She was flitting about and, thank God, didn’t seem to notice the effect she had on him.
“I’m not wearing shoes since dinner’s on the beach. Voluntary sand between the toes is one thing. Sand in the shoes? Entirely different sitch.” She cleared her throat and, on a small smile, turned back into the room. “Two seconds. I forgot my earrings.”
The move revealed the other side of the dress. Liam’s ability to form coherent thoughts went the way of his vocabulary, leaving him staring wide-eyed and slack jawed. How many years would he spend dreaming about the soft, exposed skin of her back or the faint suntan lines earned this afternoon? He saw it all, more even, because the dress’s back wasn’t just open, it wasopen. Nothing but a maze of thin crisscrossing straps that dipped so low it was millimeters from that scandalous point where her back and her backsidemet.
Adjusting the front of his trousers, he spun away and walked to the balcony railing, gripping it with strength fueled half by fury, half by desire. Fury at his inability to control his reaction to the woman he’d planned to seduce. As for the desire? That was self-explanatory. He glanced over his shoulder and watched her approach him with such grace and composure he had to remind himself to breathe. Yes, this was desire of the most destructive kind. A single glance and she rendered him mute. Senseless.Common.
“Ready?”
There were a thousand things he wanted to say, and not a single damn word came out. Instead of stumbling through some inane compliment and embarrassing himself, he wordlessly proffered his arm, squashing the small thrill that coursed through him when she laid her hand across the exposed skin of his forearm. Never before had he thanked God he’d rolled his sleeves up.
First time for everything, I suppose.
A shake of his head to clear it, and then he was guiding Ella down the steps to the walkway and toward the beachfront. He watched her from the corner of his eye, this woman who threatened to undermine his plans. And she seemed completely unaware she had derailed him, turned him inside out, tied him in knots.
“You’re quiet.”
Her softly spoken comment drew him out of his musings. Looking down at her, his breath caught all over again, and he had to smile. He’d always prided himself on laying out intelligent plans and executing them with logic paired with practicality. It was, for all intents and purposes, his modus operandi.
But with her backless black dress and bare feet and shell-pink toes, Ella Montgomery had shattered that MO as if it were an illusion. Part of him wondered if he shouldn’t be irritated. The larger part of him couldn’t bring himself to care. Falling slave to her siren’s call sounded like an ideal plan. He would come to her call, allow her to draw him down to the depths of dark passion, where he would willingly drown.
“Liam?”
His gaze met hers, inwardly thrilling at the sharp catch of her breath, the involuntary widening of her pupils, the slight tightening of her fingers on his forearm.
“Apologies. Woolgathering at an inopportune moment. What did you say?”
“I said I’m sure you have a lot on your mind with your sister’s impending marriage, and I hope you’ll tell me about her so that I get this right.”
“Of course.” She would instinctually assume he was at a loss over the wedding details. He wouldn’t correct her. Not yet.
Guilt’s sharp fingers clawed their way up his back, caressing his nape before scraping along his scalp. His skin crawled in response. He was going to ruin this woman’s career—at least superficially...temporarily—and he knew it. Of course, he fully planned to use his connections to help her rebuild. Hell, he’d buy Ella’s way into society’s good graces if he had to. But Ella would have to trust him to help reestablish her reputation when all seemed lost. For that to happen, he had to first earn that trust.While lying to her about the wedding plans. And seducing her.
Guilt’s weighted talons sank so deep they scraped bone.
It was a new feeling, this particular level of guilt. He’d dismantled businesses, sold pieces and dissolved personnel departments with less apprehension than he experienced just then. Frankly? He didn’t understand this sensation any more than he liked it.
So master the moment and deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.
Right. Time to take control, to set aside the unfamiliar apprehension where Ella was concerned, to focus on her as a woman—one he found disconcertingly appealing. Show her that the men she’d dated in Los Angeles were just overgrown boys who hadn’t been equipped to satisfy a woman of her caliber.
He’d deal with the fallout when it came.
Ella was hyperaware of the man at her side. The slight abrasion of his skin against her palm. His spicy cologne, faint but distinct enough to tease her senses. The way the breeze mussed his otherwise perfect hair. He’d been suspiciously quiet despite her attempts to draw him into conversation, his responses short and without elucidation.
Irritating man.
He hadn’t been so quiet this afternoon.
It seemed that she’d needlessly worked herself into a minor frenzy over this evening. He was absolutely calm. Of course, he had the list she needed. He didn’t have a client showing up in a few days who expected a perfect wedding, much of it based on revisions she wasn’t yet privy to.
God, thatlist. It was her invisible nemesis. She needed it now. Particularly if it was an updated version of what she’d been provided by the bride’s personal assistant. Without up-to-date information, Ella was effectively working blind. So she’d have dinner, tease Liam about the way datingshouldgo, flirt and play a little, and then she would get down to business. First thing she’d do was coordinate the hell out of this wedding and, immediately after that, she’d ensure that her reputation was back in working order.
Arm in arm, they stepped off the cultivated path, feet sinking into the white-sand beach.
Ella gasped.
Arvin and his staff had taken the plan she’d given them and outdone themselves. It was as if they’d crawled into her mind and plucked images, bringing thoughts and feelings together to create the perfect montage, from the big picture to the finest details. They’d hit every mark.