with his grandfather his nonrelationship with Aubrey Holt.
“Your contest is tearing EPH apart. You have to end it.”
“Not time yet.”
“Yesterday’s meeting was a combat zone.”
“EPH will be stronger once we’re done,” Patrick said with conviction. Or was it just stubborn pride?
Liam made a conscious effort to unfurl his fists. “Not if the team disbands. We’re fighting ourselves instead of the enemy, Patrick. It’s only a matter of time before our advertisers pick up on the infighting.”
Patrick turned a hard eye on Liam. “The enemy. Holt.”
Liam’s neck prickled. “He’s not our only competition.”
“Your grandmother showed me the picture in the paper. Unfortunate error, the hostess seating you beside Holt’s daughter.”
If Patrick found out that error had cost Liam fifty bucks, his grandfather would hit the ceiling. For Patrick Elliott appearances were everything and consorting with the enemy never looked good. Liam said nothing. Instead he increased his pace and directed his attention to CNN.
Minutes later Patrick turned off his machine and Liam did the same even though he hadn’t yet reached his usual distance. “Patrick, I don’t know if the family relationships will survive this contest. We’re cutting each other’s hearts out. Reconsider. Please.”
“I’ve set a course. I’ll see it through.” Patrick wiped the sweat from his face with a white towel bearing the EPH monogram.
“No matter what the costs?”
“No matter what the costs.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“I don’t think so, son, and I’m willing to wager the company on that.”
“Good, because that’s what you’ve done. I hope you don’t live to regret it.” Hoping to ease his frustration, Liam climbed back on the treadmill and set himself a mind-numbing pace.
“Your lunch is here.”
Liam looked up from the spreadsheet. He hadn’t ordered anything. Ann, his administrative assistant, must have. “Thanks, Ann. Put it there. I’ll get to it as soon as I finish this.”
She set a bag on the corner of his desk. The Ernie’s Pub logo on the receipt caught Liam’s attention, slamming his train of thought against a wall. Nobody at EPH knew about his penchant for Ernie’s—an intentional omission. “Could you close the door on your way out?”
Her eyebrows rose. He never closed the door unless he had a private meeting. “Certainly.”
As soon as the latch clicked he shoved his paperwork aside and reached for the bag and the receipt stapled to the outside. “Bookmaker’s Special,” he read. His favorite sandwich and he knew damned well no one in this building knew that.
His heart stuttered as he tore open the folded-down top and pulled out the ordinary Styrofoam container inside. The note taped to the top of the box wasn’t in any way, shape or form ordinary. He ripped it off.
“Sorry you have to work through lunch. Enjoy. A.”
Aubrey had sent him lunch.
He didn’t know what to make of the gesture, but he sure as hell knew he shouldn’t be smiling. He tried to wipe the grin off his face, but it returned. In the midst of the tension at work his and Aubrey’s secret game was pure pleasure. Forbidden pleasure. He reached for the phone with one hand and his wallet with the other, planning to dig out her number, call her and thank her. But he set the phone back in the cradle and shoved his wallet back into his pocket.
He couldn’t call her from here. He’d call her tonight.
Tonight when it would be just the two of them.
Five
Aubrey’s phone rang, startling her into dropping her book into the bathtub. “Blast.”
She snatched up the juicy and now soggy romance, pitched it onto the vanity, grabbed a towel and dashed for the phone extension in her bedroom. She was out of breath by the time she reached it. She glanced at the clock as she grabbed the receiver. Eleven. “Hello.”
“You don’t sound as if you were sleeping.”
“Liam.” Her knees buckled. She sank down onto the mattress, not caring if she dampened the linens. “No. I wasn’t asleep.”
“Are you alone?”
“Of c—Yes.”
“You sound out of breath. Did I interrupt something?”
The wicked lilt in his voice made her heart blip erratically. What was he implying? “I was reading a book.”
“And the book made you breathless? Must be a good one. Which book?”
As if she’d tell him that she read romances because in the stories a woman could be happy with one man forever, and love at first sight lasted for eternity—unlike her mother, who’d fallen instantly in love and married four times since divorcing Aubrey’s father. The husband who’d made a pass at Aubrey had lasted less than two years, but by then Aubrey’s relationship with her mother had been irrevocably changed. “I’m not reading anything you’d be interested in.”
“How do you know?”
She sighed. “It’s a romance, Liam.”
“Ahh. A hot one?” The husky tone of his voice gave her goose bumps. No telling what he thought she’d been doing to make herself pant while reading the steamy book.
“I—I was in the tub. I had to run for the phone.” Her skin flushed at the boldness of her confession.
A low groan carried through the phone line. “You fight dirty.”
A laugh bubbled up her throat. He had no idea how unlike herself she’d behaved since meeting him—or at least the self she’d been since joining her father’s company. It was all Liam’s fault. He made her feel sexy and naughty, and he made her want to break rules for once in her life and say to hell with pleasing her father.
“Should I let you get back to your book?”
“It’ll have to dry before I can finish it.”
“Why?”
She cringed. “Because I dropped it in the tub when the phone rang.”
“Give me the title. I’ll replace it.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m the klutz, not you.”
“I’ve seen you dance. You’re no klutz. Aubrey.” he said, his voice lowering into a commanding tone that sent shivers up her spine “.give me the title.”
She
