was running out of time.
Nobody in Seattle refused to take his calls and Teresa St. Claire wouldn’t be the first.
Liam stepped into the large open-plan office and met the wide eyes of the young receptionist sitting behind a sleek desk. Early twenties, first job out of college, wide eyes and desperate to please. Child’s play.
“I’m on my way to see Ms. St. Claire.”
Liam had to give her credit; she did jump up from her desk and did try to run after him, but his legs were longer and her headphones were connected to her laptop. Besides, he was a foot taller, bigger and broader; how on earth could she stop him?
Walking across the open-plan offices, he ignored the buzz of chatter his presence generated and ignored the eyes boring into his back. Limitless Events occupied one corner of the top floor of this building and high, arched windows flooded the office with natural light. He flicked a glance outside; it was still raining, and he thought that Teresa had a hell of a view. Slowing down, he approached a messy desk in front of the only self-contained office and growled when he saw that the doors were closed. He looked at Teresa’s PA, surprised to see her leaning back in her chair, legs crossed, a smirk on her pretty face.
“To what do we owe the honor of your illustrious presence, Mr. Christopher?” Oh, yeah, there was a ton of snark under the sweet smile.
“Cut the crap, Corinne. You know damn well that I’ve left six messages and that I’ve been trying to talk to her since early Sunday morning,” Liam retorted. “She’s avoiding me.”
“So you thought the best way to deal with her was to show up at her place of work?” Corinne had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Do you know anything about women, Mr. Christopher?”
Obviously not. Up until Teresa appeared in his life, he thought he had. He could charm them into bed, show them a good time and when he was bored, extracted himself quietly, easing his way out of their lives with flowers or perfume or more expensive gifts, depending on the woman and the situation. Once, when that Russian ballet dancer refused to go quietly, he’d needed to say goodbye with a holiday in Cannes and a diamond tennis bracelet. But generally, women weren’t difficult.
And then there was Teresa...
“Can I go in?”
Corinne bared her teeth at him. “Let me see if she has time for you.”
Before Corinne could connect the call, Liam turned at the sound of a door opening. Teresa stood in the open doorway, looking beautiful but fragile. Her creamy complexion was two shades paler than usual, her sexy mouth was pulled tight and the bags under her eyes were a darker blue than her irises. But as he was coming to accept, Teresa could look like a ghoul and she’d still manage to turn him on.
“What are you doing here, Liam?”
Since there was only one answer to that question—he wanted to speak to her, dammit!—he shook his head and took two steps in her direction. When he stood close enough to her to inhale her sweet breath, close enough for his chest to flirt with hers, he placed both hands under her elbows and lifted her off her feet. Hell, his woman, this woman, needed to eat more! Walking her backward, he deposited her inside her office, back on her two-inch, ice-pick heels—black today to match her severe black suit and, probably, her mood—and kicked the door shut with his foot.
When he heard the snick of the lock, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. His hands, stupid things, desperately wanted to pull that black sweater from her skirt and lift it up and over her head. Would her bra be black, too? Her panties? He thought so but he sure as hell would like to make sure.
“I do not appreciate you barging into my office,” Teresa told him, trying to sound snotty.
“I do not appreciate you not taking my calls,” Liam whipped back, not fazed by her cool eyes and her tight mouth. He knew her well enough to see the pain lurking beneath all that liquid, velvet blue, knew that she was fighting the urge to weep or scream.
She had a right to.
Liam couldn’t resist running a thumb over her cheekbone, skirting the edges of her eye sockets. “Have you slept at all since the weekend?”
He knew that her pride had her wanting to lie but at the last minute she shook her head. “No, I’ve dozed here and there.”
“Things will seem better after you’ve slept.”
Teresa stepped away from him and walked away, dropping into the sleek office chair behind her desk. She placed her hands on the table and her amazing eyes flashed blue fire. “So if I sleep, will I wake up and find that my brother didn’t gate-crash Matt’s party, you didn’t hit him, he wasn’t seen on YouTube and I didn’t have to force him to stay in rehab, with him insisting that he’s not an addict? Will that just all go away with some sleep?”
She had him there. “No.”
“Exactly.” Teresa scratched her forehead and she released a long stream of air and her shoulders fell from somewhere near her ears. “I don’t want to fight with you, Liam.”
“I don’t want to fight, either.”
“But I can’t deal with you right now. Right now I have another commission, an event to organize, and everything is riding on it.” Teresa picked up a pen and rolled it between her palms. “I can’t be distracted and I need to focus. And I really do believe that it’s better that we not see each other anymore.”
“BS,” Liam shot back. “You’re just feeling overwhelmed. Possibly scared.”
Teresa nodded. “Sure I am. But maybe I am also trying to protect you. I’m not good for you, Liam.”
Liam slapped his hands on his hips, anger coursing through him. She sounded too much like his mother, who’d made her own disparaging comments about Teresa over the past few weeks. Not good enough, a tart, so little class. They were both wrong but there was only one person whose mind he wanted to change. “I’m a big boy. I don’t need you protecting me.”
“No matter what I say, there are people out there, including your mother, who believe I had an affair with your father, who think I’ve only latched on to you because I have my eyes on your company.”
He didn’t give a rat’s ass what other people thought and, honestly, he didn’t care much what his mother thought. “So? Let them think what they want.”
A pencil hit his chest and dropped to the floor. Liam looked at it, raised one eyebrow and returned his eyes to Teresa’s face. On the plus side, she had color in her cheeks. She also looked like she was about to blow.
“Liam, listen to me. You and me, it’s... Whatever the hell we had, it’s over! Whatever it was, it’s done.”
Liam sent her a steady look. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, Teresa, but it’s not as easy as that.”
“Just go, Liam. Please.”
God, this woman was as stubborn as a boulder.
