Page 95 of Love to Loathe Him

Of course he doesn’t. God forbid Liam McLaren admit to any vulnerability.

“I bet you gave as good as you got.”

“Not back in those days,” he clips out. “I was a bit scrawnier than I am now. School wasn’t an enjoyable experience for me.”

Wow. I’m shocked he’s opening up to me, sharing a piece of his past like this.

“Couldn’t you leave? Go to a regular school instead of some fancy boarding school?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He sighs, attacking his steak with a bit more force than necessary. “We have the shrinks at work, Gemma. That’s not what I hire you for.”

His tone is light, almost playful, but the message is clear. This topic is off-limits. I can see the walls slamming up, his crafted mask of indifference sliding back into place.

The moment of vulnerability is gone.

One hour later, the drinks are flowing freely. Waiters buzz around us, topping up my glass as soon as I’ve taken a sip.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?” he says once we’re alone again, swirling the contents of his wineglass.

Theelephant? Is he talking about his cock? Because if so, I’m going to need a lot more wine for this conversation.

“There’s no elephant. There’s nothing to discuss, Liam. We’re both adults who made a reckless decision, and now we’re going to move on from it like mature professionals. Blame it on the sea air.”

End of story. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.

He regards me for a beat. “But here’s my issue. While I have immense professional respect for you, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t physically attracted to you.”

I feel my face burst into flames at his blunt admission, and I take another deserved sip of wine.

“If circumstances were different,” Liam continues calmly, “I think we’d both have to admit our indiscretion on the boat was far too enjoyable to write off as a regrettable one-time thing, wouldn’t you agree?”

My mind floods with memories of that night—his body moving over mine, the feeling of him coming inside me so deeply . . .

“I . . . yes, it was quite enjoyable,” I mumble. Understatement of the century.

“Precisely.” His gaze drops briefly to my lips before dragging back up to meet my eyes, making my stomach do a cartwheel. “Which is why I propose that we continue exploring this newfound aspect of our relationship on a more regular basis.”

I blink, hardly daring to believe what he’s suggesting. “You mean like . . . ?”

“Like entering into a casual arrangement,” Liam clarifies, his tone as businesslike as if he were discussing quarterly reports. “Separate from our working relationship, of course.”

My jaw drops as the weight of his proposal hits me like a ton of kinky bricks. Oh my god. Is this really happening?

“Why would I agree to something like that?” I finally manage.

“I thought the appeal would be obvious after this past weekend,” he responds dryly, one eyebrow raised.

I bristle at his arrogant assumption, even as a traitorous part of me throbs at the memory of just how appealing he was that night. “You think I should feel lucky that you’re doing me the favor of fucking me?”

“Not at all.” He frowns. “I wouldn’t be putting my professionalism on the line if I didn’t want this. I’m merely suggesting that two mature adults enter into a consensual, mutually beneficial arrangement.”

Part of me wants to bolt out of this fancy restaurant, hail a cab, and never look back. But another part, the more reckless part—Ginger, wants to climb into his lap and ride him, right here in front of all these posh old couples.

If Liam was just some random guy off the street, I’d be signing up for this in a heartbeat.

“Let’s cut the bullshit. The sex was incredible.” The undercurrent of hunger in his voice makes my toes curl. “We both know it. And I want more. Immensely, Gemma.”

I bite my lip, struggling to think straight. “I can’t. It’s too messy.”