Opening her mouth, nothing came out. Damn, why was this so hard?
“Good evening, Miss Torres. My name is William Mackenzie Manning, but I prefer to be called Liam by my friends. I am the Chairman and CEO of IWC Security. I have a net worth of approximately two point eight billion dollars. I own three houses, one in San Francisco, which you have visited, one in the Russian River Valley attached to a small vineyard, and another in Antigua. I mainly drive a black Aston Martin Vanquish, but I also have a couple of other cars.” He took a step closer. “And recently I’ve met a woman who interests me more than anyone. So I would appreciate the chance to get to know her better.”
Another step brought him toe to toe with her. Intensity exuded from his body; the scent of his aftershave drifted over her. Only by locking her knees did she stop herself from leaning into him.
“Is there anything else you’d like to know about me?” he whispered.
She had to clear her throat twice before she could speak. “Have you eaten any peanuts lately?”
“Not in weeks.” His face was deadpan.
“Then I have one last question.”
Liam raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“How long before you kiss me?”
He reached out and pulled the clip out of her hair, letting it tumble down before his hand slipped to her cheek, cradling it gently. As though in slow motion, his head descended, his lips parting as they approached hers. She sucked in a huge breath. “I think that can be arranged very soon,” he whispered against her lips.
The kiss was slow and languid; every time she tried to increase the pace, he’d pull back slightly. His hands moved to her shoulders and stayed there, rather than threading through her hair or wandering down her back. Lorelei put her hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat increase beneath her palm. He kissed her as though he had all the time in the world.
She thrust aside her inclination to rush the moment. If Liam just wanted her body, surely he would be pushing home his advantage. Instead, he was taking the time to make her feel special, make her feel…treasured. And she loved him a little bit more for it.
At last he pulled back a fraction. His lips returned to hers several times for small sips.
“I know it’s getting hot in here, but I think something might be burning.”
She sniffed. Sure enough there was a trace of smoke in the air.
“The enchiladas!” she wailed. She raced into the kitchen and pulled the smoking dish from the oven. While she stared at the blackened mess, wondering what to do next, the quiet was pierced by the shrieking of the smoke detector. “Quick, open the window,” she said to Liam, who was leaning against the doorframe.
He hurried to do her bidding while she grabbed the tea towel from the counter and waved it frantically, trying to dissipate the smoke. When silence was finally restored to the apartment, she flung the towel on the floor and slumped into a chair at the small table that passed for her dining room.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I thought we’d go out for dinner. I want to take you someplace worthy of your beauty.” Liam rubbed his hand along her shoulders before running it down the length of her hair.
“I wanted to eat here, to cook for you. I don’t want to go out and have everyone compare me to your other girlfriends.” She kept staring at the table, not wanting to see his eyes.
“No one will compare you, no one who matters. And even if they did you’d come up tops. I don’t think you realize how beautiful you are, inside and out.” He sat in the opposite chair and put his hand over hers on the table. “Look at me, Lorelei.”
She raised tear-filled eyes to him. Her plans for tonight had gone up in smoke, literally. She’d wanted to stay here, where she was comfortable, to spend some time with Liam, without wondering who was waiting in the wings ready to take her place. There must be a line of women a mile long wanting to go out with him.
“I don’t want to go out. I’m not dressed.”
“Are you kidding me? This is how you dress for eating at home?”
“Of course.” She pushed a smile past the tears.
“Well, I’m rather fond of charcoal. I’m happy to eat what you’ve cooked.” Liam stood and walked purposefully toward the kitchen.
“No, Liam. It’s inedible.” Lorelei followed him. He couldn’t honestly mean to eat the ruined dinner.
Ignoring her, he grabbed a plate off the counter. After a brief search he found a spatula, and shattering the top layer of burned cheese he pried a portion from the dish. “Can I serve you some?” His face was polite, his eyebrows raised, as though he were inquiring about her mother’s health.
“Please, don’t eat that.”
Too late; he’d found a fork and already popped a morsel in his mouth. Horrified, she couldn’t avert her eyes.
He chewed for some time before pronouncing, “Tastes just like my mother’s cooking.” The dimple appeared and her heart melted.
He put the plate down on the counter and strode over to where she stood paralyzed by the doorway. “Really, you didn’t have to eat it.”
“You spent hours working on that dish. I wasn’t going to ignore your efforts because I distracted you at the crucial moment. What do you say we get a pizza delivered and relax on the sofa until it arrives?”
“You read my mind.” She raised her face to his, surprised at the understanding and compassion in his eyes.
“Yes, I did read your mind. But don’t you think we should wait until after the pizza arrives to do that?”
Chapter Eleven
“And he went home after you ate the pizza? You were at your place, feet from your bed, and he went home?” Mandy stared at her as though she’d said she’d been abducted by aliens and taken to another planet.
“I know. I couldn’t believe it either. Then he reminded me I told him I didn’t sleep with men I’d just met, and as this was our first date now that I knew his secret, he wasn’t going to push me for a physical relationship.” Lorelei couldn’t quite believe Liam had left after dinner. She’d lain awake for hours wondering what was wrong with her, why he’d gone home rather than stay with her. And that old devil self-doubt had wondered if he’d gone off to see some other woman.
“Girl, the man is gorgeous and rich and he ate your burned dinner. You’ve got to jump his bones before the Vatican considers him for sainthood.” Mandy put down her sandwich and took a long drink of her soda. “And take my advice. Don’t wait years once you’ve got his ring on your finger. Forget the white wedding, go to Vegas. Get him attached to you in a way only a judge can pull you apart.”