A Very Exclusive Engagement

by Andrea Laurence

  When he told her that she was beautiful, a part of her deep inside urged her to jump on the unexpected opportunity. To give in to the attraction, however inappropriate, and make a sexy memory out of this crazy afternoon.

  She still wanted a solid, lasting relationship like her parents had. They’d been happily married for thirty years in a town where the typical wedding reception lasted longer than the vows. But having a fun fling in an elevator was in a totally different category. Liam would never be the serious kind of relationship, and she knew it, so it didn’t hurt. This was a release. An amusing way to pass the time until the power was restored.

  Francesca tightened her grip on Liam until he groaned her name into her ear.

  “I want you so badly,” he whispered. He moved his hand along the curve of her waist, gliding down to her hip, where he grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away. “You keep doing that and I won’t have the chance to do everything I want to do to you.”

  A wicked idea crossed her mind. Francesca reached out with her other hand for the half-empty bottle of water beside them. “Let me cool you off then,” she said, dumping the remains over the top of his head. The cool water soaked his hair and rushed down his face and neck to rain onto her bare skin. It was refreshing and playful, the cool water drawing goose bumps along her bare flesh.

  “Man, that felt good,” Liam said, running one hand through his wet hair as he propped himself up with the other. “I don’t want to waste it, though.” He dipped down to lick the droplets of water off her chest, flicking his tongue over her nipples again. He traveled down her stomach to where some of the water had pooled in her navel. He lapped it up with enthusiasm, making her squirm beneath him as her core tightened and throbbed in anticipation.

  His fingertips sought out the satin edge of her panties and slipped beneath them. Sliding over her neatly cropped curls, one finger parted her most sensitive spot and stroked her gently. She couldn’t contain the moan of pleasure he coaxed out of her. When he dipped farther to slip the finger deep inside her body, she almost came undone right then. The muscles tightened around him, the sensations of each stroke building a tidal wave that she couldn’t hold back for much longer.

  “Liam,” she whispered, but he didn’t stop. His fingers moved more frantically over her, delving inside and pushing her over the edge.

  Francesca cried out, her moans of pleasure bouncing off the walls of the small elevator and doubling in volume and intensity. Her hips bucked against his hand, her whole body shuddering with the feeling running through her.

  She had barely caught her breath when suddenly there was a jarring rattle. The silence was broken by the roar of engines and air units firing up, and the lights came back on in the elevator.

  “You have got to be kidding me,” he groaned.

  And then, with Liam still between her thighs and their clothes scattered around the elevator, the car started moving downward. Francesca threw a quick glance to the screen on the wall. They were on the thirty-third floor and falling. “Oh, no,” she said, pushing frantically at his chest until he eased back.

  She climbed to her feet, tugging on her skirt and yanking her bra back into place. She didn’t bother tucking in her camisole, but shrugged into her jacket. Liam followed suit, pulling on his pants and shirt. He shoved his tie into his pants pocket and threw his coat over his arm.

  “You have my lipstick all over you,” she said, noting less than ten floors to go. Liam ran his hand through his still wet hair and casually rubbed at his face, seeming to be less concerned than she was with how he looked when they walked out.

  By the time the elevator came to the first floor and the doors opened, Francesca and Liam were both fully dressed. A bit sloppy, with misaligned buttons and rumpled jackets, but dressed.

  They stepped out into the grand foyer where the building engineers and security guards were waiting for them. “Are you two—” one of the men started to speak, pausing when he saw their tousled condition “—okay?”

  Liam looked at Francesca, and she could feel her cheeks lighting up crimson with embarrassment. He still had some of her Sizzling Hot Red lipstick on his face, but he didn’t seem to care. “We’re fine,” he said. “Just hot, hungry and glad to finally be out of there. What happened?”

  “I’m not sure, sir. The whole island lost power. Wouldn’t you know it would be on such a hot day. Might’ve been everyone turning on their air conditioners for the first time today. Are you guys sure we can’t get you anything? Three hours in there had to be miserable.”

  “I’m fine,” Francesca insisted. The engineer’s expression had been a wake-up call from the passionate haze she’d lost herself in. She’d very nearly slept with her boss. Her new boss. On his first day after they’d spent the morning fighting like cats and dogs. The heat must’ve made her delirious to have thought that was a good idea.

  At least they’d been interrupted before it went too far. Now she just wanted to get a cab back to her hotel. Then she could change out of these clothes, shower and wash the scent of Liam off her skin. “Just have someone hail me a taxi to my hotel, would you?”

  The engineer waved to one of the doormen. “Sure thing. It might take a minute because the traffic lights have been out and there’s been gridlock for hours.”

  Without looking at Liam, Francesca started for the door, stepping outside to wait on the sidewalk for her car.

  “Talk about bad timing,” Liam said over her shoulder after following her outside.

  “Fate has a funny way of keeping you from doing things you shouldn’t do.”

  Liam came up beside her, but she wouldn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t. She’d just get weak in the knees and her resolve to leave would soften.

  “I’d like to think of it more as a brief interruption. To build some anticipation for later. Where are you headed?”

