by Lori Wilde
He had taken his anger at Finn Delancy out on her, and he had no idea how to make amends.
Maybe you shouldn’t make amends. Maybe youshould leave well enough alone. She’s obviously embarrassed that she mistook you for this Richard dude, or she wouldn’t have run off. Let it go.
But Monday afternoon, when he still hadn’t been able to concentrate, he was starting to get concerned. He’d never been stymied like this. He didn’t like it. To clear his head, he went for a jog in the park, but it didn’t help.
Finally, not knowing what else to do, he telephoned Tony.
“Red Sox are playing tonight,” Liam said. “Wanna go?”
“Just you and me?”
“Yes. Unless Jess wants to come.”
“She’s over at her sister’s helping her redecorate her living room.”
“So we’re on?”
“I don’t believe it. You? Taking time out for a ball game with your best buddy?”
“We’ve got season tickets, no sense in wasting them.”
“But we haven’t gone to a game without a business client tagging along since…well, never.”
“We went in college.”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Really? I could have sworn we did.”
“Didn’t happen.”
“Well, I guess it’s time we rectified my oversight. Meet you at the ticket counter. They throw out the first pitch at seven.”
Tony was lounging at the front gate when Liam arrived at Fenway Park.
“You gonna tell me what this is really about?” Tony asked as they made their way to their seats juggling beers and hot dogs.
“What? I want to watch a few innings with my best friend.”
“You sure there’s not something you want to tell me?”
“No.”
“Okay, I’ll take your word for it. But if there was something, you’d tell me, right?”
“You’d be the first to know.”
“I doubt it,” Tony mumbled.
“What’s that?”
“You keep everything bottled up, buttoned down. You don’t talk to anybody about anything except work.” Tony waved at hand at Liam’s starched shirt. “I mean, have you ever in your life, just once, let yourself go?”
“No,” he said, but then he thought, French maid in a closet.
“What are you so afraid of?” Tony asked.
“Who says I’m afraid of anything?”
“Everybody’s afraid of something. I’m trying to figure out why you push yourself so hard?”
It sounded like a dumb question to him. How could he not push himself hard? He had a lot to prove. “Money,” he said.
“Don’t give me that. You have enough money to last you a lifetime.”
What was he afraid of? Failure? Falling in love? He gulped back a swallow of beer. “Okay,” Liam admitted after a long moment, “it’s about a woman.”
Tony sat up straighter. “Brooke?”
“No. Her sister, Katie.”
“I’m listening.”
Liam glanced over his shoulder to see how close the nearest fan was sitting and lowered his voice. “I hooked up with her at the masquerade party.”
“Hooked up as in—”
“Yeah.”
Tony whistled and slugged him lightly on the upper arm. “You dog. Who knew you had it in you?”
Liam glowered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Balancing his hot dog on one knee, Tony held up a palm. “Nothing, dude. Settle.”
Agitation had him shifting in his seat. “The deal is, I can’t get her out of my head.”
“That’s not a bad thing.”
“Of course it is. I can’t concentrate on work.”
“You’ve never really felt this way about a woman before?”
“No.”
“How many girlfriends have you had?”
Liam shrugged. “I don’t know. Six, seven. But none of them ever messed with my head like this.” Other than Arianna, and that was a whole different kind of head game.
“That’s because—since I’ve known you anyway— you’ve always picked career-driven women who complemented your lifestyle. You’ve never been out with one who made your question your priorities.”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe that’s the problem.”
“I’m not following you.”
“Katie Winfield, this woman you hooked up with at the party, she’s different.”
Liam nodded.
“Totally not right for you. Impulsive, I’m guessing. Adventuresome.”
“Yes, yes.” Impatiently, he tapped his fingertips on the back of the seat in front of him. “What’s your point?”
“For the first time in your life you’ve found a woman who makes you feel totally alive.”
He wanted to deny it, but it was true.
“Compared to her,” Tony went on, “work seems dull and pointless.”
“What’s wrong with me?”
“Got bad news for you, buddy boy.” Tony grinned. “There’s only one way to beat this thing.”
“How’s that?”
“Embrace it.”
Liam didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed. “What do you mean, embrace it?”
“You’ve been working nonstop since you were what? Sixteen?”
“Yeah.”
“And all this time, you’ve been keeping your emotions in check.”
“What’s your point?”
“It was bound to happen.”
Frustration had him fisting his hand around his beer. “What was bound to happen?”
“You gotta have a little fun at some point. Kick up your heels. Let your libido run wild.”
“You think so? You think if I embrace this feeling and go with it, have a good time with this woman, it will eventually pass and then I can get back to work?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Hmm. It was a thought.
“So what does Katie Winfield do for a living?” Tony asked.
“She’s a graphic designer at a small advertising agency.”
“There you go. It’s perfect.” Tony dabbed mustard off his chin with a green napkin.
“There I go where?”
“Hire her advertising agency to do some work for us. Those downtown warehouses you’ve renovated into condos are opening soon. Throw the ad campaign her way.”
