Page 12 of Liam (The Valeur Billionaires #4)

Chapter Seven

ALERIA

I unfold the slip of paper from the Team Unity Challenge bucket, its edges damp from the morning dew. Around me, employees from both Valeur Tech and LumiVera crowd the forest clearing, their name badges catching the sunlight filtering through the canopy.

It’s been three weeks since Valeur Tech invested in our research facility, and corporate's brilliant idea was to send us all on a wilderness retreat to “foster collaboration between partner companies.”

But the moment I see the name written in looping script, my stomach plummets like a rock thrown from a cliff.

No, no, no, I repeat, the words echoing in my mind like a desperate mantra.

Of course, it’s him. It’s always him.

My eyes dart across the forest clearing, scanning the faces of my coworkers until they lock with a pair of blue ones.

“Liam Valeur,” I read aloud, my voice trembling as I show my raffle note to the group.

Liam’s expression mirrors my dismay, his usual smirk replaced by a look of dawning horror. At that moment, we both know. This company's bonding activity has just morphed into a battle of wills more intense than any chemical reaction I’ve ever studied.

The retreat coordinator, Stephanie, claps her hands, her voice unnaturally cheerful. “Great! Now that everyone has their partners, let’s begin our first challenge.”

Liam approaches, his designer boots crunching on the fallen leaves. “Well, Dr. James,” he drawls, that infuriating smirk reasserting itself, “ready to follow my lead?”

I straighten my spine, channeling the rigidity of a carbon nanotube. “In your dreams, Valeur,” I retort, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. “Just try to keep up with my superior intellect.”

A movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. “Why did you bring your bodyguard to a corporate team-building retreat? You think it’s dangerous out here?”

“Marcus goes where I go,” Liam shrugs as if having a personal security detail is as normal as carrying a cell phone.

“But why do you need a bodyguard?” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I mean, I know you’re probably worth more than the GDP of a small country, but still, you never had one in college.”

Liam’s expression darkens for a moment, a shadow passing over his features. “I’m the CEO of Valeur Tech now. Wealthy people are targets, Dr. James. It’s just a fact of life.”

There’s something in his tone that suggests there’s more to the story, but before I can press further, Stephanie’s voice rings out.

“Remember, this is about teamwork and trust-building. Have fun,” she says.

“I’d rather build a particle accelerator with duct tape and paperclips than trust you, Valeur,” I mumble.

Liam chuckles, the sound sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. “Come now, Dr. James. Where’s your sense of scientific inquiry? Think of this as an experiment in human behavior.”

“The only behavior I’m interested in studying is how quickly I can make you disappear,” I grumble, but there’s less venom in my words than I’d like.

Our first challenge looms before us—quite literally. A clue dangles from a high ledge, mocking us with its inaccessibility.

Liam eyes the ledge, then me, his gaze calculating. “I suppose I should give you a boost?” he suggests, a hint of challenge in his voice.

“Try not to enjoy this too much,” I mutter, stepping closer. “And if your hands wander, I’ll introduce them to the business end of a Bunsen burner.”

His hands encircle my waist, their warmth seeping through my clothes. As he lifts me, the ease with which he does so is unsettling. The play of muscles beneath his shirt, the strength coiled in his arms, becomes impossible to ignore.

“This isn’t high enough. I need to get higher.”

Liam’s eyes meet mine, a mischievous glint in their blue depths. “Well, Dr. James, I suppose there’s only one solution.”

Before I can protest, he’s guiding me to place a foot on his bent knee. I wobble, my hand grasping his shoulder for balance .

“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and close.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. In one fluid motion, he lifts me onto his shoulders. I gasp, finding myself much higher than expected, my thighs pressed against either side of his neck.

“Steady now,” Liam murmurs, his hands gripping my calves to stabilize me. His palms burn through the denim of my jeans.

“I need... I need several more inches,” I say, my voice breathy. “Can you stand on your toes?”

As Liam rises onto the balls of his feet, I stretch upward. My fingers brush at the clue, but it’s just out of reach. Without thinking, I thread my free hand into Liam’s hair for balance.

The silky strands slip through my fingers, and Liam takes a sharp intake of breath.

“Almost there,” I whisper, more to myself than to him. I lean forward, grasping the clue.

As I settle back onto Liam’s shoulders, I become acutely aware of our position. The warmth of his body seeps into mine, his steady breathing a rhythmic movement beneath me.