  “To where I was going before my whole day got sidetracked—back to my hotel. To shower and get some work done. Alone,” she added if that wasn’t clear enough.

  “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”

  “Yes, I do.” She didn’t. But going out to dinner with Liam would put her right back in the same tempting situation, although hopefully without power outages. She’d given in to temptation once and she’d been rescued from her bad decision. She wasn’t about to do it again.

  Liam watched her for a minute. Francesca could feel his eyes scrutinizing her, but she kept her gaze focused on the passing cars. “You said things wouldn’t get weird. That we both knew what this was and what happened in the elevator stayed in the elevator.”

  Francesca finally turned to him. She tried not to look into the sapphire-blue eyes that were watching her or the damp curls of his hair that would remind her of what they’d nearly done. “That’s right. And that’s where it will stay. That’s why I don’t want to go to dinner with you. Or to drinks. Or back to your place to pick up where we left off. We’ve left the elevator behind us and the opportunity has come and gone. Appreciate the moment for what it was.”

  “What it was is unfinished,” he insisted. “I’d like to change that.”

  “Not every project gets completed.” Francesca watched a taxi pull up to the curb. It was empty, thank goodness.

  “Come on, Francesca. Let me take you to dinner tonight. Even if just to say thank-you for the granola bar. As friends. I owe you, remember?”

  Francesca didn’t believe a word of that friend nonsense. They’d have a nice dinner with expensive wine someplace fancy and she’d be naked again before she knew it. As much as she liked Liam, she needed to stay objective where he was concerned. He was the new owner of ANS and she couldn’t let her head get clouded with unproductive thoughts about him. They’d come to a truce, but they hadn’t fully resolved their issues regarding her budget and the way forward for the network. She wouldn’t put it past an attractive, charming guy like Liam to use whatever tools he had in his arsenal to get his way.

  She stepped to the curb as th
e doorman opened the back door of the taxi for her.

  “Wait,” Liam called out, coming to her side again. “If you’re going to leave me high and dry, you can at least tell me what you called me today in the board meeting.”

  Francesca smiled. If that didn’t send him packing, nothing else would. “Okay, fine,” she relented. She got into the cab and rolled down the window before Liam shut it. “I called you figlio di un allevatore di maiali. That means ‘the son of a pig farmer.’ It doesn’t quite pack the same punch in English.”

  Liam frowned and stepped back from the window. The distance bothered her even though it was her own words that had driven him away. “I’d say it packs enough of a punch.”

  She ignored the slightly offended tone of his voice. He wasn’t about to make her feel guilty. He’d deserved the title at the time. “Have a good evening, Mr. Crowe,” she said before the cab pulled away and she disappeared into traffic.

  Three

  Liam had just stepped from his shower when he heard his cell phone ringing. The tune, “God Save the Queen,” made him cringe. Had he told his great aunt Beatrice he was in Manhattan? She must’ve found out somehow.

  He wrapped his towel around his waist and dashed into his bedroom where the phone was lying on the comforter. The words “Queen Bee” flashed on the screen with the photo of a tiara. His aunt Beatrice would not be amused if she knew what the rest of the family called her.

  With a sigh, he picked up the phone and hit the answer key. “Hello?”

  “Liam,” his aunt replied with her haughty Upper East Side accent. “Are you all right? I was told you were trapped in an elevator all afternoon.”

  “I’m fine. Just hungry, but I’m about to—”

  “Excellent,” she interrupted. “Then you’ll join me for dinner. There’s an important matter I need to discuss with you.”

  Liam bit back a groan. He hated eating at Aunt Beatrice’s house. Mostly because of having to listen to her go on and on about the family and how irresponsible they all were. But even then, she liked them all more than Liam because they kissed her derrière. And that was smart. She was worth two billion dollars with no children of her own to inherit. Everyone was jockeying for their cut.

  Everyone but Liam. He was polite and distant. He didn’t need her money. Or at least he hadn’t until the ANS deal came up and he didn’t have enough liquid assets to buy a majority stake quickly. Other people also were interested in the company, including leeches like Ron Wheeler, who specialized in hacking businesses to bits for profit. To move fast, Liam had had to swallow his pride and ask his aunt to invest in the remaining shares of ANS that he couldn’t afford. Together, they had controlling interest of the company, and by designating her voting powers to him, Aunt Beatrice had put Liam in charge.

  Liam had every intention of slowly buying her out over time, but he wouldn’t be able to do so for quite a while. So now, at long last, Aunt Beatrice had something to hold over his head. And when she snapped, for the first time in his life, he had to jump.

  “Dinner is at six,” she said, either oblivious or unconcerned about his unhappy silence on the end of the line.

  “Yes, Aunt Beatrice. I’ll see you at six.”

  After he hung up the phone, he eyed the clock and realized he didn’t have long to get over to her Upper East Side mansion in rush hour traffic. He’d do better to walk, so he needed to get out the door soon.

  It was just as well that Francesca had turned down his dinner date so he didn’t have to cancel. That would’ve pained him terribly, even after knowing what she’d called him.

  “Son of a pig farmer,” he muttered to himself as he got dressed.

