Wilde Heart (Wilde Women Book 2) (12 page)

“Um, Rhiann,” she heard a small voice mutter.

Spinning on her heels, she found one of their interns, a meek little country girl, smiling shyly.

“What’s up, Shayne?” she asked, glad for the interruption.

“Well,” the girl began hesitantly. Pointing over her shoulder, she jerked her finger back and stammered. “There’s a man over there. He wants to speak with you. When you’re . . . er,
available.
”

Rhiann didn’t even have to look to know who she was referring to. He wanted to
speak
to her? When she was
available?
Her exaggerated eye roll was inevitable.

“Thanks, Shayne,” she muttered, reaching out to pat the girl’s arm. “I’ll take care of it.”

Over her shoulder, she heard Juan snicker loudly and murmur, “Mmmhmm.”

Crap.

Rather than get into it with her assistant, she just walked away—self-consciously smoothing down the sides of her outfit. A tad shorter than what she normally preferred, the black mini-skirt she’d teamed with dark hosiery and a pair of killer heels went a long way to bolstering her confidence.

Pushing her hair behind her ears, Rhi fussed with the soft ruffle that fell from the collar of her blouse. Employing the avoidance technique that hadn’t worked particularly well last time, Rhiann strode forward as confidently as she could but made sure not to meet his eyes. She wasn’t sure if she was avoiding his gaze or guarding hers. Still bursting with anger and bewildered by what she’d discovered about the man yanking her chain, she was sure she could light his arrogant, uptight ass on fire with one look.

“I hope this isn’t an interruption,” he murmured politely as she approached.

Giving her antagonizer a wide berth, Rhiann scooted behind him and made for the coffee service. Pouring the first hot beverage she could find into a cup, she glanced sideways at him with a hostile smirk. “Would it matter if it was?”

He didn’t say anything as she finished getting her drink and could have sworn she heard him counting under his breath. She was surprised when he let her surly response go without mention.

“Is there someplace we could speak, Rhiann?”

There was a reason guys like him were the ones with all the control. He opened with a challenge and effortlessly but quite specifically tossed the ball into her court. Like a grenade. The next move was up to her. She could tell him to eat shit and die a horrible death or she could give in and let him have his way. He wanted to
speak
with her.
Ugh.
Prick. She was trapped, and he knew it.

“I’m just heading back upstairs,” she told him rather snippily without looking his way. Shrugging nonchalantly she said, “My office, I suppose.”

“Lead the way,” he replied with a gallant nod of his head as he swept his hand outward indicating she should proceed.

Doing everything she could to pretend he wasn’t right there at her shoulder, Rhi’s heels tapped out a distinctive cadence as they marched side by side from the reception area of the big meeting room toward a bank of elevators.

“Your team seemed in high spirits as they left. A good meeting, I take it?”

She was tempted to throw a
Yes, sir
at him but decided against it.
Fuck that.
She wasn’t playing any more games with him. From now on, he gets silence or one-word answers.

“Yep.”

At the elevator, he leaned in and beat her hand to the call button. Stabbing at it, he told her, “Watch your coffee.”

Oh, right.
She had coffee that was seconds away from spilling down her front. Lifting the large covered cup to her lips, she took a hearty gulp and instantly regretted it when nuclear heat hit her throat. Choking on a sputter, Rhi’s eyes watered and she tried to cool the burn with a quick inhale that earned a concerned look from the man at her side.

“Give me that,” he scolded as he took the coffee from her hand and patted her on the back as she gasped like a fish out of water.

The doors to the elevator slid open and he guided her in, quickly punching the CLOSE DOOR button and giving everyone nearby a fierce glare.
Yeah, right.
Like that was necessary? No one in his or her right mind would voluntarily get into a small, enclosed space with Chief Scowling Face.

Oh crap.
What did that make her? Either out of her mind or . . .

Just as the doors began the slow slide shut, Rhiann caught a glimpse of Kim Walsh storming down the hallway and if the caustic, angry glare she directed at Rhi was any indication—the lady was none too happy about finding her alone in an elevator with Liam.
Fuck my life.

“You know,” her elevator companion muttered with what might have been an attempt at humor as he held up the coffee cup and gestured, “it says right here . . .
Caution. Hot.
”

Don’t bite the bait,
her mind screamed.
Say nothing.
A couple of heartbeats thumped out and then her mouth took off and started running.
Aaarrgghh.

“You’re, uh . . . Mrs. Walsh was trying to get your attention just now.”

“I know. I saw.”

Was he kidding? She got that he didn’t owe her or anyone else an explanation, but he wasn’t even trying. Suddenly, she didn’t give rat’s ass that he wanted to speak to her. Really. They had nothing to say. She wasn’t sure she even liked him at this point.

Liar!
screamed the voice in her heart.

Letting her smart ass off its tether, Rhi doubled down and went for the gold just before the elevator floated to a stop at her floor.

“What’s that called?” she asked frostily. “Tycoon with benefits?”

This time when he looked at her, she didn’t glance away. He seemed clueless. How the hell, exactly, did he do that?

“I don’t understand. What’s
what
called?”

Shaking her head in disbelief, she fled the elevator when the doors opened and walked rapidly down the long hallway to her office.

He was hot on her heels, entering immediately after and quietly shutting the door. Oh, no. Maybe coming in here wasn’t a bright idea.

“Do you want any more of this?” he asked, hoisting the coffee. “Or was it just a prop to keep from smacking me?”

With a black glare, she took the cup and dropped it in a trashcan with a bratty grunt.

Moving behind her desk, hoping the barrier would keep him at bay, she churlishly asked, “What do you want to
speak
with me about.”

Crossing her arms defensively in front of her chest, Rhi tried for a stern, no-nonsense expression.

