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“I wouldn’t do that, Dad. You know that,” I tell him. I may talk a big game, but I’m a three-date minimum kind of girl. I don’t just jump into bed with anyone with a nice smile.
That thought makes me turn and peek at Liam King’s picture. He does have a pretty faceanda nice smile. I’m sure those perfectly white teeth are fake though. He’s a hockey player after all. However, that knowledge doesn’t stop the flutter that starts up in my stomach when I look at him. I’m usually immune to hockey players. I’ve been around them my whole life. But there’s something about Liam King that seems to seep into my skin and send a need I’m not going to acknowledge right to my core.
“Surely there’s someone more qualified for this job than me, Dad. Make someone else do it, please,” I practically beg him.
“There are few people I trust in this world, Aliyah, and you just so happen to be one of them. I need you to do this for the team. For me. All you have to do is make sure he stays away from parties, clubs—anything he deems fun, really,” Dad says with a twitch of his lip. Not a smirk but the closest thing I’m going to get.
I groan. I can’t say no to him. The last time I heard a man even try, well, I never saw that man again. So I’m not a hundred percent sure what happened to him but my imagination can come up with a few ideas.
“He’ll be here tomorrow morning. I want you in his apartment when he arrives. Introduce yourself. Make sure you read him the riot act, Aliyah. Show him who’s boss,” Dad says, handing me a slip of paper.
“Fine, but I want a pay raise.” I turn and walk back over to the desk.
“You’re not even on the payroll.” Grayson shakes his head.
“Well, guess I am now.” I smile at him. “Who knows, Gray? I might even be good at this job. Then I’ll be able to hang out with you and your little hockey friends more often.”
“For the love of God, Lia, don’t go near my friends.” Gray scowls at me.
“Enough. Aliyah, I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do before tomorrow.” Dad dismisses me.
“Yep, plenty. I’m going to need a new wardrobe, something a little morepuck bunny chicmaybe.” I pick up my bag and walk out of the room, leaving Grayson’s groans and grumbles behind me.
* * *
My hands are sweaty.Why the hell am I so nervous?
He’s just an athlete, like any of the others you’ve met before. Sure, he’s hotter than any human should be, but he’s just a man.
I look in the gold-framed mirror that hangs in my new friend’s foyer… No, not friend.
Assignment? Nope.
Target? Maybe.
Whatever he is, it’s his apartment I’m waiting inside. I fiddle with the white headband that was already sitting perfectly in place atop my head. My long dark hair hanging in loose waves, parted straight down the middle of my face. I’m wearing an iconic black and white Chanel dress, paired with a set of black Louboutin Mary Jane pumps. I pull the nude lipstick out of my bag and reapply the shade for the fifth time in the last half hour.
He’s late.Why is he late?
For all I know, the idiot got off the plane, found a party, and is already passed out drunk somewhere. That could be a good thing. If I fail before I even meet him, maybe my father will see that I’m really not suited for this job and assign someone else.
The door opens, and I turn on my heel and force a smile on my face. Liam King—who is so much larger in real life, mind you—stops just inside the foyer.
“Ah, shit, sorry, ma’am. I thought this was my apartment,” he says, looking at the key in his hand.
“It is, and it’s Aliyah, not ma’am.” I smile, holding out my hand to him while trying to remain professional. Professional is good. I can do professional politeness without trying to ride this man like he’s the bucking-bull ride down at the local bar. “I’m your welcoming party, your new best friend, really.”
“They gave me a fucking babysitter?” he grunts, briefly shaking my hand. Then he hefts the huge bag he’s carrying onto his shoulder and walks right past me. “You can go now. I don’t need a minder,” he says.
“Actually, you do,” I say, my heels clanking on the marble floor as I follow him through the apartment. He walks down a hall and opens a few doors before finally choosing one. I follow him and stop abruptly. This isn’t just a room. No, it’s his… bedroom.
Shit! Abort, Aliyah, abort!Do not look at that bed. Do not imagine him on top of you on that bed.
Liam turns. His gaze goes from me, to the bed, and then back to me. His lips tip up at one side of his mouth.
Shit, this is not good. I take a step backwards, realizing my mistake. Professional politeness doesn’t include entering a man’s bedroom.
ChapterTwo
