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He grabs her hand across the table. “But can you see their mom? She’s breathtaking.”
No, he didn’t. That tiny shred of shrapnel just became a nine-millimeter bullet right in the center of my heart. She’s not really falling for this act, is she?
“You’re such a charmer.” She squeezes his hand and he lifts it to his lips, leaving an obscenely long kiss on the back of it. And another one on the wrist.
Who does this guy think he is?
I can practically hear her racing heart.
“Um,” Amelia clears her throat. “What’s one of your biggest pet peeves?”
Liam flashes her a grin so annoyingly suave I want to punch his lights out. “When a woman doesn’t know how beautiful she is.” He kisses her hand again.
“Oh, stop it,” Amelia giggles.
Yes. Please stop it.
Amelia resumes her flirting. It’s a bit over the top in my opinion, but Liam flirts right back. Commenting on her beauty so many times it’s nauseating. She’s a gorgeous woman, we get it. But she’s more than her killer legs and stunning smile, her curves and—
Amelia coughs, pounding on her chest where the camera is.
“Amelia, are you okay?” Liam asks.
I go still, watching the cameras and Liam’s furrowed brows for signs I missed something important. What can he see that I can’t? Is this too much for her? Is he scaring her?
“Yeah.” She waves her hand in front of the camera and takes a long sip of water. “Just went down the wrong pipe. You know, I’m curious, how a man like you can be both handsome and good.”
His fingers brush hers on the table and I grab my gun. “You know I’m not all good.”
Keep going, Liam, implicate yourself so I can take you into custody.
I pull up Cruz’s comm. “Get ready to move in.”
“Oh, I don’t believe that,” Amelia simpers, fanning herself with the wine menu. It creates enough wind to static the comms. “I mean you came all the way to America to help disabled children.”
“I’m only doing what anyone would do with my means.” Liam smolders like the real-life Flynn Rider smolder.
It’s atrocious. What does Amelia see in him?
“How are you so successful? And at such a young age. What are you, twenty-eight? I mean, what’s the secret?”
“I’m thirty-one.” His lips curl up. “And there is no secret. I take risks. No risks, no rewards.”
Amelia snorts. “Oh, plenty of my risks come without rewards. I don’t have a beach house.”
He leans forward like he’s going to tell her a massive secret. “Then you’re not risking the right things.”
“Okay, how do I become rich?” She chuckles.
He leans back in his seat and rubs his chin. “Well, it also helps to have a wealthy grandfather who favors you above all of the other dreadful grandchildren. Do you have one of those?”
“I don’t even have a grandfather,” Amelia says.
“That is truly unfortunate.” He whispers, reaching across the table to brush a finger along the inside of her wrist. “You should always be surrounded by love.”
I hate this man.
“Oh Chad, I fear you’re too good to be true.” Her voice catches and I have to hold myself back from running in there to save her from him. But it’s not him that’s upsetting her, it’s the grief. The same grief I feel in my own heart. "How can I possibly believe you're real?”