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I trail behind her, set both plates down, and then have a seat. Imogen doesn’t hesitate. She’s already taken her fist bite. I wait for her verdict, although there’s no question on what she’ll say. She glares at me.
“Yes, it’s good. I know you’re over there waiting to gloat.”
“Gloating is beneath me.”
Her lips quirk, but she doesn’t have any comeback. We finish our meal and after wiping my mouth, I place my napkin on my empty plate.
“I have some work to get done in my office. You’re free to roam around inside while I do it.” I rise and stare down at her. “Don’t make me regret extending the privilege.”
Leaving her sitting there, I head to my office, keeping the door open. I’m not sure how well Imogen plans on listening to me. I almost hope she doesn’t.
CHAPTER NINE
Imogen
“‘Don’t make me regret extending you the privilege’,” I mimic the mocking words in a snarky tone. One minute, Liam is bordering on being a decent person, and the next, he’s a giant asshole. Or a dangerous criminal. I’m still a little shaky from the incident in my room. Don’t think about it.
I’m tempted to find out if there’s any type of security system engaged, shut it down, and waltz out the front door, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. I also don’t want to test his temper.
I guess I should go exploring then. Partly to get a layout of the place, but mostly because my curiosity is piqued. I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that I’m considering Liam’s little proposal. Not that it’s much of one. But being stuck in this house—in that room—has made me feel extremely out of control. Something I’m not fond of. This has all been about him dictating things. Take me off the street. Seduce me until I give in. Because he’s bored, regardless of how he wants to see it. Maybe I shouldn’t make it such a challenge, then. I’m the one who says we’re doing this. Because the sooner he gets whatever boredom out of his system, then the sooner I can go home. If he doesn’t kill you first.
Am I terrified of him? Absolutely.
I’ve also learned over the last ten years not to let men intimidate me whether in real life or behind their keyboards. There’s only one other hacker who knows I’m a woman. Maybe I have some sort of signal that only another female hacker can recognize, because she’s one too. An American in California. We’ve passed each other jobs when we’re too busy working on something else. I don’t know her real name, and I haven’t tried to find out. I only hope that over the last few years, she’s extended me the same courtesy.
Since Liam left our plates on the table and he did the cooking, I guess it’s only fair that I clean up. I have no idea if he has a housekeeper or not. As hard as it had been to picture him knowing how to cook, it’s even harder for me to imagine he also cleans. Once the kitchen is tidied and the dishes washed, I stroll around the house.
In the entryway there’s a fireplace, as well as the staircase leading to the next level. The floor is polished to such a shine, my reflection is almost visible. The scent of fresh flowers on the mantle remind me of my walks through Stephens Green when I’m taking the long way around from my flat to the building where my work room is located. There’s a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling with lights that sparkle like diamonds.
Figuring I’ll start upstairs and work my way down, I climb the stairs, my fingertips gliding along the railing, which doesn’t have a speck of dust on it. I step into the first room down the right hallway and gasp. “Oh, wow.”
It’s a gorgeous sitting room with wall-to-wall windows that overlooks Dublin Bay. There’s an inset fireplace surrounded by white and gold marble and bookended by a pillar on each side. Two plush and cozy sofas face each other, and a matching accent chair forms the bottom of the u-shape they make.
I can picture myself up here in the evenings with a roaring fire while I peck away at my computer and drink my favorite tea. The image shifts, and Liam steps into the room and gently plucks the laptop from my hands. He sets both it and my teacup on the side table before returning to where I sit. I stare up at him, marveling at how the firelight flickers across his face, casting him in shadows that should make him appear frightful. Instead, it only makes him appear that much more dangerous. Alluring. Like he’s hiding secrets he wants me to discover.
With a hand curled around the back of my neck and his lips against mine, he guides me until I’m lying down, covering me with his body. A skillful hand palms my breast, kneading the sensitive flesh, before traveling down my stomach and lightly tickling me, eliciting a soft giggle. Liam smiles against my lips. A genuine one, too. Not any of the fake or condescending ones he’s given me in the past. His warmth heats me inside and out. I suck in a breath. His roaming hand slips beneath the waist of my pants and he palms my wet, throbbing center teasing my slit with his fingers.
Somewhere, a floor creaks, and the image disappears in a flash of smoke. Son of a bitch. It’s clearly been too long since I’ve been laid. Especially if I’m having waking wet dreams about Liam. Then again, that only cements my decision to let him seduce me. Be the one in control of the game he wants to play and then get the fuck out of here. I hope.
I finish my tour of the upstairs with two more bedrooms, each with an en-suite, and a small office that isn’t nearly as warm and inviting as the sitting room. Back down the stairs, on the opposite side of the entryway as the main areas of the house, is a long hallway. I follow it, admiring the view of the backyard. It’s stunning. What truly has me in awe are the hedgerows that encase the sprawling lawn bisected by a narrow canal of water. The soles of my feet tingle, just imagining how the lush grass would feel beneath them. On either side of where the hedgerow splits to form the opening are two towering stone plinths topped with massive gargoyle statues. It has such a gothic vibe. I love it.
At the end of the hallway, I open the door to a large conservatory. Lush plants and vines rise up providing a canopy over everything. Flowers in every color of the rainbow are either planted in the soil or in pots that line up along either side of the winding stone pathway. I wander through, my head turning this way and that, and soak it all in. I slowly turn while I walk, making sure I don’t miss a single thing. I travel the whole loop until I finally make my way back to the main door.
I come to an abrupt halt. Liam stands at the entrance. He’s removed his jacket and is only in his white dress shirt and slacks. His hands are in his pockets, and my gaze automatically moves to where the fabric is pulled taut across his impressive package. I lift my eyes to meet his, expecting a cocky grin, but instead there’s a burning intensity that raises the already humid temperature of the room a few more degrees.
Liam doesn’t move an inch, but somehow I find myself in front of him. It’s like an invisible tether between us pulled me to him. I’m standing so close I can smell his citrus cologne along with a clean, manly scent that’s all him. I wet my lips and his gaze is drawn to them. His pupils flare black, almost erasing the bright blue surrounding them. Fuck it. Might as well start. I slowly begin to unbutton his shirt. My eyes stay on his, waiting for him to put a stop to it, but he remains still. Rigid like a statue, but giving off a pleasant warmth.
With each button I undo, more of his body is exposed until I tug the tail out of his pants and push the fabric open. A small patch of hair covers the upper part of his chest, narrowing to a thin line of fur that bisects his stomach and disappears below his waistband. Growing more confident, I push the shirt over his shoulders and down his arms until it’s completely off. When I hesitate, unsure what to do with it, Liam takes it from me and tosses it away.
Unable to resist, I place my hands on his chest. His heartbeat is strong beneath my palm. The heat of his skin nearly burns me. I trace the lines of his muscles across his chest and up over his shoulder. Continuing to touch him, I slowly circle around, dragging my fingertips along the swells and valleys of his muscled back that shift with each brush of my finger over them until I reach his right side. The tattoo I’d been curious about begins at the top of his shoulder and travels the whole length of his arm. It wraps all the way around it as well, leaving only a few empty spaces where his own skin tone peeks through. The colors are as vibrant as the flowers that surround us. I take my time, paying close attention as I trace the lines that make up each design.
His head is turned toward me and I glance up. “What do these all mean?”
“Different things.” Liam’s voice is a low growl that rumbles through me. “Reminders, mostly.”
“The Chinese dragon?” It’s a stunning red and teal creation that decorates his entire bicep and runs down to his forearm, its body twisting and curling along the way.
“It signifies strength and luck.”
