He chuckles, and I instinctively rub at the inked design beneath my shirt, as if to ensure it’s still there.
“Alastair’s just flirting with her to get to me,” I mutter, unable to tear my eyes away from the pair.
“It would appear he’s succeeding. When on earth are you two going to set aside this feud?” Edward’s voice carries a note of exasperation.
“Never. He’s tried to fuck me over too many times.”
“Yes, well, you also fucked with the most important thing in his life. Can you blame the man?”
I roll my eyes.
“Liam, cool it.” He frowns. “This is a charity event.”
My eyes are on Gemma as she laughs again, the sound carrying over the low hum of conversation.
He lets out a sigh. “Go on then. Gorescuethe poor girl from Alastair’s clutches. I’ll be around if you need me after the ceremony.”
“I will.”
Edward nods and slaps me on the back as I make my way across the room. With each step, I feel my blood pressure rise. The sight of Alastair leaning into Gemma, his hand casually resting on the bar behind her, has my vision clouding.
I know I shouldn’t care. I know this is exactly what Alastair wants. But right now, all I can think about is getting Gemma away from him.
“Alastair,” I bite out as I reach them, my voice cutting through their laughter. “Becoming a habit of yours, sniffing around members of my staff, isn’t it?”
Gemma’s eyes go wide, her mouth falling open at my bluntness. “Liam!”
But I ignore her, my gaze locked on Harrington. He chuckles, unfazed as always by my open aggression, and straightens to hisfull height. “Don’t worry, Gemma, I’m used to Liam’s charming disposition by now.”
Prick even has the balls to clap me on the shoulder with that fake jovial familiarity. “Nonetheless, it’s wonderful to see you, Liam. I was beginning to wonder if you were still out nursing your wounded pride from that regatta upset,” he continues, that velvet undercurrent of mockery less veiled now. “But no hard feelings. It’s high time someone else provided some genuine competition, wouldn’t you agree?”
He says it with a smile, like it’s just friendly banter between old chums. But I know what he’s really saying. He’s not fucking talking about the regatta.
I bare my teeth in a taut smile. “Don’t delude yourself, Harrington. If I wanted to hand you your ass, I’d have done so.”
The bell chimes, indicating it’s time to take our seats for dinner.
“Gemma, it’s been a pleasure,” Alastair says, then gives me a wink. “Liam.” He strolls off.
I move to stand beside Gemma at the bar.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, she rounds on me. “That was aggressive, even for you,” she hisses. “What’s gotten into you?”
I grind my teeth, feeling the tension ripple through my jaw. “I don’t want that guy poaching my staff.”
Gemma scoffs, rolling her eyes. “This again? What, I can’t even talk to him? That’s just ridiculous.”
“We’ll fucking see,” I snap, leaning forward. My thigh slips between her legs, the heat of her core searing me even through the layers of fabric separating us. My hand finds her hip, feeling the silky material of her dress against my palm. It’s an instinctual move, not a conscious one.
She blushes, the pretty pink hue creeping across her cheeks. “Are you staying in our hotel?” she asks quietly.
She shifts slightly on the barstool, and the movement causes her dress to ride up another inch. Her breath hitches as her bare inner thigh brushes against the rough fabric of my trousers.
“No. The boat,” I reply curtly, rolling my jaw in a futile attempt to temper the arousal surging through me. No lines will be crossed tonight.
Her eyes sweep over me, assessing. “The boat? You managed to look likethatgetting ready on a boat?”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “Was that a compliment I detected in there? Are you saying I clean up well, or were you just insulting my boat?”
