Page 10 of Boss Abroad

She did good. So good.

“Lovely to meet you, April. Thanks for agreeing to see me at such short notice.”

It takes me a beat to register that he said something, but I’m not a hundred percent sure what it was. I was too busy harassing the man with my eyes.

“What? Um-hum. Yeah. Sure.” I just smile and take my seat. The restaurant is beautiful, but everything looks dull next to this Adonis copycat sitting right across from me. It takes real effort not to ogle the man.

I run my hands through my hair, then struggle to find a place to put them. I put them on my lap, but it feels weird. I sit them at the table. No, also weird. I tuck a loose strand behind my ear, bite into a nail, then laugh at my fidgety self. “Sorry, first dates are always a bit awkward for me.”

“Don’t apologize. Would a drink be of any help?” His voice, deep and rich, sounds like it’s been dipped in syrup. It coats my senses and draws me in. It makes me sit taller and lean closer, not to miss a thing. I’m so mesmerized that there’s a delay to every answer I give him.

“Yes! Definitely. A tequi…” I take a good look around and decide on a cocktail instead. This place is way too fancy to drink shots. “I’ll have a margarita, please.”

He summons a waiter with a nod. When his eyes find me again, I’m relieved. I missed being under his inspection in the seconds his gaze left my body.

The waiter materializes by our table, and Liam places my order. He’s polite but sharp, his gaze never wavering from mine. It makes me fidgety again. Or maybe that’s just an excuse to press my thighs together and relish the throbbing where they meet.

I’ve never been this turned on by looks alone before, but I’ve never met someone as hot before either. Those whiskey-colored eyes mesmerize me to the point that I forget others exist. Whether the waiter has left or is sitting right beside me, I couldn’t tell. What I do notice is the silence stretching between us while we stare at each other, but neither of us seems bothered by it. I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s comfortable. I fail to do anything other than stare and smile.

His phone vibrates, but it’s facing down and he immediately presses the side button to silence it. I’m about to tell him I don’t mind him taking the call when he speaks again. “Am I wrong to assume that you’re American?” he asks in that accent I hadn’t found sexy until hearing it in his voice.

“Nope. You’re right. I arrived in London this morning. Feel free to give me any tips on how to survive the city for the next few months.”

“And may I ask what has brought you here?” His whiskey eyes match the amber liquid filling the tumbler in his hand. His presence so commanding, the glass seems to mold to his grip instead of the other way around. When I glance back at him, his eyes have left mine. They are scanning my body, appraising the prey that willingly stepped into his lair. Liam’s eyes on mine feel so heavy, my breath catches a little.

His gaze holds a warmth that spreads over my skin and strips every inch of fabric I’m wearing. I can feel my body heat rise and my skin betray me, turning red.

“Work. But that’s the last thing I want to talk about, to be honest. I’m nervous about a meeting tomorrow and could use a distraction.”

“So you’re using me as a distraction?” he asks with a straight face.

“No, th-that’s not what I meant.” Before I can put a sensible sentence together and not stutter when saying it out loud, he gives me the sexiest half smile I’ve ever seen and I might have ovulated at the sight.

I’m in so much trouble here, my body keeps reacting—well, overreacting would be more accurate—to this man. Was Callie right about London men being a whole new game? I couldn’t bear having men mess with my head like this on a regular basis.

“Okay, you had me feeling bad for a second there.” I laugh it off and keep the smile on.

“I don’t want to talk about work tonight either. Let me turn off my phone so it doesn’t have a chance to interrupt us.” He does just that and puts it in the inside pocket of his jacket. “But make no mistake, April. You’ve had my full attention since you walked through the door.”

Oh, he’s flirty, isn’t he? I think as my smile widens further.

By how sore my cheeks feel, I might’ve been smiling non-stop for a while.

I try to play it cool but get as far as lukewarm because I just. Can’t. Stop. Smiling.

What am I? Twelve?

“I would do the same, but I left my phone in the Uber, so there’ll be no interruptions from my side either.”

“Works for me,” he says selfishly, and I scoff at his indifference. “What are your thoughts on my city so far?”

His tone is so possessive, authoritarian. ‘My city’. He oozes so much confidence in the way he speaks, I just might believe he’s London’s freaking mayor.

People take me as confident, but it all started with the ‘fake it till you make it’ persona I’ve built to survive. Then I just ended up getting used to it. I’ve been looked down on a lot—kind of a given since I’m only 5 foot 1. Throughout my life, I've always been the youngest and smallest in the crowd, so I learned early on to put on a tough face to inspire some respect around me.

“Well, I’ve only seen Heathrow, the inside of the black cab that took me to my apartment, the aforementioned apartment, and now this restaurant. I arrived this morning and slept most of the day. It’s been eventful already, but everything looks so beautiful and fancy. I think I’m going to like my time here.” I surprise myself at the candor of this statement.

“I, for one, already like your time here.” He takes another sip of his whiskey and my eyes drop to his mouth. That damn lucky glass. I lick my bottom lip as if I could taste his drink. Or better yet, him.

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