A Very Exclusive Engagement. Andrea Laurence

weak in the knees and her resolve to leave would soften.

      “I’d like to think of it more as a brief interruption. To build some anticipation for later. Where are you headed?”

      “To where I was going before my whole day got sidetracked—back to my hotel. To shower and get some work done. Alone,” she added if that wasn’t clear enough.

      “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?”

      “Yes, I do.” She didn’t. But going out to dinner with Liam would put her right back in the same tempting situation, although hopefully without power outages. She’d given in to temptation once and she’d been rescued from her bad decision. She wasn’t about to do it again.

      Liam watched her for a minute. Francesca could feel his eyes scrutinizing her, but she kept her gaze focused on the passing cars. “You said things wouldn’t get weird. That we both knew what this was and what happened in the elevator stayed in the elevator.”

      Francesca finally turned to him. She tried not to look into the sapphire-blue eyes that were watching her or the damp curls of his hair that would remind her of what they’d nearly done. “That’s right. And that’s where it will stay. That’s why I don’t want to go to dinner with you. Or to drinks. Or back to your place to pick up where we left off. We’ve left the elevator behind us and the opportunity has come and gone. Appreciate the moment for what it was.”

      “What it was is unfinished,” he insisted. “I’d like to change that.”

      “Not every project gets completed.” Francesca watched a taxi pull up to the curb. It was empty, thank goodness.

      “Come on, Francesca. Let me take you to dinner tonight. Even if just to say thank-you for the granola bar. As friends. I owe you, remember?”

      Francesca didn’t believe a word of that friend nonsense. They’d have a nice dinner with expensive wine someplace fancy and she’d be naked again before she knew it. As much as she liked Liam, she needed to stay objective where he was concerned. He was the new owner of ANS and she couldn’t let her head get clouded with unproductive thoughts about him. They’d come to a truce, but they hadn’t fully resolved their issues regarding her budget and the way forward for the network. She wouldn’t put it past an attractive, charming guy like Liam to use whatever tools he had in his arsenal to get his way.

      She stepped to the curb as the doorman opened the back door of the taxi for her.

      “Wait,” Liam called out, coming to her side again. “If you’re going to leave me high and dry, you can at least tell me what you called me today in the board meeting.”

      Francesca smiled. If that didn’t send him packing, nothing else would. “Okay, fine,” she relented. She got into the cab and rolled down the window before Liam shut it. “I called you figlio di un allevatore di maiali. That means ‘the son of a pig farmer.’ It doesn’t quite pack the same punch in English.”

      Liam frowned and stepped back from the window. The distance bothered her even though it was her own words that had driven him away. “I’d say it packs enough of a punch.”

      She ignored the slightly offended tone of his voice. He wasn’t about to make her feel guilty. He’d deserved the title at the time. “Have a good evening, Mr. Crowe,” she said before the cab pulled away and she disappeared into traffic.

      Three

      Liam had just stepped from his shower when he heard his cell phone ringing. The tune, “God Save the Queen,” made him cringe. Had he told his great aunt Beatrice he was in Manhattan? She must’ve found out somehow.

      He wrapped his towel around his waist and dashed into his bedroom where the phone was lying on the comforter. The words “Queen Bee” flashed on the screen with the photo of a tiara. His aunt Beatrice would not be amused if she knew what the rest of the family called her.

      With a sigh, he picked up the phone and hit the answer key. “Hello?”

      “Liam,” his aunt replied with her haughty Upper East Side accent. “Are you all right? I was told you were trapped in an elevator all afternoon.”

      “I’m fine. Just hungry, but I’m about to—”

      “Excellent,” she interrupted. “Then you’ll join me for dinner. There’s an important matter I need to discuss with you.”

      Liam bit back a groan. He hated eating at Aunt Beatrice’s house. Mostly because of having to listen to her go on and on about the family and how irresponsible they all were. But even then, she liked them all more than Liam because they kissed her derrière. And that was smart. She was worth two billion dollars with no children of her own to inherit. Everyone was jockeying for their cut.

      Everyone but Liam. He was polite and distant. He didn’t need her money. Or at least he hadn’t until the ANS deal came up and he didn’t have enough liquid assets to buy a majority stake quickly. Other people also were interested in the company, including leeches like Ron Wheeler, who specialized in hacking businesses to bits for profit. To move fast, Liam had had to swallow his pride and ask his Aunt to invest in the remaining shares of ANS that he couldn’t afford. Together, they had controlling interest of the company, and by designating her voting powers to him, Aunt Beatrice had put Liam in charge.

      Liam had every intention of slowly buying her out over time, but he wouldn’t be able to do so for quite a while. So now, at long last, Aunt Beatrice had something to hold over his head. And when she snapped, for the first time in his life, he had to jump.

      “Dinner is at six,” she said, either oblivious or unconcerned about his unhappy silence on the end of the line.

      “Yes, Aunt Beatrice. I’ll see you at six.”

      After he hung up the phone, he eyed the clock and realized he didn’t have long to get over to her Upper East Side mansion in rush hour traffic. He’d do better to walk, so he needed to get out the door soon.

      It was just as well that Francesca had turned down his dinner date so he didn’t have to cancel. That would’ve pained him terribly, even after knowing what she’d called him.

      “Son of a pig farmer,” he muttered to himself as he got dressed.

      He opted for a gray suit with a pale purple dress shirt and no tie. He hated ties and only wore them when absolutely necessary. Today, he’d felt like he needed to look important and in control at the board meeting. He didn’t want the ANS directors to think they were in the hands of a laid-back dreamer. But as soon as he had a strong foothold in the company, the ties would be gone.

      Tonight, he left it off simply because he knew to do so would aggravate Aunt Beatrice. She liked formal dress for dinner but had given up long ago on the family going to that much trouble. She did, however, still expect a jacket and tie for the men and a dress and hosiery for the ladies. It was only proper. Leaving off the tie would be a small but noted rebellion on his part. He didn’t want her to think she had him completely under her thumb.

      It wasn’t until he rang the doorbell that he remembered her mentioning something about an important issue she wanted to discuss. He couldn’t imagine what it could be, but he sincerely hoped it didn’t involve him dating someone’s daughter. Aunt Beatrice was singleminded in her pursuit of marriage and family for Liam. He couldn’t fathom why she cared.

      “Good evening, Mr. Crowe,” her ancient butler Henry said as he opened the door.

      Henry had worked for his aunt Liam’s entire life and a good number of years before that. The man was in his seventies now but as spry and chipper as ever.

      “Good evening, Henry. How is she tonight?” he asked, leaning in to the elderly man and lowering his voice.

      “She’s had a bee in her bonnet about something all afternoon, sir. She made quite a few calls once the power was restored.”

      Liam frowned. “Any idea what it’s about?”

      “I