“Got it,” I announce, my voice higher than usual. “You can, um, let me down now.”

Liam’s hands slide from my calves to my waist as he lowers me to the ground. For a moment, we’re face to face. Close enough for me to see flecks of darker blue in his eyes and count each of his eyelashes if I wanted to.

“Well done, Dr. James,” he says, his breath fanning across my cheek.

I step back, my heart pounding like I’ve just run a marathon. “Right. Well. Let’s see what this clue says, shall we? ”

I unfold the paper and try to convince myself that the flush spreading across my skin must be from exertion, nothing more. But the lingering warmth where Liam’s hands had been argues otherwise.

“‘To proceed, you must decode. Let science and logic be your mode,’” I read aloud. “Well, at least they’re playing to our strengths.”

The challenge presents itself as a scientific riddle. My eyes scan the question, a grin spreading across my face.

“‘I’m a number that never ends, yet I’m not infinite. My presence is crucial in curves. Take the number of letters in my name, followed by the digits after the decimal in my value. What am I, and what is my code?’” I continue reading. “Oh, come on. This is child’s play.”

Liam quirks an eyebrow. “Is that so, Dr. James? Please dazzle us with your brilliance.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s two hundred and fourteen, obviously. The answer is pi. The number of letters in pi is two. The first two digits after the decimal are one and four. Elementary, my dear Valeur.”

“Elementary?” Liam chuckles. “I didn’t realize we were auditioning for Sherlock Holmes. Though I must say, the hat might be an improvement on your usual lab goggles.”

“Ha ha,” I deadpan. “At least my brain isn’t cluttered with stock prices and corporate jargon. I bet you dream in spreadsheets.”

Liam’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “And I bet you whisper sweet nothings to your petri dishes. ‘Oh, E. coli, you reproduce so beautifully.’”

A snort of laughter escapes before I can stop it. “Please, as if I’d be caught dead sweet-talking E. coli. Now, tardigrades on the other hand...”

“Tardigrades?” Liam’s brow furrows. “Isn’t that some kind of sauce?”

I gasp in mock horror. “Sauce? Valeur, your ignorance is showing. Tardigrades are microscopic animals, also known as water bears. They can survive in space.”

“Ah, of course,” Liam nods. “How could I forget the space-faring sauce bears?”

We both burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the forest. As our chuckles subside, I realize that this is the first time we’ve laughed together with no underlying tension or competition.

“Well,” Liam says, wiping a tear from his eye, “I may not know my tardigrades from my tartare sauce, but at least I can recognize a worthy opponent when I see one.”

“Careful,” I warn, fighting a smile. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

He winks, sending an unexpected flutter through my stomach. “Don’t let it go to your head. We’ve still got a competition to win.”

It’s unsettling how well we work together when we’re not at each other’s throats.

But our moment of victory is short-lived as Stephanie approaches. “Excellent work! Now for your next challenge.”

She produces a pair of handcuffs, and my stomach does a somersault.

“You’ll need to navigate the rope maze while bound together,” she explains. “Remember, communication is key.”

As Stephanie locks our wrists together, I become aware of Liam’s presence and how warm his hand is against mine .

“Well, Dr. James,” Liam murmurs, his breath tickling my ear, “looks like we’re stuck with each other. Try not to swoon at my proximity.”

I roll my eyes. “Please, Valeur. I’m more likely to have an allergic reaction. Is that your cologne, or did you bathe in a vat of overpriced pretension this morning?”

He chuckles, the vibration traveling through our connected hands. “It’s called ‘Eau de Success.’ I’m surprised you can’t recognize it, given how often I wear it around the office.”

“Ah, so that’s the scent of inflated ego. Noted.”

“Ready?” Liam asks, his voice low and close.

I nod.

We step into the maze, our movements as graceful as a newborn giraffe on roller skates. I stumble, my back pressing against Liam's chest as we squeeze through a narrow gap. His breath is warm on my neck, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine.

“You know,” he murmurs, his lips far too close to my ear, “for someone who claims to despise me, you seem awfully eager to get close.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I retort, trying to regain some distance. “This is pure physics. Mass and momentum. Nothing personal.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” His low chuckle vibrates through me. “And here I thought I was having a positive influence on you.”

“If by positive influence you mean raising my blood pressure, then congratulations,” I say, wincing as the handcuffs pull us closer together. “I'm trying to tolerate you. Like bacteria developing resistance to an irritant. ”