“And then what?”
“Seduce her. Have a good time if she’s game. Besides, it’s way past time you sowed a few wild oats.”
“You think that would work?”
“Worth a shot. Here we go boys!” Tony jumped to his feet and almost spilled his beer. “Home run Red Sox!”
COLD TURKEY?
Easy for Tanisha to say. She had a key to her boyfriend’s place. Katie had to admit she was jealous.
And lonely.
Maybe Tanisha was right. Maybe it was time for her to turn over a new leaf.
Bright and early Tuesday morning, Max stuck his head into the office she shared with Tanisha. “Excuse me, ladies. We have a new client. Meeting in the conference room at ten.”
“Should we put together a preliminary pitch before the meeting?” Katie asked. “Who’s the client?”
“He’s only here to get preliminary bids. But bring your A game. This fish is a big one.”
An hour later, the creative team assembled in the conference room, buzzing with speculation about this new high-profile project. Katie was still preoccupied with what had happened at the Ladies League ball and she wasn’t paying much attention.
That is until the door to the conference room opened and Max walked in, followed by their new client.
At the sight of him, Katie’s heart stumbled drunkenly against her rib cage. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
Liam James, wrist tattoo and all, came striding into the room as if he owned it.
The memory of their rendezvous in the cloak closet came r
ushing back in gloriously shameful detail. The hot kisses, the frantic shedding of clothes, the quick, powerful thrusts in the inky blackness.
She hiccoughed.
Did he recognize her? Katie kept her head down as she slipped into a leather swivel chair at the far end of the conference table and prayed that he did not.
Max went around the room, introducing him to everyone on the team. When Liam’s eyes lighted on Katie, a bone-clutching chill shot through her, immediately followed by a gush of thrilling heat.
Oh, this was bad.
“Katie,” he said, his voice oozing charm. “It’s nice to see you again.”
What did he mean by that remark?
He shook her hand and her gaze fixed on the now familiar barbed-wire tattoo encircling his wrist. A quick pulse of energy surged between them.
Lightning in a jar.
She jerked her hand back from the contact. His hazel eyes darkened and a slight but suggestive smile tipped his lips.
He knew!
“Hi,” she said because that was all she could manage to squeeze past her constricted throat.
Play it cool and act as if Friday night never happened. You’re going cold turkey.
“You two know each other?” Max arched an eyebrow.
“He’s dating my sister,” Katie explained.
“I’m not.” Liam’s eyes never left her face. “Brooke and I are just friends.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He smiled at her.
Relief washed over Katie, along with a surge of hope and a heightened sense of excitement. Settle down.
Liam turned to Max. “Actually, Katie’s the reason I’m here.”
“Really?” Max said archly.
“I’ve seen the graphic designs she did for the new campaign for Worthington’s Department Store. She’s a very talented artist. You scored big when you hired her.”
Liam’s compliment brought a flush of pride to Katie’s cheeks. Brooke worked for Worthington’s and she must have been the one to show Liam her design.
Max looked at Katie as if seeing her for the first time. “She’s not bad. A bit raw, but maybe she could become great with time and dedication.”
Coming from Max, that was a magnanimous admission.
Liam, broad shouldered and lean hipped, pulled out the chair beside Katie and sat down. Her heart thumped.
My legs have been wrapped around those hips, she thought.
The large conference room suddenly seemed claustrophobically small sitting this close to him, his crisp, masculine scent wafting over her. He smelled startlingly wonderful—like minty toothpaste mingled with rainy autumn days and…sweet, sweet sin.
Max took a seat, as well, steepled his fingertips and leaned forward. “So tell us about your new project, Mr. James.”
“Well,” Liam said, his gaze lingering on Katie so long she was certain he must have guessed her secret identity. She wanted to look away, but she simply could not. “It’s all about sex.”
“SEX?” Katie whispered.
Sex?
What in the devil had made him say that?
Katie Winfield, that’s who.
Liam hadn’t failed to notice the sweet curve of her ass as she’d gracefully eased it down into the plush leather chair. His palms itched to knead her sweet, firm flesh sheathed so provocatively by the silky material of her skirt. The strength of his need was shocking.
She was staring him straight in the eyes, not intimidated in the least by his frank appraisal.
Courageous. He liked that.
His gaze fell to her full, feminine mouth and hung there. God, she had gorgeous lips. It felt as if the conference room were empty and the world had narrowed to just the two of them. Staring into her eyes, Liam recognized the same out-of-control sensation that had gripped him at the masquerade party.
“Sex,” he repeated, as if that’s what he’d intended on saying all along. “I’m renovating downtown warehouses into condos and I want an ad campaign that appeals to hip, young, well-to-do urbanites.”
“And sex sells,” Katie said.
“Exactly.”
“We can do that,” Max Kruger interjected.
“But,” Liam spoke, never taking his gaze off Katie, “I want Katie in as the art director.”
