Page 49 of Taken With Trouble


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“I like when you’re bossy,” he whispers lazily.

“I’m always bossy.”

“I know.” His eyes rove down my body. “That’s my favorite shirt by the way. It looks better on you.” Then he rolls to his stomach in the middle of the bed and falls asleep in seconds.

I snatch a pillow and take it to the couch. The computer is asleep, and I try to wake it, but it requires a password. Why did I think it wouldn’t? This man has a fingerprint scanner on the espresso machine and the TV remote. Which is just plain rude.

I lean back in the chair frustrated, when a crumpled piece of paper in the trash catches my attention. I pull it out, pressing the edges down. My heart stops as the image takes shape. It’sme.It’s almost perfect, except my lips are too thin and my cheekbones are not high enough. My hands tremble, and I crumple the paper up, shoving it in the trash. That’s not me. It’s not. Why would he draw me?

But I don’t even believe myself. I leap out of the chair, putting as much distance as I can between me and the forgery.

On the table there are about fifty sheets of paper that weren’t there when I went to sleep. I step closer and realize it’s the layout of the gala. It’s coveredin red lines and plans. Every potential exit, every blind spot. Despite my better judgment, I study it into the wee hours of the morning.

I told him I’d help, and I won’t be the weak link. After tonight, I’ll have to figure out what to do. But I’ve just been recruited for a mission, and I’ll complete it successfully.

I wake up to Liam’s face directly over mine.

“What do you want?” I grumble.

“Not a morning person,” he says, as if he’d been discussing it with someone and now it’s determined.

“I’m not a ‘wake up with another person’s face in my face’ kind of person.” I shove him away. “What time is it?”

“Nine. I would have let you sleep longer, but you were snoring.”

“I don’t snore.”

He raises a brow. “Yes, you do.”

“No. I trained myself not to snore just like I trained myself to never get sick. If I snored, it was because your uncomfortable couch made me sleep in a weird position.”

He raises a brow. “You trained yourself to not get sick? I’m pretty sure that’s impossible. Unless all the cells in your body are as stubborn as you are.”

I frown. “I need coffee if I’m going to be forced to work with you all day.”

“Funny, I had the same thought.” He holds up the tiniest cup I’ve ever seen. It’s barely bigger than a thimble.

“That’s not going to cut it.”

“Just try it.”

I tip the liquid into my mouth, and… my eyes roll back in my head. It’s the perfect temperature, and oh, so heavenly.

“I need fifteen more.”

“Done.”

I pop my eyes open to find Liam holding an actual mug. I eagerly take it, cradling it to my chest like it’s my first-born child.

“Ready to get to work?” Liam asks.

“Lay it on me.” I lean into the sofa, pulling my knees to my chest.

His eyes spark for just a moment before he shakes his head. “All right, here’s the plan. We’re going to bring the box to the gala, find the Winthrops, and retrieve my grandfather.”

I raise a brow. “Is that as far as you got?”

His eyes spark. “No, I was just trying to work up to the good part. How are your dancing skills?”