Liam didn’t look at me as he slammed his paper plate, fork, and tumbler of whiskey on the seat next to mine. Not at the head of the table. The seat right next tomine. On my right…so I stared in shock at this untarnished profile.
He ground his molars as he scooped out noodles, committing the sin of tossing the meat directly onto the spaghetti. It was supposed to be the second course, simple though it was. I bit my tongue to keep from smirking.
“What?” he snapped, snagging the booze.
“Nothing.” I gulped and turned to my food. “Nothing at all.”
We ate in complete silence.
It wasn’t a lonely sound. Oh, dio sopra no! Whatever energy crackled between us was near combusting. It was all that I could do to feed myself, the repetitive motion taking what little air was sent to my brain.
I mechanically twisted the last bit of pasta before reaching for the meat dish.
His hot blue gaze licked across my skin.
Sliding the side of my fork through the lemon-sauced chicken, I peeped at the figure on my right. He offered me the tumbler. The edge was wet where his mouth had marked it.
Setting down the fork, I took it. I didn’t drop his gaze as I twisted the cut glass to the side, putting my lips where his had been.
Liam swallowed hard.
A rich, oaky burn slid down my throat. It made my blood race.
Taking the glass back, the monster twisted it back to the same place, downing the whole glass. Then his tongue darted out to lick the last drop.
The place between my legs pulsed.
Liam took a second helping of food, mixing the protein with the carbs. He shot me a glance, but I didn’t make a sound—even with the egregious sin. Whatever this thing was, this thing where we didn’t speak but said a lot, it seemed to equally agitate him. He couldn’t leave the table fast enough after shoveling the rest of the dinner down his throat.
I dropped my head into my hands, the inner goddess—and her million sensual ideas—screaming at me for missing the opportunity. But I wasn’t used to her preening demands. How was I supposed to close the distance? Offer myself to the monster? What if….
What if he refused?
I cleared the table, did the dishes, and tried to bank the smoldering fire that burned deep in my belly. It was no good. I knew what I wanted—whoI wanted.
“I don’t know why,” I muttered. “He’s such a crab ass.”
Returning to the dining room with the wet dish rag, I stopped short. The strange attraction to my husband fizzled out as I stared at the money. That was my freedom. Right there. Staring back at me. The bone-deep weariness created by the long hours of wondering if I would ever make enough money seemed to slough off.
Excitement began to beat in my chest.
I could run…just as soon as I figured out how to make it happen.
Scooping up the money, I took it to the kitchen and hid it in the back of the cabinet on the central island. Unless someone was looking, they wouldn’t find it. Tomorrow, I would fill this kitchen with proper items, including Tupperware, which waswhere I would better hide the cash. If the kitchen was full, there was less chance someone would stumble upon the treasure.
Plus, if Liam saw the domestic side of me, he might be more likely to lower his guard.
Wishful thinking….
***
I ventured into the cozy living room a half hour later with a cup of tea and the newest thriller. The lamp behind the couch was already on, inviting me inside. But a small movement in the corner made me freeze. Liam snapped his head up, his computer sliding down his lap before he caught it.
“Sorry, I uh—” I gestured around. “I thought you would be in your office.”
Liam shook his head. “This chair is more comfortable.”
I nodded, biting my top lip as I looked around. This room was probably my favorite in the house. Walnut-stained bookshelves were built into three of the four walls. Great bay windows looked over the front yard. They would be a great spot to curl up with a blanket and pillows, but I already knew I liked the beige sofa the best.