“Katie?” Max sounded nonplussed.
“Me?” Katie squeaked.
“You.”
“Katie’s never served as art director on a campaign,” Max said.
“First time for everything,” Liam replied.
“Max is right,” Katie said. “I’d be out of my league.”
Liam shrugged and started to get up. “All right, if you don’t think you can handle success.”
“Excuse me.” Katie’s eyes sparked.
Had he made her mad?
“Could I speak to you out in the hallway for a moment?”
“Me?” He arched an eyebrow.
“You,” she said curtly.
“Why, sure.” Liam couldn’t stop the grin this time. “Max, do you mind?”
“It’s your dime.” Max waved a hand.
Katie marched out into the hallway. Liam followed leisurely, enjoying the view below her flouncing skirt hem. Damn, but the woman had a gorgeous pair of legs.
She pulled the door closed tight after him, sank her hands on her hips and spun to face him. “What in the hell are you trying to pull?”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play innocent with me. I know what you’re up to.”
“You do?”
“Yes, and stop smiling at me.”
“You don’t like being smiled at?”
“Not by you.”
“What’s wrong with me?” He was enjoying teasing her.
“You…you dressed up like Captain Jack and took advantage of my case of mistaken identity.”
“Hey, now—” he raised a finger “—you were the one who pulled me into the closet.”
“So why did you come here today?” She folded her arms protectively over her chest.
“To get an ad campaign rolling for my new condos.”
“Liar.”
“Okay,” he admitted, “that wasn’t the only reason I chose Sharper Designs. I wanted to see you again, Katie, and apologize for what happened in the closet.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for. It happened. It’s over, and now that I know you’re not Brooke’s boyfriend, well, I don’t even have to feel guilty about it anymore, now do I?”
Liam angled his head and studied her face for a long moment. In spite of her words, she was still feeling guilty. “You made quite an impression on me.”
“Let’s get something straight,” she said. “You’re hiring my talents as a graphic designer, nothing more. As far as I’m concerned, Friday never happened. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You’re still doing it,” she said.
“Doing what?”
“Smiling at me. Stop smiling at me.”
“What’s wrong with smiling?”
“Because you look adorable when you smile.”
“I know,” he said, his grin widening. “I’m trying to be irresistible.”
“It’s not working,” she muttered. “You’re resistible.”
“You are such a bad liar.”
Her earlobes turned pink. She ducked her head, but then peeked up at him from underneath those long eyelashes. His heart slammed when he spied the hint of vulnerability in those blue depths. Her eyes narrowed the world to only him.
Liam felt special.
In a nervous gesture, she slipped her fingers through her hair, and tucked a sleek blond strand behind one perfectly shaped ear. Her breasts rose and fell beneath the V-neck of her crisp white blouse, and he spied the sexy blush of a pink bra underneath the white top.
Oh, yeah, she knew how to get to a man.
She spun another strand of golden hair around an index finger in a graceful motion. Her fingernails, he noted, were p
ainted a soft high-society color of pale rose. She wore a single gold chain around her neck and her earrings were plain gold studs. But everything she had on was of the highest quality. It was the understated attire of a true blue blood.
She was contradictory. There were her classically tailored work clothes, and then there was the French-maid persona she let loose in closets. He liked the paradox.
His gaze hung on her lips. Rich, ripe, painted the color of summer strawberries. He caught his breath and waited.
For what, he didn’t know.
Katie flicked out her tongue and touched the tip of it to the glistening gloss of her upper lip. Slowly, she traced around the moist pink edges of her mouth with the cool certainty of a woman who knew exactly the effect she had on a man.
The overhead florescent hallway lighting slanted a shaft of illumination across her face. He looked down at her and was surprised to see a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. Tender feelings rose up in him. Feelings he’d never felt before and didn’t understand.
As they stared into each other’s eyes, the air leaked from their lungs in a simultaneous exhale.
Liam knew he was a goner. His gaze beaded on her lips. Lips he yearned to kiss again. He leaned forward, resting his arm on the wall above her head. Not thinking, just wanting.
Katie didn’t pull away. She was so near he could feel the heat of her skin. If they weren’t standing in the corridor of Sharper Designs, he would have kissed her.
They stared at one another with an astonishing mix of surprise, delight and stark sexual heat. He had to have her. Tony was right. The only way he was ever going to get Katie out of his system was to embrace his desires and find a way to charm this bedazzling woman into his bed.
“I’m coming back on Friday. Around one o’clock,” he said. “That gives you three days to come up with an art design for my condos. Do you think you can handle it?”
She lifted her chin. “I can handle it.”
“Oh, and there’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“I’m expecting to have my socks blown off.”
5
“ARE YOU SURE it has to be cold turkey?” Katie asked Tanisha after Liam had left Sharper Designs and they were in their office again. “Can’t I sort of taper off impulsive sex?”
“Absolutely not. It’s like when you’ve convinced yourself you’re only going to have one Oreo cookie and you end up scarfing down the whole box.”