He might have his moods, but he did seem to care for her.
As the evening wore on, he introduced her to what felt like half the attendees. She shook hands with his associates and competitors alike, noting one similarity between everyone: every single person in the ballroom was filthy rich. Once again, her nerves got the better of her, and she found herself hanging in the background each time someone cornered Liam for a conversation. She had nothing to offer as far as chit chat went anyway. No, she hadn’t seen the new production of Swan Lake at the Nevada Ballet Theater. No, she was not related to the Callenders of Cape Cod. And no, she really didn’t want to participate in the casino games in the adjoining room.
A couple of hours had dragged by, and she realized she was holding her breath a lot. The more she tried to fit in with these people, the more she stood out. And because she was there with Liam, everyone wanted to know her business. She’d never been the sort to feel ashamed of her background, but tonight she felt a little like Molly Ringwald trying to fit in with the rich kids.
Her emotions only compounded whenever Liam did anything remotely sweet or considerate. He covered her shoulders with a shawl and her palms began to sweat. He introduced her to VIPs as if she were more important than he was, and heat streaked across her chest. Each kiss from him, each slow dance, made her feel like more of a hypocrite.
Liam led her to yet another group of people whose wealth seemed to drip from their fingers and necks. A couple of the women in this glamorous huddle eyed her from top to bottom as they approached, their waxed brows arching and their lips curling. That was when the churning in her gut finally did her in. Her stomach pitched and she almost tasted the bile that crept up her throat.
Liam stopped in his tracks. “Kate, are you okay?”
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t be here. They don’t have a clue, Liam. Can’t you see it? They have no clue what it’s like in the real world. I know, and you know, but they don’t.”
“Kate, I get it. I’d rather be throwing back a beer with Beck and Nolan, but a lot of good can come from an event like this. Remember, it’s for charity. That’s good, right?”
She shuffled on her feet. “I suppose, but…”
“Kate, you belong here as much as anyone.”
She plucked at the billowy skirt on her gown. “No, I don’t. I shouldn’t have let you buy me these things. I’m no better than my father, taking money from others.”
The muscles in Liam’s cheeks clenched. He pulled her aside. “Don’t talk like that. Look, I can afford the dress and the jewelry. And if I want to spend money on you, I will. Why can’t you accept that?”
“Maybe because we still barely know each other.” She fingered the diamond bracelet he’d insisted on making her wear, even if it was a rental. “It feels a bit early for diamonds.”
“You deserve to wear nice things.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his slicked-back coif. “I enjoyed it.”
“I told you when we met I couldn’t be bought, Liam. I meant what I said.”
He stared at her, and his eyebrow arched. “Exactly what do you think I’m trying to buy? Your cooperation? Your affection? Your body?”
Liam’s voice had risen but he didn’t seem to notice the heads turning in their direction. Heat lip up Kate’s face, no doubt echoing the angry flare on his own cheeks.
“I just…I don’t understand what we’re doing. You and me. What’s happening between us?”
“Why do you have to question it?”
“Because someone has to, and it’s clearly not you.”
Liam’s gaze swept over her like the beam from a lighthouse, illuminating a black sea, searching her personal darkness. He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the ballroom.
They passed people on their furious dash, but Kate saw only the back of Liam’s head, and the way his muscles moved under his tuxedo jacket as he dragged her along.
She’d never been so entranced by another person.
Liam tried a couple of doors down the long conference room hallway, only to find them locked. He cursed.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
He said nothing, his face still grim. Eventually he tried a door marked “Piazza Room” and it opened. He pulled her in and closed the door, locking it behind them.
He turned on her and backed her up to the marble-top boardroom table. The edge of the table met with her bottom and she gasped.
Stepping close, invading any sense of personal space she had in the moment, he curled his fingers around her neck. “You asked what we’re doing. You want to know what’s happening between us? I don’t fucking know. You think it doesn’t scare the shit out of me too?”
“I never said you were scaring me.”
His face crumpled. “Do you think I can’t see it all over your face? I terrify you because I want you so much. Don’t you understand what you do to me? I ache when I’m not inside you. My hands shake when I can’t touch you. And to hear you put yourself down makes my brain want to explode. You’re worth a hundred of those people out there.”
