The Elliotts: Bedrooms Not Boardrooms!. Maureen Child
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“How am I going to get you into trouble? All I sent was a sandwich. You sent the most amazing bouquet. All the admins are talking.” Aubrey absently blotted the droplets on her shoulders with her towel.
“The atmosphere at EPH is … tense, but your lunch surprise had me smiling all afternoon. The staff probably wonders what I’m up to. Thanks for sending the sandwich.”
“You’re welcome. I hope the rest of your week improves.”
“Yours, too. Anything I can do to help?”
She gulped. Yes, spill your guts about EPH’s problems and then give me permission to share the information with my father. “I think I have it under control.”
Silence stretched between them. Aubrey didn’t want to hang up, but she couldn’t think of a thing to say to keep him on the line. Why did this man have the power to make her tongue-tied?
“You know where I live. How about you even the score?”
Her fingers contracted on the damp towel. “I’m around the corner on Fifth, only a couple of blocks up from you.”
“That close?”
“Yes.”
“We could meet—”
“No, Liam, we can’t.” But she wanted to. She really, really wanted to.
“Right. I should say good night and hang up, but I know if I do I’ll just lie here and think about you. Tell me how to stop thinking about that afternoon, Aubrey.”
Her breath jammed in her throat. “I can’t. Because I’m having the same problem. Do you think it’s just the taboo thing? Wanting what we can’t have?”
She wouldn’t know. She always dated men her father would approve of.
“Maybe. Probably. I don’t know. You said I got you out of the tub. You must be cold.”
Cold? No, her skin burned. It was a wonder the remaining droplets on her skin didn’t sizzle like butter in a hot pan. “I’ll get back in when we’re finished.”
“Why wait? Do you have a portable extension?”
She bit her lip. “You want to talk to me while I’m in the tub? Is this going to turn into an obscene phone call?”
His seductive laugh warmed her even more. “Do you want it to?”
Aubrey pressed a hand to the booming in her chest. “I’m not sure. I’ve never had one.”
“Good to know.”
“Have you? Had an obscene call, I mean?”
“No. But it might be interesting.”
She twisted the corner of the towel in her fingers. “Maybe. If it wasn’t icky and if the person making it wasn’t a psycho or a thirteen-year-old boy.”
“Good night, Aubrey. You’ll be hearing from me soon.” And then he disconnected.
She slowly replaced the receiver. What did he mean, she’d hear from him? The book? Or would he call again? She was ashamed to admit she hoped he’d call. She loved listening to Liam’s voice. And she really enjoyed knowing he was having as much trouble forgetting their lovemaking as she was.
Not lovemaking. Sex. And no matter how much she wanted more, a steamy memory was all it could ever be. Her father would never forgive her for sleeping with a rival, and as long as she worked for Holt Enterprises and lived in a family-owned apartment, she had to follow her father’s rules.
Twenty-nine and still following Daddy’s rules. There was something pitifully not right about that.
“What a bitch of a day,” Liam muttered as he poured himself a glass of wine and took a healthy sip.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, he rolled the rich pinot noir around in his mouth, savoring the cherry bouquet and smooth finish. He finished half a glass before the calming effect of the heavy red wine kicked in, soothing his jagged nerves.
This afternoon he’d fielded a flurry of calls from advertisers wanting to know if there were problems within EPH and demanding assurances Liam couldn’t give them. What had tipped them off to the internal strife? Patrick had all but levied a gag order on the company employees, but there had to be a leak somewhere. Having the advertisers get fidgety could cause EPH’s advertising revenues to drop. He’d have to speak to the sales managers and remind them to keep EPH’s internal dissention to themselves.
The clock on the microwave revealed the late hour. Liam had worked through lunch and dinner. Cooking didn’t appeal. Going out appealed even less. But he had to eat because he had plans for later that required him to keep his mind sharp. His pulse quickened in anticipation. At the same time his stomach knotted. His plan was unwise. Foolish.
Fun.
He pulled a frozen casserole from the freezer and shoved it into the microwave. An executives’ catering company supplied him with precooked meals for the nights he was too tired to cook. The service provided all the benefits of having a personal chef without having anyone underfoot in his apartment. And if he had a hot date he had the option of having the chef prepare a gourmet meal and clear out before his company arrived. Not an option he’d used yet.
While his dinner defrosted he settled on a bar stool at his granite kitchen counter, sipped his wine and studied the bottle and the label. Louret Winery, a small outfit in Napa Valley, California, had become one of Liam’s favorite producers since he’d discovered their wines last year. He promised himself a tour of the facility as soon as the dust settled at EPH. As far as he was concerned, that date couldn’t come soon enough.
An hour later he’d eaten, showered the knots from his shoulders. Now he sat beside the phone with his heart thumping a wild beat and a different kind of tension tightening his muscles. Adrenaline flowed through his veins as the clock inched toward midnight. As soon as the hands hit twelve he punched out the number.
“Hello?”
His pulse nearly deafened him to Aubrey’s soft voice. “This is an obscene phone call. Hang up if you’re not interested.”
He heard Aubrey gasp, but she didn’t sever the connection.
“Are you alone?” he asked in as low and sexy a voice as he could manage—not difficult considering his throat had closed up.
“Yes. Are you?”
“Not anymore.” A crazy answer. Of course he was alone, but having Aubrey on the line made him feel less lonely—an emotion Liam had experienced far too frequently since Patrick’s contest made him all too often the unwelcome messenger bearing bad news. “What are you wearing?”
“A smile.”
His brain nearly imploded. He gulped his wine. “Anything else?”