Liam wasn’there.
I was alone in my apartment.
My cheeks burned with the growing realization. He wasn’t here; he never had been. Nothing had happened. Nothing.
My thighs squeezed together, desperate for relief.
Damn Liam Roth.That smug, entitledarsehole.
Even in my sleep, he got the last word.
Chapter 16
Andrea
“You have togo, Andrea.” My sister stuck out a finger and let Zorro sniff it, before picking up her white hot chocolate and taking a delicate sip. “He’s your boyfriend now. So you don’t have a choice.” The cat backed away, his green eyes not leaving her face.
“He most certainly isnotmy boyfriend. I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.” I hadn’t told James or Eliza about the sex dream. I felt it would sway them in a way that wasn’t necessarily in my interests.
“If I can sit in a place calledLady Lucinda’s Pussy Emporium”—James huffed—“surrounded by feral cats—”
“They’re not feral, James,” I said.
“Hmph. You said we were going to a spa.” His chin puckered, and he reached for the scones, smearing one with strawberry jam and adding a dollop of cream.
“James, Eliza just survived second-year law,” I said. “She gets to choose. And anyway, we need kittens today.” After the night my sister and I’d had, London’s most popular cat café was just the right kind of therapy. I’d hardly been able tosleep, irritated with myself for the primal attraction to Liam that seemed to have hijacked my body—not to mention my better judgment.
“As I was saying. If I can do this”—he gestured around at the wonderland of cat trees, tunnels, and smizing moggies—“then the least you can do is consider going to a wedding. InFrance.”
“But he’s even more of an arse than we realized,” I said, crossly.
Eliza’s forehead crinkled into a skeptical mask, which she quickly dropped when she saw me catch her expression.
“Ahem.” James blew on his tea, then lifted it to his lips. “Arse or no arse, we have to accept that the rules of the game appear to have changed. Rather oddly. You can’t really blame Mr. von Roth for that. You broke into a society event. And gotcaught.”
I frowned. It had certainly complicated things. Whether that was good or bad, I wasn’t sure. Still, it had been worth it to see my painting on display. It was weird to see people pausing and commenting, not knowing it was mine. It had looked better than I remembered, somehow. Like I was actually an artist and not just a sales rep with paint under her nails. I felt that old pang in my gut and pushed it down.
At any rate, Liam Roth pissed me off more every time I saw him. And I really needed to keep my job.
“Far out, Andy. When you smashed that heavy door into the wall—” Eliza looked at me, grinning at the memory. It was awful. Hilarious, but awful.
We’d nearly cleared the security desk—Eliza striding like she owned the place, me tripping over my own heels in the attempt—when the side door betrayed us. It should’ve been a discreet slip inside. Instead, I yanked the handle like a medievalbattering ram, and the door slammed back with a crash loud enough to echo through the Dark Ages.
Thank God we’d gone ahead without Christian and saved him the embarrassment.
“I’m sure there’s a restructure coming, Andy.” James folded his arms. “Gerald’s been dropping hints again.”
It fell quiet, and I reached for a raspberry and rose macaron. Sting’s “Englishman in New York” played faintly in the background.
“Look. What I’m saying is, you’re in quite a good position with the HR letter we’ve got on file.” His face was serious. “But ClotRx isn’t our biggest seller. I don’t think you should take any chances. You’ll need all the help you can get if they’re cutting headcount.”
“You don’t even have a science degree, Andy,” Eliza said, in case I’d forgotten. “You’ll be first on the chopping block. And Liam… well… heis—” She shrugged, as if no explanation was needed. Damn this man and his hypnotic good looks. No wonder he was so arrogant—even my terminally picky sister wasn’t immune to his charms.
James set down his teacup with a clink. “You’re thinking about this the wrong way, hon. He can deny your little ‘moment’ happened—”
“In the liftandin your bedroom,” said Eliza. “Or smother it under lawyers.”
“Quite. Pretend-girlfriend-at-a-wedding, on the other hand…” James spread his hands wide, like a magician revealing a very obvious trick. “It gives you leverage. Over a really hot billionaire. Honestly, you couldn’t make this shit up.” He looked over one shoulder, then the other, as if he almost expected someone to be listening.
