Page 9 of Liam
Mia winces, but I’m too fired up to care. The words pour out of me, fueled by frustration and a need to prove him wrong.
“Some of us have actual jobs, Valeur. Not everyone gets to jet off to Monaco on a whim or throw parties for fun. But by all means, lecture me on social graces from your private jet.”
Mia clears her throat. “Aleria, maybe we should focus on the ASTRA presentation?—”
“You’re right,” Liam cuts in, his voice calm. “Somepeople work. Others...” His eyes drift to my emergency cot. “Live at work. There’s a difference.”
“Okay!” Mia steps between us, her smile strained. “Mr. Valeur, would you like to see our latest test results? They’re quite promising.”
The way he looks at me, all controlled power and challenge, makes my skin tingle. “At least I’m doing something meaningful with my life. Not just throwing parties to impress shallow socialites.”
“Aleria,” Mia warns, but her voice seems distant. The air between Liam and me feels charged, electric.
I pause, a cruel smirk tugging at my lips. “Tell me, Liam, do you still run the moment it gets real?”
The words hang in the air between us, sharp and venomous. I see them land and watch as Liam’s jaw tightens and his eyes flash with something that looks like pain. For a moment, I want to take it back. But then I remember all the nights I cried, all the years I spent trying to prove my worth, and the regret evaporates.
“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” He steps closer, and the lab feels too small, too warm. “Must be nice up there on your moral high ground. Tell me, when’s the last time you even went on a date?”
“It’s not that I can’t get dates,” I snap, my pulse racing at his proximity. “I choose not to.”
“Um, guys?” Mia’s voice barely registers. “The sprinklers? The funding? Anyone?”
Liam’s eyes narrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, right,” he scoffs, his voice low and challenging. “I bet you couldn’t get a date if your life depended on it.”
“Care to put your money where your mouth is, Valeur?”The challenge tumbles from my lips before I can stop it. My heart pounds as his eyes darken, and I catch a whiff of that maddening cologne.
“Are you suggesting a wager, Dr. James?” His voice drops lower, sending shivers down my spine.
“I’m suggesting you’re full of hot air.” I tilt my chin up, meeting his gaze. We’re standing too close now, the tension between us thick enough to cut.
“Oh God,” Mia mutters from somewhere behind us. “I’m watching a car crash in slow motion.”
“Name your terms,” he says, and somewhere in the back of my mind I know I should stop, should think about the funding, about my research, about anything except the way his eyes spark with challenge.
“Are you two flirting?” Mia asks. “Or trying to kill each other?”
“Not flirting!” We snap in unison, turning to glare at her.
“Well then.” Mia raises her hands, backing away. “Should I call the police?”
But we’ve already turned back to each other, the challenge crackling between us.
Mia’s sharp intake of breath cuts through the tension. I glance at her, seeing her eyes widen in a mix of shock and... Is that excitement?
“You know,” she says, a glint in her eye, “if you’re going for it, there’s a speed dating event tomorrow night at The Red Door.”
Liam and I both turn to stare at her. She shrugs, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “What?” she asks. “I go sometimes. You try navigating the dating scene these days without a little help.”
I open my mouth to respond, but Liam beats me to it. He nods, a calculating look in his eyes.
“Perfect,” he says, his voice smooth as silk but with an undercurrent of challenge. “Okay then, Dr. James. Let’s bet on who can get the most matches. Unless, of course, you’re too afraid?”
A thrill of excitement mixed with apprehension courses through me. Part of my brain is screaming at me to back down, to remember who I’m dealing with. But the larger part, the part that’s been itching for a challenge, for something to break the monotony of my closed, controlled life, surges forward.
“I was the one suggesting it remember?” I say, lifting my chin again. “But it’s hardly a fair competition. You’re a billionaire. Your wallet will do all the talking for you.”
“And you’re a woman,” Liam counters. “Trust me, you have the advantage. Men are easy.”
