I’m halfway to the bedroom when I stop and turn. I’m not letting him out of my sight today. Last night, I was overwhelmed, a small part of me hoping that maybe this was all a bad dream, but today I’m thinking clearly. If keeping himin my sight at all times is what I have to do, I’ll do it. After we meet with the Winthrops, I’ll find a way to contact Caleb. He’ll have a team at the airport by dinner. Maybe S-A-C Ford will be there to see me dragging Liam’s sorry butt into custody, and he’ll fall in love with me on the spot.
It will all be worth it when he takes me in his arms an—
“Are you all right, there?” Liam’s annoying voice breaks through my fantasies. “You look like you have some massive gas.”
I blink, coming back to my senses and swinging the garment bag at his face. “Just dreaming about how I’m going to lock you up.”
He frowns. “In that case, stop dreaming about me. That was terrifying.” He stalks into the kitchen.
“Turn,” I say.
“Excuse me?”
“Turn around. I’m not letting you out of my sight, and you’re not watching me get dressed.”
“Someone’s taking their job seriously,” he says, but for once, obeys and turns the other way. “Go ahead.” He waves me on. “You can watch me change next.”
My back stiffens. I thought he was ready to go. Who wears a full suit to make breakfast? Oh right. Liam does. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sleeps in a three-piece tux.
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I mutter.
I use the door of the coat closet to hang up the bag, then hide half my body behind it. I unzip the bag and run my fingers over the silky-smooth navy-blue blazer and matching pants. I slip off my pants first, changing quickly. The bottoms fit like a glove. Tight in all the right places… wait.
“How are these pants my exact size?”
Liam scratches the back of his neck. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
He checked me out while I was in a coffin. I’ve never felt so violated. “I’m going to feed you to a pack of rabid wolves.”
“Oh, that’s a fun threat, but I think we can do better. Keep them coming, love.”
I pull off my shirt, glaring at Liam’s back to ensure he’s following orders. I button the silk shirt and pull on the blazer.
This is the most expensive outfit I’ve ever worn; I can tell by the near buttery texture of the fabric. It isn’t government-issued apparel. I feel like I’m betraying my country, but this is… this is heaven.
“Finished?”
I tuck my shirt in, then step out from behind my mini barrier, grabbing the shoes, which are also… an annoyingly perfect fit. “Yes.”
Liam turns around, his eyes taking a meticulously long, lingering journey down my body, seeming to scorch me as he does. “Gorgeous.”
Something about that word causes the slightest flutter in my chest. It’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been complimented by a man. Unfamiliar territory.
“It’s even better on you than it was on the corpse,” Liam says.
The flutter turns to lead. “What?”
His eyes dance. “I’m kidding. I had it specially made for you. Though, if I’d known you were going to wear that hideous sports bra underneath, I would have ordered you a better one.”
“Excuse me! My bra is just fine. It’s practical and supportive and—” I blink. “You watched me change?” There’s a book on the side table closest to me, and I pick it up and chuck it at him.
“Not Winston Churchill’s Bible.” He dives to catch it.
I can’t believe he looked. Or maybe I can believe it, but he was turned away… A cold chill sweeps up my spine. “You saw me in the reflection of the microwave.” I throw a punch, but he dodges it.
“You told me to turn, and I did. You should have been more specific about where you wanted my eyes to be.”
“I’ll show you where your eyes should be.” I lunge at him again, but he dodges quickly, putting the couch between us.