Liam crossed his arms over his chest, took a deep breath and widened his stance as if preparing for battle. “Do you, now.” His tone was measured. “I was under the impression my notes were self-explanatory.”
She tilted her head to one side, looking him over. “Does this happen often?”
“Does what happen often?”
“This.” She gestured toward him. “Do you have frequent episodes where your superiority complex interferes with common courtesy? If so, you might consider seeing someone about it.”
His eyes flared for a moment before his lids slid down and gave him the appearance of bored but focused irritation. “A little respect, Ella.”
“Absolutely, Liam,” she said, emphasizing the two syllables of his name and meeting his stare head-on. “When it’s earned.” She squared her shoulders and tipped her head toward a table situated in deep shade. “Let’s move over there. We’ll be able to spread the paperwork out, and I can share sketches and initial plans on the guest seating, ceremony timing and reception setup. I believe that when you view the ideas your sister first approved, you’ll be able to help me incorporate the modified requests.”
“Certainly, though I’m deferring to you and your expertise.”
“Yes, but you know the couple. I don’t.” She moved past him, still talking as she went. “Consider it a different type of boardroom negotiation and you’ll be fine. But treat me like the expendable lackey, and we’re going to butt heads all the way to our departing flights.”
“And that wouldn’t do, would it.”
Ella rounded on Liam and forced herself to hold her ground when she found him much closer than she’d anticipated. Tilting her head back and shielding her eyes from the sun, she fought to keep her tone level. “You’re trying to provoke me. I’m not sure why, but stop it. Neither of us gains anything if this wedding is a wreck just because you couldn’t separate the personal and professional aspects of our acquaintanceship.”
“Acquaintanceship.” Liam’s brow furrowed and his eyes darkened. “Is that what you’re calling this thing between us?”
Ella shrugged. “I don’t need to label it to enjoy it, so feel free to call it what you want. But whatever you do? Don’t, and I meando not, allow it to interfere with my job. Understand?”
He inclined his head but didn’t meet her challenging stare as he waved her toward the table she’d indicated moments before. “After you, then.”
And that...that easy capitulation left the skin across her shoulders tight even as he placed a hand so low on her back that a small shift let him slip lower, one finger caressing the skin below her sarong and bikini-clad bottom, sending warmth coursing through her. Both sensations were strong, both messages loud and clear.
The question was, which one should she listen to first?
Five hours later, with the sun beginning to set, Liam had demanded Ella take a break. The woman had grown frazzled, frustrated and kept retracing steps she’d already taken. She’d argued with him, as predicted, so he’d signaled the waiter, signed off on the check and asked her to meet him at the bungalow. Then he left, Ella still stewing in her seat. There was time yet to get her to come around, even if the timeline was tight and growing tighter. The approach had to be gentle, even subtle. If he pushed her too hard, too fast, she’d become suspicious. He didn’t want to lose the best chance he had in getting his sister to see the truth about her fiancé. Though he was feeling inexplicably guilty about the consequence to Ella should he successfully dismantle the wedding.
Settling deeper into the porch hammock, he used one foot to push off and start the swing rocking. He could fix whatever went wrong, set Ella’s business to rights with just a few well-placed calls, a timely recommendation or two and a couple of high-profile jobs he’d create on his own if he had to. And surely Jenna would use her star power and social influence to help as well. His sister was softhearted. Too much so. That had gotten her into this mess of an engagement in the first place. If she’d been more practical instead of so emotional, she’d have seen what her fiancé was after from the beginning. Thankfully, Liam had no qualms about protecting his sister. He would do what needed to be done to ensure Jenna wasn’t taken in by a con man. If love existed, his sister deserved nothing less.
One of the bungalow’s French doors opened with a softsnickbefore closing with a sharpkabam.
No apology followed.
Yep. Ella was still irritated. Maybe “pissed off” was more accurate. His insistence that Jenna wanted freshly imported tulips from Holland had seemed to send Ella over the edge. She’d typed the amendment into her computer, fingers slamming against the keys in rapid-fire fashion, and then eyed him through narrowed lids. “Anythingelse?”
That’s when he’d made his stage-left exit.
He knew he needed to smooth the proverbial waters between them to keep her focused on his revisions. The trick was to do so in a way that wouldn’t make his concerns seem overdone or his directives too controlling. He couldn’t allow her to get to the point she considered reaching out to Jenna’s assistant for confirmation. There had been a moment, maybe two, this afternoon where it had been a near thing. The woman was sharp as hell. But he’d been able to redirect her by suggesting outrageous alternatives to his “amended” requests in the hopes of making his changes seem less, well, outrageous. Which they were. He was well aware some of what he’d written in was over-the-top. He’d drafted a mental checklist of things he would need to handle himself. Then he had offered to take those tasks off her plate to help her. The blatant lying didn’t sit well with him. At all. But he’d do that and more, even worse, to spare Jenna the heartache Mike would, without a doubt, foist on her.
Liam had watched over Jenna since she’d taken her first steps, always there to ensure she wasn’t hurt if she fell, helping her get back up and take her next steps with confidence. And she had because she knew he was right there to catch her should she fall again. Liam had tended her wounds, from skinned knees after falling off her bicycle to a broken arm following a horseback-riding incident. He’d talked her through her first broken heart. He’d celebrated her first major nomination for lead actress. He’d always been there for her. Always. She’d even once admitted to him that part of her fearlessness was the knowledge he’d always be there to support her.
And then there was the oath Liam’s father had demanded from his deathbed.
First, Liam had to give his word that he would watch over Jenna. Second, his father had demanded that Liam keep Baggett Financial Services in the family and ensure that voting rights and ultimate ownership would remain at 51 percent or greater in the Baggetts’ favor. Should Liam fail, the board was ordered to replace him with a second cousin. The boy was only fourteen but had already proven a head for numbers in his boarding school. Liam had been insulted. He’d also been emotionally wrung out. The former his father dismissed; the latter was never acknowledged. Not by either Baggett.
And while he’d resented the hell out of his old man, he fully intended to keep true to his word. He didn’t take vows lightly.
Ella stepped closer, scattering his darkening thoughts like light permeating shadow. The wind toyed with loose curls that had slipped free of her sloppy topknot. Her semisheer sarong fluttered around her long, toned legs.
Liam let his eyes drift closed even as his sex awoke with a hard pulse.
He knew exactly how those legs felt when they were wrapped around him.
The wind shifted and carried with it the floral bouquet of her perfume. She was a siren. How could she be anything else? She was smart as hell, beautiful, charming, witty—all traits Liam valued in friends as well as in lovers. He’d never been lucky enough to find all of those things in one person, though. Until now. The realization was a stinging buzz in his chest, a feeling not unlike the vibration of a large gong struck in close proximity. It vibrated through him until he was forced to rub the valley between his pecs in an attempt to assuage the feeling.