*
“Yes, I’m engaged.” Liam sat back in his office chair and looked at the newly framed photograph of Francesca and himself that sat on the corner of his desk. They’d had it taken for the newspaper announcement, and Liam couldn’t help sending a copy to the Queen Bee herself. When the phone rang the next afternoon, he wasn’t surprised.
“Congratulations to you both. I didn’t expect you to move so quickly on my offer,” she noted, her tone pointed. She obviously thought that Liam was trying to pull one over on her somehow. She missed nothing. “I did give you a year, not a week, to get engaged.”
“Well,” Liam began, “I told you I had been seeing someone. You helped me realize that I needed to move forward in my relationship. Francesca and I are perfect for each other—I was just hesitant to take that last step. Thank you for the encouragement.” He hoped he’d managed to work out the bitterness from his voice after practicing this speech several times before her call.
“That is wonderful, Liam. The picture of the two of you is lovely. I’ve sent Henry to have it framed for the mantle. She’s quite the striking young lady. Where did you meet her?”
She was fishing for details. Thank goodness they’d worked all this out at dinner. “We met the first time in college through mutual friends and dated for a while.” He recalled their fabricated past, linking it together with what he’d told Scarlet at lunch. “When I started looking into buying ANS, we ran into each other at a media event. She works there doing community outreach programs and we started seeing each other again.”
Liam had no doubt that his aunt was taking notes and would have someone look into the fact that they had both attended Georgetown at the same time. “What a lovely coincidence that you two would find each other again. It must be meant to be.”
“I think so.”
“I hope both of you will be very happy together. I can’t wait to meet her. In fact, I’m coming to D.C. later this month to speak to Congress. I’d love for the three of us to have dinner and celebrate while I’m there.”
Liam frowned at the phone, glad for the miles between them and the lagging technology of camera phones that prevented her from seeing his pinched expression. He’d never known his aunt to have any political involvement before beyond writing checks. If she was coming to D.C., it was to check on him. She didn’t trust Liam a bit and rightfully so. They would have to perfect their lovey-dovey act before she arrived. Frankly, Francesca had been miserable at it when they ran into Scarlet.
It wasn’t just the details of their relationship that had tripped her up. Her smile of engaged bliss had looked a little pained. She’d lacked the excited glow. She had had to be asked to show the engagement ring, whereas any other woman would thrust it out at anyone that would look.
Despite her hesitation to embark on a physical relationship the other night after dinner, something had to be done. She needed some real romantic inspiration to draw on because she couldn’t fake it. Liam was all too happy to provide it.
He may have told Francesca that he didn’t choose her with the intention of seducing her, and that was true. If they did become lovers, it would simply be a pleasant bonus to a potentially unpleasant scenario.
Heaven knew, he wanted Francesca. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her in the elevator. Red panties. Flushed cheeks. Soft, passionate cries of pleasure echoing in the small space. Yes, he didn’t need a romantic entanglement complicating this arrangement, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to pick up where they’d left off.
Sex wouldn’t be a problem as long as they both knew that’s all it was. Given the way Francesca had writhed beneath him and walked away like nothing happened, she knew how to play that game. He just had to coax her into taking another spin at the wheel.
Gripping the phone, Liam struggled to remember what his aunt had just said. The mere thought of Francesca’s red panties had completely derailed his train of thought. Dinner. Aunt Beatrice was coming to town and wanted to have dinner. “Absolutely,” he said. “Francesca is very excited to meet you.”
“I’m sure she is. I hope you two have a lovely engagement party tonight. I’m going to let you go. I need to call Ron Wheeler and let him know I’m turning down his proposal. For now,” she added, making it clear they weren’t out of the woods quite yet.
“It was good to speak with you,” he said between gritted teeth. “I’ll see you soon.”
Hanging up the phone, he spun in his chair to look back at the photo of Francesca and him. His aunt made him absolutely crazy, but if this scheme landed that voluptuous, feminine form back in his arms, he just might have to send the Queen Bee a thank-you card.