Elizabeth McNeal: Sure. He’s great for a hobbit.
Seconds later, I received his reply.
William Baxter: I’m talking about Bilbo Baggins on Queen St. Meet me there at seven for dinner.
My heart rammed itself into my throat. Was he crazy? A public meal. Alone!
I took in several deep breaths. This was a bad idea. A really, really, really bad idea. I’d been there a few times. Hello, I had a kid who was a Lord of the Rings enthusiast. It was pretty much a tourist attraction, which I was sure was why he suggested that location. It was unlikely anyone would recognize him there.
Smart, but still stupid.
Against my better judgement, I replied to his message with an affirmative.
At seven o’clock, I arrived nervous as hell. If anyone were to see us together they would more than likely think we were having a simple business dinner, however, I couldn’t shake the feeling we were pushing the envelope a bit too far. This was a dangerous game we were playing with some seriously high stakes.
I walked in the door and smiled. The smell of savory dishes and sweet wine floated in the air. A beautiful rustic decor with lots of greenery and stained glass windows created a simplistic yet tasteful establishment.
My eyes roamed around the room in search of Liam. I didn’t have to look very far. At a table in the far back corner, he waited, partially concealed from a somewhat noisy crowd. Our eyes met, and a slow smile bloomed across his face. I wondered if anyone noticed his smile the same way I did. His teeth weren’t perfectly straight, but those crooked bottom teeth added to his charm.
I started toward the table, lost in the sight of him. Early that morning, I’d watched him dress in a sexy as hell three-piece suit, matched with one of my favorite shirts, and a tie that was unspeakably ugly. Almost as if to appease me, the monstrous tie was gone but so were the jacket and vest. What was left was a comfortable man, wearing a button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled to show his strong, tanned arms, and a black metal watch. Needless to say, he made me weak in the knees.
“Hey, you.” Liam stood up and maneuvered around the table to pull out my chair for me. While his gesture was endearing, I looked around for spectators.
“It’s fine,” he whispered close to my ear. “No one’s watching. I promise.”
“I know. I know.” His actions were so sweet and there I was tainting them. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I understand. It’s not like we’ve never been seen in public alone before. Just act natural.”
Natural! How the hell was I supposed to act natural when every nerve in my body was firing simultaneously? I pushed down the panic inside me. It was foolish of me to be so overly concerned. Liam was right. No one would think anything of this. He was a candidate having dinner with his campaign manager. Nothing more.
I smiled, slipped into the chair, and permitted him to help me tuck it under the table.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.”
Liam waved toward a waiter, as he settled back into his seat. “I just arrived myself.”
“What made you choose this place?”
“It’s close to your house,” he leaned in and whispered, “which is where I intend on this night ending.”
“Oh?” My eyes widened at his insinuation. “Oh!”
Air crackled all around us, charged with wanton expectation. I draped my napkin over my knees, forcing myself to maintain my composure.
“Rather confident in yourself, don’t you think?”
Liam cracked his knuckles. “Damn right I am.”
The waiter arrived and we placed our drink orders. Or should I say, Liam ordered for the both of us. Under normal circumstances I would’ve tore into a man for being so presumptuous. No one but me knew what I wanted, but with Liam I had no sudden knee-jerk reaction. His chivalrous nature comforted me, which was odd, because I was a woman set in her ways. I’d shied away from romance for so long I’d forgotten it even existed. I viewed the world through scandal-colored glasses, always looking for an angle in every situation. Yet all my prickly, stubborn edges didn’t frighten him away. Instead he smoothed and polished them.
I fidgeted with my silverware, straightening each piece.
Liam’s hand slipped across the table toward mine. Out of instinct, I yanked back.
“Are you nuts?” I growled. “We’re in public.”
Liam leaned back in his chair, clenching both fists against the table. “You zoned out on me. I was trying to get your attention.”
My shoulders dropped as I exhaled. “I’m sorry. I did it again.”
His balled fists relaxed against the surface. “It’s okay. I get it.”
I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”
He tilted his head to the side, his eyes full of compassion. “Then explain it to me.”
I wiggled my fingers, shaking my hands in front of my chest. “I don’t know how to do this, Liam.”
“Do what?”
I jerked my hand out toward the restaurant. “This.”
A glimmer of a grin appeared on his lips. “Have dinner?”
“Gah!” I hissed. “No. You. Public. Dating without dating.”
His gaze rested on mine, a forlorn grimace harrowing his brow. “All I wanted was to spend an evening with you that didn’t consist of us being stuck inside the house or at the office. It’s not like I’m going to make out with you here.”
My eyes grew wide. “You better not!”
Liam straightened his back and lifted his brows. “Are you trying to challenge me, Elizabeth? We both know how I handle a challenge.”
I gulped, my knowledge quite extensive on what a challenge with Liam entailed. “Do you want to commit political suicide?”
Liam’s foot brushed up along my calf, hooking behind my knee, and pulling my leg between his. “No, and I’m being careful, but you can’t blame a man who wants to enjoy the company of his girlfriend in public.”
My heart swelled inside my chest. I closed my eyes, unable to contain my smile at his words. “Girlfriend?”
