He picked up the coffee she’d brought him and took another sip. Her flaring temper could be a handful to deal with, but there were two sides to that passionate coin and he was certainly enjoying the other half at the moment.
The situation Aunt Beatrice had forced him into was unfortunate. But he couldn’t regret asking Francesca to be his fiancée. Drawing her into this circus wasn’t fair, but she was the right woman for the job. He couldn’t imagine it going nearly as well with any of the women in his address book.
He liked being around Francesca. Working with her last week had been nice. Liam had gotten very comfortable having Francesca around, and that was saying a lot. He’d dated his share of women, never for more than a few months at a time. But he had boundaries. He very rarely had them over to his house and if he did, it wasn’t overnight. They didn’t meet any of his family or at least hadn’t gotten to a point in the relationship where he thought it would be appropriate.
And he absolutely never brought them into his workplace. His romantic life and his work were two wires that never crossed. He usually didn’t date at work, Francesca being a notable exception. He even tried to date outside the business. It took a bit of effort when you lived in D.C. not to date someone in media or politics—his usual circles—but he liked it that way. Usually.
Francesca was changing everything. This fake engagement was growing into something else with every passing moment. He didn’t just want Francesca to come to his house; he also wanted her to help him decorate it. He liked starting his mornings chatting with her over coffee in his office or at her kitchen table. She may not have met his family yet, but if Aunt Beatrice had anything to say about it, she would—and soon. If the engagement went on for long, maybe he could convince his mother and sister to come to D.C. for a visit. He actually liked the idea of introducing them. He was certain his sister would really like Francesca.
All his rules were being broken. Stomped on with a red stiletto was more like it.
Normally, that would make Liam cringe. This woman he’d lassoed and pulled into his life was blurring all his boundaries. And he liked it.
A gentle rap at the door made him look up from their engagement photo. “Yes?”
Jessica came in, a couple of files stacked in her arms. “Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Jessica.”
She smiled as she approached his desk. “You’re looking quite chipper this morning. Love looks good on you, sir. As does Ms. Orr’s lipstick.”
Liam grinned sheepishly and got up to look in the mirror over the minibar. He spotted a touch of reddish-pink lipstick, which he quickly wiped off. “Thanks, Jessica. She would’ve let me walk around like this all day, I bet.”
“Of course. I’ve got those things you asked for this morning.” Jessica set the stack of paperwork on his desk. “Last month’s ratings numbers for the 5:00 to 7:00 p.m. weekday time slots, the budget breakout for the gala this weekend and the copy of Italian for Idiots you asked me to order came in from Amazon.”
“Excellent. Thank you, Jessica. I’ve got a meeting with the CFO today, right?”
“At four.”
Liam nodded. “Would you call and make reservations for Francesca and me at that nice sushi place in Dupont Circle? At six? I should be done with my meeting by then.”
“I’ll take care of it. Anything else?”
“That should do it for now.”
When Jessica turned to leave, Liam thought of something. “Wait, one more thing. I’d like to send something to Francesca. An unexpected gift. Any suggestions?”
His secretary thought for a moment. “Well, for most men, I would suggest flowers or candy.”
“Am I not most men?”
“Not at all, sir.”
At least she was honest. “Then what would you recommend for the smaller minority of men?”
“Perhaps something for the gala this weekend? Do you know what dress she’s wearing? Maybe something sparkly to go with it?”
Liam seemed to remember her saying something about that yesterday. That she had to go find a dress, but she didn’t know when she would have the time. Perhaps he could help with that. Aunt Beatrice had the personal shoppers from Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus come to her when she was choosing an outfit for an event. His aunt rarely left her mansion anymore.
“Check Ms. Orr’s calendar for tomorrow afternoon and move anything she has to another time. Then call Neiman Marcus and have them send over a personal shopper.”
“They’ll need her size, colors and any other preferences.”
Liam wrote down a few things on a Post-it note and handed it to her. “This is a fairly solid guess on her size, although tell them to bring a few things larger and smaller in case I’m wrong. I want the whole outfit, so shoes too. She wears an eight.” He’d seen the label on her shoe as he’d carried her from the engagement party.
“Anything else, sir?”
“Yes. I want her to be the most stunning woman there. She is gorgeous on her own, but I’d like her to have a dress almost as beautiful as she is. And as such, let them know there’s no price limit.”
Eight
Liam had wanted to escort Francesca to the gala, but she’d insisted she had to go early and that she would just meet him there. He anticipated that she would be running around for most of the evening. That meant loitering on his own. Normally that wouldn’t bother him, but lately being separated from Francesca brought on an awkward tightness in his chest. The only thing that would cure it was holding her in his arms.
As he walked through the front doors of the hotel’s grand ballroom, he was greeted by the sound of a ten-piece orchestra accompanied by the dull roar of several hundred people mingling. The light was dim, but his eyes quickly became accustomed to it. He searched around the room for Francesca, but he began to think it was a lost cause. She was a needle in a haystack.