“Yes, yes—I do have something to discuss but first tell me what you meant.”

She arched an eyebrow at him and gave him a blank look that read,
Huh? What?

He came around the desk at her with the speed and agility of a jungle cat. No surprise there. Where his birthday fell made him a Leo. Didn’t that make him king of the jungle? Might also explain why she had such a hard time hanging on to her confidence when he got close. In addition to the lion-sized ego, he exuded a captivating masculinity that fucked with her head.

“Don’t even, Rhiann. You know perfectly well what I’m referring to. Tycoon benefits? Explain, please.”

The grumble she heard in his voice let her know she’d ticked him off.
Yeah. Whatever.
He can be as ticked off as he wants. She got there first, which meant he could pretty much go shit in his hat.

Thinking she was putting his arrogant ass in its place, she sneered, “You and Mrs. Walsh. I believe in this scenario—you are the tycoon and she would be the benefit.”

“What?” he barked. “Who told you that?”

H
mmph.
Just as she suspected. Not an outright denial. More interested in who spilled the beans. Tycoon problems. She sighed.
Now
Rhi wanted to smack him ‘cause dammit, she’d wanted him to say it wasn’t so. Defeated and tired of this game—whatever it was—she slumped ever so slightly and asked again, “What do you want, Liam? Just spit it out. I’m a little busy here earning a paycheck.”

He was standing so close that backing her into a corner took no effort at all. When he searched her face, she desperately tried to show no emotion.

“There’s nothing between me and Kim Walsh. She’s a business associate. Nothing more. If someone has implied otherwise . . . well, they’d be incorrect.”

When she didn’t respond or meet his gaze, he touched her arm lightly. “Rhiann?”

“It’s none of my business,” she choked out.

Putting his big hands on her arms, he ran them up and down a few times, from shoulder to elbow.
Aw, goddammit.
Not fair. His touch scattered her emotions.

“Oh, hell yeah, it’s your business,
milaya,
” he husked.

It was too much. Him calling her by that name. His closeness. The way her arms tingled where he stroked her. Why wouldn’t he stay away?

They stared at each other until her bottom lip started to tremble. She hated him. She wanted him. She was afraid of him. She was drawn to him. Why?
Why?

He must have known that she was close to breaking when he stepped back and put his arm around her waist, guiding her bottom until she was perched on the edge of the desk with him quite literally wedged between her knees.

Putting his fingers beneath her chin, he forced her to look at him.

“Rhiann,” he drawled. “It’s more your business than you could possibly imagine.”

She didn’t understand his cryptic answers.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered.

He put his hands on either side of her face and offered a quirky half grin. “I know you can’t, and I’m sorry you think there’s anything
for
you to do. I came at this all wrong, but I’m going to change that, okay?”

She didn’t have a damn clue what he was talking about, but she was enjoying the way his strong, masculine fingers were touching her face. She nodded so he wouldn’t stop.

“Are you still traveling to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving?”

Thanksgiving? Where did that come from?

“Um . . . yeah,” she answered. “Nana and the family.”

He nodded as his thumbs gently stroked along her jaw and she swallowed heavily.

“I don’t want you hassling with the train so I’ve made my car and driver available to you.”

“What for?”

Liam sighed and his head shook fractionally. “To take you to your gathering, of course. I want you to use my car.”

Rhiann studied his handsome, scowling face for a minute and frowned in confusion. He wanted her to use his car, but why?

“No, no, no, no, no!” she chanted. “That’s silly. The train is a direct shot.”

“I don’t care,” he told her. “You shouldn’t have to manage the train. Wouldn’t you rather sit back and relax for the drive?”

“Well, sure,” she admitted. “But can you imagine my folks when I show up in a chauffeured car?
Your
chauffeured car.”

He let go of her face and lightly tapped her on the nose. “Hadn’t thought of that. You could tell them it’s from the magazine.”

Without his hands on her, Rhi’s sense returned in a hurry.

“Liam, no. I can’t. I can’t make up stories to tell my family.”

As soon as she said the words, the hypocrisy washed back onto her. They’d made a study of making up stories and lying to her family.

“Then, I’ll drive you myself.”

She startled and began to object when he told her sharply, “And
no
—I’m not asking for an invite. I don’t do holidays.
Ever.
But if it’ll convince you to accept the ride, I’ll cloak and dagger the arrangements, drop you off down the street, and stay off the grid till you’re ready to return. No one will be any the wiser and I’ll know you’re safe.”

He was being ridiculous and high-handed, but there was something about his tone and the gentle way he was handling Rhi that made her pause and think. It did not help at all that he was standing between her legs.

Glancing at him from beneath lowered lashes, she detected a show of nerves on his part.
Ohhhh.
So, he wasn’t all that sure of himself. Why the thought should make her so happy wasn’t rocket science.

He might stride the globe like an imperial goliath, wielding power and influence wherever he went, but when it came to her, he was out of his element. She made him nervous. That meant he had some sort of feelings for her. Didn’t it?

Suddenly, doing an about-face that Rhi prayed she wouldn’t regret, she lightened up and gave him a halfhearted smile. “Thank you for the offer. You certainly don’t have to drive though, really.”

A real, honest-to-Batman smile broke out across his face. Her calm surrender seemed to please him very much. She felt a warm blush creep up her neck.

And then, without so much as a murmur, he took her mouth in a slow, sexy ravishment that left a puddle beneath her.

When it was over, he kissed her on the forehead, muttered, “
Milaya moya,
” then turned and swiftly left her office.

My sweetness.

Oh, my.
What had she done?

H
EAD BOWED, ONE ARM STRAIGHT, and hand upon the tile wall of the shower—Liam stood beneath the steaming hot cascade of water pounding on his shoulders, running in streams down the length of his body.