“Yes.” His hand slipped beneath the table. I fought to remain still, as his finger circled my knee. “You’re my girlfriend, Elizabeth McNeal. My strong, smart, independent, gorgeous girlfriend. And once this is all over, I intend on spending many nights holding your hand and kissing your sexy lips, in public.”
Elation. Pure joy pulsed through my veins. I rubbed my foot along the back of his leg. “Is that a promise?”
“It’s more than a promise. It’s a…oh, shit!”
Quick as a flash, Liam’s hand disappeared from my knee and the warmth of his leg was gone from mine.
Panic surged inside me. “What?”
I followed Liam’s pale stare. My stomach plummeted at the sight of Gerald Samford entering the restaurant with a large party.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
No sooner had those words left my mouth did the rich old fart notice us. He waved his frail hand and grinned.
I tucked my hair behind my ear. “Okay. Keep calm.”
“I am calm.”
“I was talking to myself,” I hissed.
“Well, then, keep coaching yourself, because he’s coming this way.”
No problem. I had this. I’d charmed and lied my way out of many ugly situations. We were safe as long as neither of us lost our shit.
Fine. As long as I didn’t lose my shit.
“Congressman,” Samford’s wavering voice came from behind me. “And the lovely Ms. McNeal.”
I turned in my chair and plastered on my most polished smile. “Gerald Samford! What a pleasant surprise. How are you?” I stood up and shook hands with the old man. Liam followed suit.
“Not as good as our dear boy,” Samford boasted.
“You flatter me, sir.”
Samford wafted his hand. “Pish posh.”
Liam and I returned to our seats, but not before Liam did the unthinkable and held my chair for me. I tried to gauge the loo
k on the old man’s face, but it remained unfazed. He probably thought nothing of it. After all, he did come from a generation where men held doors for ladies.
Ah, the good old days.
A lull of silence ensued. Then, as courteous as ever, Liam extended a hand. “Would you care to join us?”
“Thank you, but I can’t. Tonight’s my great granddaughter’s birthday. This is her favorite restaurant. I should probably get back to them.”
“Wish her a happy birthday on our behalf,” Liam beseeched.
“Will do.” The old man’s eyes bounced back and forth between us. A wild, full grin appeared. “Unless Ms. McNeal would care to accompany me as my date.”
I tittered. “That’s sweet, but the Congressman and I have much to discuss.”
“I’m sure you do.” He gave Liam a wink. “You’re a lucky man to have such a beautiful woman by your side.”
Liam folded his hands under his chin, resting his elbows on the table. “I tend to agree.”
“You remember what I told you at the party?” Samford hinted.
“I do, sir. And do you recall what I said?”
The two men shared a defiant stare before they laughed together. I was lost as to what the hell they were talking about. Samford patted my shoulder with a quaking hand. “He’s the real deal. A rarity in this town.” His bony fingers squeezed into my flesh.
“That he is.”
Samford released his grip on me. “Try the duck. It’s delicious.” He glanced back at his party being seated. “I must go. Call my office next week, Ms. McNeal. I’m sure there are things we need to discuss.”
My cheeks rose again with my cultivated grin. “Of course.”
Once the old man stepped away, Liam groused, “I really hate that smile.”
Insulted, I glared at him. “You hate my smile?”
“No. I said I hate that smile. The one you use when dealing with constituents. I love the smile you share with only me.”
And that very smile exploded across my face. “I love the one you share with me, too.” I glanced over my shoulder at the old man. “I have to ask, what were you two talking about?”
Liam rubbed his hand along his jaw, chuckling. “I probably shouldn’t tell you.”
“Tell me!”
Liam pressed his knuckles to his lips, holding back his grin. “You remember the party at Harper’s right after we met?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, Mr. Samford informed me that there was nothing sexier than having the woman above you, beneath you.”
I gasped and jerked my head to look at the old man again. “No! He didn’t.”
“He did. He told me that if I were smart, I’d whip you hard and show you who was boss.”
“Oh my God! He’s a dirty old man!”
“Pretty much.”
“Where the hell was I when he said this?”
“Standing right next to him.”
“No!”
“Yes. I was shocked when you said nothing. Then I noticed Victor and realized why you didn’t.”
Laughter bubbled in my chest. “I would’ve died had I heard him. What did you say?”
“I informed him that behind every good man was a great woman and that I’d lucked out, because you’re better than great. You’re the best. And I’d be a damned fool if I thought about whipping you.”
A skewed smile arched at my lips as I brushed my bangs away from my face. “You mean there are no foreseeable spankings in our future?”
Liam’s playful grin turned to a smoldering one. He bowed his head, his eyes molesting me as he dipped his voice low and seductive. “My dear, Elizabeth, I promise I’ll never whip you into submission. I love your spunky nature too much for that. But I also promise to spank that tight ass of yours until it’s cherry red before fucking you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight for days.” Confidence radiated from him.
Goodbye appetite. Hello drenched thighs and an ache between my legs.
There was no way I could maintain my composure after that. We had to get out of there and fast or I would pounce him, right there, for the world to see.
“Let’s go.”
“We haven’t eaten,” Liam protested.
