Page 62 of Love to Loathe Him

Rosie shrugs helplessly. “Sorry, Gemma.”

Fuck’s sake. “Can you do me a favor and ask reception to tell the first candidate that we are running slightly late?”

“Of course.” She smiles.

I spin on my heel and storm off toward the gym on the bottom floor. He better not pull out of these interviews after riding my ass so much about the recruitment campaign.

There’s the regular company gym for the likes of me, and then this fancy private gym just for the executive board bigwigs, like they’re too good to sweat with the rest of us.

I slip through the elevator doors before they’re fully open, stalking toward the executive gym with purpose.

I knock loudly on the door, the sound echoing through the hallway. No answer.

I knock again, harder this time, putting some real force behind it like I’m trying to break the frigging thing down.

The door flies open, and I’m confronted by a shirtless, sweat-glistened Liam.

His gym shorts hang low on his chiseled hips, his chest heaving with exertion. How is his chest so tanned when he’s covered up all day? There’s a trail of sweat dripping down his defined abs toward his . . .

Fuck.

He yanks off his boxing gloves, his breathing labored. “Yes?” he growls. Behind him, the punching bag is still swinging from his recent onslaught.

I swallow hard, my mouth dry, temporarily forgetting how to speak.

“We have interviews in fifteen minutes,” I say, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Did you forget?”

Liam curses under his breath.

“Youdidforget?” I ask. This is so unlike him, Mr. Always-In-Control-Never-Forgets-A-Thing.

“Didn’t sleep well,” he mutters. “Thought a workout would help clear my head.”

You and me both, I think with an inward grimace. I wonder if he was up doing what I was doing.

“The first candidate is already in reception,” I snap, refusing to let my gaze drift down his body again. “You’re supposed to be in a suit right now, not . . . this.” I wave my hand at his half-naked state, my cheeks flushing. “And it’s not just any candidate, it’s Kim Hye-jin!”

He knows this, and I’m positively seething. I’ve been building a rapport with Kim for weeks now, going back and forth. She’s a powerhouse in the private equity world, with an impressive track record in South Korea. We are so close to getting Kim to join our team, and I’ll be damned if I let Liam’s inability to put on a proper shirt ruin it all.

He reaches for a towel and starts wiping the sweat from his chest and abs with maddeningly slow strokes, his muscles flexing and rippling with each movement. The redheaded mermaid around his anchor tattoo shimmers in sweat, looking far too smug.

Is he doing this on purpose? Putting on a show to rile me up and mess with my head?

“I’m sure they can wait.”

“We have back-to-back interviews scheduled!” I explode. “This is important, Liam. I need you to cooperate today.”

“You seem rather wound up.”

I huff out a frustrated breath. “This recruitment took a lot of effort to arrange around your busy schedule.”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, still clutching his boxing gloves. “All right, all right. I’ll go get changed. But you might want to get rid of some of that . . .angerbefore we meet the candidates.” There’s a wicked glint in his eye.

I blink at him, my cheeks flushing. “I’m perfectly capable of keeping my emotions in check, thank you very much.”

His smirk widens as he steps closer, invading my personal space until a mere foot separates us. I feel the heat radiating off his bare skin, smell his man sweat. “But wouldn’t you prefer to release some of that tension? Show me what you really think of me?” He holds out the gloves, his eyes challenging. “Go on. Let’s see how those boxing classes are going.” Thetwoboxing classes, I want to add. “Do your worst.”

“What?” I stare at him, completely thrown. “Are you serious right now?”