Despite the fact that he’d paid for the outfit she had chosen for tonight, he had no idea what she would be wearing. She had been exceedingly pleased with the gift and had thanked him in several ways over the past week, but the only details she would share was that it was a Marchesa and “molto bellisima.”
Then the crowds parted near the bar and he saw her. There was no mistaking this needle in any size haystack. The personal shopper from the department store had certainly taken Liam’s requests into consideration. Francesca was the most stunning woman in the room tonight. He didn’t even have to look around to check. He knew it in his gut.
The gown was black and gray with a swirling design. It was off the shoulder and clung to each curve all the way to the knee, where it fanned out into a delicate cascade of black marabou feathers. Her breasts were tastefully showcased by the neckline of the gown, which was trimmed with more feathers—there wasn’t so much showing as to make him jealous of other men looking at her, but it was enough to make him notice. Her hair was swept up, making her neck look impossibly long and ready for his kisses. Her only jewelry was a pair of sparkling diamond dangles at her ears and a bracelet on one wrist.
When she turned to speak to someone, he noticed the feathers continued into a short train that draped behind her. It was grand, elegant and extremely sexy. And the best part was that his fiancée was wearing it.
He’d tried not to think too much of her that way. It implied more than there was between them, but he felt a surge of territoriality rush through him when she started talking to another man. He had the urge to rush to her, kiss her senseless and stake his claim before anyone got any ideas.
Then she held up her hand to show off her engagement ring. Even across the room, he could see the massive gem sparkle as her hand turned and she smiled. At long last, she radiated joy like a future bride should. The man said a few things, then they parted ways and she started walking in his direction.
The second her eyes met his, she stopped in her tracks. With a seductive grin curling her ruby lips, she held out her arms to showcase the gown and did a little turn for hi
m. Lord, he thought, curling his hands into fists at his side. It was even more incredible from the back, where it dipped low to showcase her flawless, tanned skin.
Liam closed the gap between them as fast as he could without running across the ballroom. Up close, the dress sparkled as the lights hit little crystals sprinkled across the fabric, but it didn’t shine as radiantly as she did.
“What do you think? Did I spend your money wisely?”
Not caring if he ruined the look she’d so carefully crafted, he leaned down and kissed her. He couldn’t help it.
When he pulled away, Francesca smiled. “I guess so.”
“Incredible,” he said.
“Thank you for buying it for me. Having the woman from the department store just show up with gowns was perfect. I felt like I was an Oscar nominee with designers fighting for me to wear their looks on the red carpet.”
“Hollywood is all the poorer for you not being on the big screen.”
“Oh, stop,” she said, smacking him lightly on the arm. “There’s no one around to hear us, so you don’t have to lay it on so thick.”
Liam shook his head. “I mean every word. It wouldn’t matter if we were all alone. I’d say the same thing. Of course, I’d be saying it as I unzipped you from the gown.”
Francesca smiled and slipped her arm through his. “Let me show you where we’re sitting. People are still milling around the silent auction tables, but the event should be starting shortly. You’ll give your speech after the video plays about the youth facilities.”
The speech. He’d almost forgotten about that weight dragging him down when he saw her looking so stunning. “Hooray,” he said flatly.
“Did you bring it?”
He patted his lapel. “Got it right here. And I wrote it myself, I might add. No bribery was involved.”
“I’m looking forward to hearing it.”
They approached a round banquet table front and center, just beside the steps that led up to the stage. He helped her into her seat and took his own just as the orchestra music increased in intensity and the lights on the stage shifted to indicate the program was about to start.
Salads were brought to every place setting as the director of Youth in Crisis welcomed everyone and introduced the short video about their program.
Liam could only pick at his salad. With every minute of the video that went by, he felt more and more nauseated by the idea of speaking to three hundred people.
When the credits started rolling, Francesca sought out his hand and squeezed it gently. “It’s time,” she said, looking over to him. “You’ll do great.”
Liam took a large sip of wine and got up from the table. He made his way to the stairs and up onto the stage, where he was bathed in blinding white lights. He reached in his pocket for his speech, adjusted the microphone and tried to keep the frantic beating of his heart from being audible to the crowd. It was now or never.
“Thank you and welcome, everyone, to the eighth annual Youth in Crisis charity gala. As some of you may know, I recently bought the ANS network, which has a longstanding commitment to this organization. It’s a partnership I’m proud of, and there are many people who work hard to make it possible.”
He looked down in front of the podium, where he could see Francesca’s dim silhouette. Her excited expression fueled his courage to continue. His heart seemed to slow and the subtle shaking of his hands subsided. He just might make it through the speech with her sitting there, silently cheering him on.
“First, I would like to thank ANS’s Executive Vice President of Community Outreach and organizer of tonight’s grand event, my beautiful fiancée, Francesca Orr. For those of you that don’t know Francesca, she cares so deeply about this cause. With everything that has happened with our network in the past few months, there was some uncertainty about whether or not we could sponsor this event like we have for the past seven years.