“Forget food. I want you. Now!”
Liam waved down the waiter and paid for our drinks. We were out of the restaurant as quick as a flash, and at my house even faster. Neither of us cared to see if Samford was paying attention to our abrupt departure. All we knew was we needed each other right then. Appearances didn’t matter. Especially when Samford proved to be a perv.
Millionaires. Go figure.
Surrounded by darkness, except for the illuminating glow of the running projector, I struggled to maintain my wit about me. I shifted in my seat, my body tense and my breathing shallow. No matter where I moved Liam was there. His warmth, his scent, the sound of his breath were all amplified by the darkness. My blood sizzled, aching to be skin to skin with him, but that wasn’t an option.
Not here.
Not now.
Instead, I was stuck in this boiling hot conference room, watching the latest television ad. If I was to do my job, I’d scrutinize every word, every color, every frame of the reel, but no. My mind wasn’t on work. I was focused on the way Liam’s knee brushed against mine under the table.
God, those muscular legs of his. Thick. Manly. Leading up toward...
As I thought about a naked, sweating Liam hovering over me, his body entering mine, connecting us beyond time and space, a shiver ripped through me.
Since our little near-miss at the restaurant, I’d been on high alert. Liam attempted to convince me that I was overreacting and that we were only setting ourselves up for failure by staying in the shadows, but I refused to listen. Between raging libidos and deep, dark secrets, I feared I couldn’t trust myself past the strain of the work day. On the days Liam ventured into headquarters, my bitch-o-meter skyrocketed from its typical four-point-eight to an alarmingly high nine-point-oh. And when Liam was in a particularly teasing mood, I broke the scales. But I had to admit, I looked forward to our evenings after a day such as that.
Today had been one of those days. From the moment he entered the building, we’d been at each other’s throats. The staff thought nothing of it. Liam and I, on the other hand, were well aware of the strain we were placing on ourselves.
Liam adjusted in his seat. Where his knee had once touched mine, his long fingers were in its place. My mouth was dry. My throat thick with want. Every inch of me quivered with desire. No amount of Kegels could compress the ache between my thighs.
Inch by delicious inch, his hand slid under my skirt. Knowing he couldn’t push the envelope too far, but just enough to drive me wild, he was in no rush with his torture. His hand on my inner thigh felt cold as ice and hot as hell, confusing my senses.
The room was full of people. On either side of us sat Scout and Aaron. The rest of the table included various members of the staff and the film’s director. This was the worst place to lose control, yet the animal inside me roared for release.
I narrowed my eyes to Liam. On the outside, he appeared calm and cool, but I knew that look in his eyes. He was crazed on the inside. Driven by want. He was as consumed by the buzz of passion between us, just as I was. We were both on the brink of breaking when the lights flipped on.
“Well?” Both of us exhaled at the same time. At the end of the table, the director looked at me with expectation. “Elizabeth? What do you think?”
I had no clue what I thought. The commercial was a blur of Liam tantalizing me. I rolled my shoulders and pushed back from the table, forcing him to drop his hand. Typically, I was a quick witted, think on my toes kind of gal. Not this time. My head was all mush. But I had to do something before we exposed ourselves.
I stood up and walked around toward the screen where Liam’s slogan was plastered in shades of red, white, and blue. My hands bounced against my thighs, as I stared at the wall. “You can’t tel
l me this is the final cut.”
The director hissed a curse under his breath.
I about faced, glaring at him. “Really? This was your idea of a final. I should fire you right now for such impudence. I told you I want bold. Young. Expressive. You gave me old fashioned, boring, and tired.” I flung my arm toward the screen. “We’re trying to sell to the younger voters while playing on the heartstrings of the older ones. They’re supposed to fall in love with him. See him as new and refreshing. The breath of life our state and country need. What you gave me was another politician using the same old antics.”
“I did what you want─”
I lifted my hand, stopping the director mid-sentence. “No, you didn’t. Try again.”
“I didn’t think it was bad,” Liam piped in.
I tilted my head to Liam, dragging my fingers along the length of my ponytail. “Really? And you have so much experience in this area of campaigning, do ya?”
Liam lifted from his chair in a fluid motion. “You’re right. This isn’t my area of expertise─”
I pointed to him. “Ha! Exactly! But it is mine.”
“As you’ve told us all a million times,” he sneered.
Perfect. He’d picked up on my cue. Time to keep up appearances.
“Excuse me?” I challenged.
Liam raised an eyebrow, staring me down. The crackle of desire electrified between us. It was a miracle no one noticed. Well, almost no one. Aaron and Scout’s eyes bounced back and forth, neither saying a word, as they followed along with our ruse.
“Unless you’re going deaf, I believe you heard me.”
“I’ve had just about enough of your crap today!” I yelled.
“Oh really? Because I happen to disagree with the great Elizabeth McNeal?”
Gasps and whispers filled the air around us. He was really putting on a good show.
“That’s it. My office. Now.”
Aaron rolled his eyes. Scout shook her head and began messing with her cellphone.
Liam took a step toward me, almost prowling. “You’re not the boss of me.”
Politically Incorrect Page 20