  He opted for a gray suit with a pale purple dress shirt and no tie. He hated ties and only wore them when absolutely necessary. Today, he’d felt like he needed to look important and in control at the board meeting. He didn’t want the ANS directors to think they were in the hands of a laid-back dreamer. But as soon as he had a strong foothold in the company, the ties would be gone.

  Tonight, he left it off simply because he knew to do so would aggravate Aunt Beatrice. She liked formal dress for dinner but had given up long ago on the family going to that much trouble. She did, however, still expect a jacket and tie for the men and a dress and hosiery for the ladies. It was only proper. Leaving off the tie would be a small but noted rebellion on his part. He didn’t want her to think she had him completely under her thumb.

  It wasn’t until he rang the doorbell that he remembered her mentioning something about an important issue she wanted to discuss. He couldn’t imagine what it could be, but he sincerely hoped it didn’t involve him dating someone’s daughter. Aunt Beatrice was single-minded in her pursuit of marriage and family for Liam. He couldn’t fathom why she cared.

  “Good evening, Mr. Crowe,” her ancient butler Henry said as he opened the door.

  Henry had worked for his aunt Liam’s entire life and a good number of years before that. The man was in his seventies now but as spry and chipper as ever.

  “Good evening, Henry. How is she tonight?” he asked, leaning in to the elderly man and lowering his voice.

  “She’s had a bee in her bonnet about something all afternoon, sir. She made quite a few calls once the power was restored.”

  Liam frowned. “Any idea what it’s about?”

  “I don’t. But I would assume it involves you because you were the only one invited to dinner this evening.”

  That was odd. Usually Aunt Beatrice invited at least two family members to dinner. She enjoyed watching them try to one-up each other all night and get in her good favor. It really was a ridiculous exercise, but it was amazing what the family would do just because she asked. His grandfather, Aunt Beatrice’s brother, had never had much to do with her, so neither did that branch of the family. It was only after all the others of the generation had died that she took over as matriarch. Then, even Liam’s part of the family was drawn back into the fold.

  Liam held his tongue as Henry led him through the parlor and into the formal dining room. When a larger group was expected, Aunt Beatrice would greet her guests in the parlor and then adjourn to the dining room when everyone had arrived. Apparently because it was just him they bypassed the formalities and went straight to dinner.

  Aunt Beatrice was there in her seat at the head of the long, oak table, looking regal as always. Her gray hair was curled perfectly, her rose chiffon dress nicely accented by the pink sapphire necklace and earrings she paired with it. She didn’t smile as he entered. Instead, she evaluated him from top to bottom, her lips tightening into a frown when she noted his lack of tie.

  “Good evening, Aunt Beatrice,” he said with a wide smile to counter her grimace. He came around the table and placed a kiss on her cheek before sitting down at the place setting to her right.

  “Liam,” she said, acknowledging him without any real warmth. That’s why he’d always thought of her as royalty. Stiff, formal, proper. He couldn’t imagine what she would have been like if she had married and had children. Children would require laughter and dirt—two things unthinkable in this household.

  Henry poured them each a glass of wine and disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve their first course. Liam hated to see the old man wait on him. He should be in a recliner, watching television and enjoying his retirement, not serving meals to privileged people capable of doing it themselves. The man had never even married. He had no life of his own outside of this mansion.

  “When are you going to let Henry retire?” he asked. “The poor man deserves some time off before he drops dead in your foyer.”

  Aunt Beatrice bristled at the suggestion. “He loves it here. He wouldn’t think of leaving me. And besides, Henry would never die in the foyer. He knows how expensive that Oriental rug is.”

  Liam sighed and let the subject drop. Henry placed bowls of soup in front of them both and disappeared again. “So, what have you summoned me here to discuss tonight?” He might as well just
get it over with. There was no sense waiting for the chocolate soufflé or the cheese course.

  “I received a phone call today from a man named Ron Wheeler.”

  Liam stiffened in his seat and stopped his spoon of soup in midair. Ron Wheeler was in the business of buying struggling companies and “streamlining” them. That usually involved laying off at least half the employees and hacking up the benefits packages of the ones who were left. Then he’d break the company up into smaller pieces and sell them off for more than the price of the whole. No one liked to hear the mention of his name. “And what did he have to say?”

  “He heard I’d bought a large portion of Graham Boyle’s ANS stock. He’s made me an extremely generous offer to buy it.”

  At that, Liam dropped his spoon, sending splatters of butternut squash all across the pristine white tablecloth. Henry arrived in an instant to clean up the mess and bring him a new spoon, but Liam didn’t want it. He couldn’t stomach the idea of food at this point.

  “Aunt Beatrice, your holding is larger than mine. If you sell him your stock, he’ll gain majority control of the company. The whole network will be at risk.”

  She nodded, setting down her own spoon. “I realize that. And I know how important the company is to you. But I also want you to know how important this family is to me. I won’t be around forever, Liam. This family needs someone strong and smart to run it. You don’t need me to tell you that most of our relatives are idiots. My two sisters never had any sense and neither did their children. My father knew it, too, which is why he left most of the family money to me and your grandfather. He knew they’d all be broke and homeless without someone sensible in charge.”