minus the slobber.”
My hesitation must be new for him. I’m surprised he’s not more frustrated than he is.
I can do this.
I take in another deep breath and blow it out nice and slow. “Hand on your shoulder?” I place my hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t make it sound like a chore, princess. You might actually have fun if you let yourself go.”