“Well,” he corrected, “I should say everyone but Francesca had some uncertainty. Come hell or high water, this gala would go on as far as she was concerned. The woman would give back her own salary to fund this event if she had to. I hope everyone rewards her determination by writing a big, fat check. I have agreed to match the largest private donation tonight as an engagement present for my bride, so feel free to stick it to me for a good cause.”
The crowd laughed and Liam felt his confidence boost. He shuffled to the next index card, gave Francesca a wink and continued in his bid to get the attendees to part with their money.
*
Francesca loved her dress. She really did. But after a long night, she was just as happy to change into a breezy slip dress and zip the gown into the garment bag she’d brought with her to the hotel. She couldn’t stuff all those feathers into her little BMW and drive around. With that done, she stepped into the comfortable black flats she’d stashed away with her change of clothes and sighed in relief. Not only did her feet feel better, but the gala was a roaring success and—more important—it was over.
The ballroom was nearly empty by the time Liam found her gathering up the last of her things. “That was a very painful check to write,” he said. “Remind me to kick Scarlet’s fiancé for donating that much the next time I see him.”
She smiled, standing and turning to look at him. His bow tie was undone, his collar unbuttoned. He managed to look casually sexy yet elegantly refined at the same time. “Daniel knows that it’s for a good cause, as should you. And an excellent tax deduction,” she added.
“It was worth it to see the look on your face when they announced how much money we raised.”
“I can’t believe it, really. We blew last year’s donations out of the water. Everyone was buzzing about ANS tonight—and for a good reason.” Francesca slipped her bag over her shoulder and took Liam’s arm.
“It’s about time,” he said, leading them back to the front of the hotel where the party had been held. He approached the valet and handed him his ticket.
“I parked over there,” she said, pointing to an area she didn’t really want to walk to.
“We’ll get your car in the morning,” he said. “I want you to come home with me tonight.”
That was an interesting development. Liam had yet to have her over to his place. She figured that it was a personal retreat for him. They’d always gone to her town house instead. And tonight, she really wished they were sticking with that arrangement. She had no change of clothes. She had what she had worn to the hotel and her dress. The designer gown, while fabulous, would look ridiculous in the morning.
“I don’t have any clothes for tomorrow,” she said.
“You won’t need any,” he replied with a wicked grin as the valet brought the car out.
Francesca gave up the fight. She was too exhausted after a long day to argue. They loaded her things into his convertible and she sat back in her seat, going with the flow. It wasn’t until they reached his place that she perked up.
Liam had described where he lived as a town house, just a little bigger than hers, but he’d lied. As they pulled up the circular brick driveway, she found herself outside what looked like a two-story home. It was detached with a courtyard out front. Two stories of red brick with an elegantly arched front doorway and dormer windows on the roof.
“I thought you said you lived in a town house.”
Liam shrugged and pulled the car into the attached garage. “It’s close.”
He came around the car and opened the door for her, escorting her toward a few steps leading up into the house. They entered through the kitchen. The cabinets were a stark white with glass fronts, set against stainless appliances and gray granite countertops. There wasn’t a single dish in the sink and not a piece of mail sitting on the counter.
Liam took her garment bag and led her through to the front entryway, where he hung it in the closet. She set her bag containing the other items she’d needed tonight on the floor beside the door and wandered into the living room.
�
�It’s a beautiful place,” she said, walking over to the staircase and running her hand along the wood railing. The space had so much potential. It was a stunning home, but as he’d said before, it was probably just as it was when he’d moved in. White walls, hardwood floors, minimal furniture. There wasn’t a single piece of art on the walls or personal item on a shelf. It looked like a model home or one stripped to sell. “But it does need a woman’s touch,” Francesca admitted.
“I told you I needed you to help me decorate.”
“I didn’t realize it would be such a large task.”
Liam shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and laid it across the arm of the couch. “Not what you were picturing?”
“I guess I was anticipating this place as more of a reflection of you. You seemed to guard it so fiercely that I thought coming into your home would give me some insight into who you are as a person.”
“You don’t see me in this place?”
Francesca glanced around one last time. “Not really. But I see what I should’ve expected to see. A house owned by someone too wrapped up in his work to make it a home. That speaks volumes about you, I think.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed at her. “My work is more important to me than the color of the walls.”
“My work is important to me. But I make time for other things, too. I want to get married and have a family someday soon. When I do, I want not only a successful man, but also one that can take a step back from his job to enjoy family life. You’ll burn out without that.”
As Francesca said the words aloud, she realized she may have made a grave tactical error with Liam. He might not read much into what she’d just said, but it struck a painful chord with her. When she’d said the words, when she’d mentally envisioned getting married and having a family, she’d seen Liam in her mind. She had pictured this place filled with color and life and toddlers who looked like him.
She had let her heart slip away, piece by piece. It had happened so slowly over the past few weeks that she’d barely noticed the change until it was too late. Liam didn’t know it, but Francesca had given her heart to him.
A Very Exclusive Engagement Page 9