Playboy Prince

We were in Toronto, sipping berry martinis.

Five, six months ago.

It was freezing outside. Scorching hot in the hotel.

And I got so drunk, Liam had to put me to bed. It's fuzzy. I barely remember. But I remember his lips.

Why do I remember his lips?

"You remember those?" Liam motions play along.

Right. I was drunk. But I remember. I remember him laying me in bed, whispering good night, coming so, so close to kissing me. "It was bright red. Perfect for Liam."

"More of a raspberry," he says.

"Strawberry. A strawberry martini," I say.

"We had a few too many," he says.

"He walked me back to my room. He was going on about how we had to get up early, to get poutine, so I said, 'I don't want to hear another word. If you want to make your mouth useful…'"

"And I did." Liam reaches for me under the table. "The rest is history." He taps my hand. My ring finger.

Right. I raise my left hand. Show off the dazzling rock. It's the same one I wear to ward off douchebags, but it's huge enough to pass as a Liam selection. And it's nice too. A simple solitaire in a Tiffany setting, white gold, sparkling enough, it outshines the real thing.

Danielle studies the ring for a moment, then she smiles. "Did it just happen?"

"Pretty recently," Liam says.

"How did it go?" she asks. "Where were you? Did you get on one knee and everything?"

"Oh yeah." Liam is faster with the story this time. Practiced. "I dropped to one knee, and I begged. It was pathetic, honestly."

I nod. "I took pity on him."

"No. That wasn't it. It was when I took off my shirt." He shrugs, once again cool and aloof. "I figured it worked once…"

"The abs really distract from the personality."

"And the tattoos," he says.

The tattoos. The ones he hides under his suit. No, hide isn't the right word. This is Liam.

He only hides his intentions.

Everything else is on display.

The waitress interrupts with our drinks. None of us have looked at the menu, but we've been here enough times we know what we like.

We order.

The waitress disappears.

Danielle's attention returns to me. "When was Toronto?"

"Which time?" Adam raises a brow.

"Last time," Liam says.

"You've been fucking for the last six months?" Adam asks.

"I told you, Adam. I don't call you every time I fuck someone," Liam says. "But I can. Expect a very detailed call tonight. I've got plans for after this."

Adam half-smiles.

"What's that?" Liam draws a circle around his brother's face. "Is Adam Pierce, the most miserable man in the mansion. Props to Danielle for giving me that one." He nods to her. "Is the most miserable man in the mansion actually happy about something?"

"I never thought I'd see the day." Adam's eyes flit to me. "She's too smart for you."

"Don't tell her." Liam shakes his head jeez. "This is why no one ever wanted you as a wingman."

"Liam is smarter than he looks," Danielle says. "And he has other appealing traits."

"Hey, you dissing my girl?" Liam asks.

"I'm complimenting you." She laughs. "And her too. Her taste." Danielle raises her glass. "To love."

I turn to Liam as if I'm madly in love with him. "To you knowing where to put your mouth."

He smiles that charming smile of his, raises his glass, taps it against mine. "Anytime."

"Really? Anytime?"

"Yeah."

"In the middle of a board meeting?" I ask.

"Hell yeah. If you don't mind the audience," he says.

"What if I want privacy?" I ask.

"I'll clear the table. But you've seen the conference room." He looks to Danielle. "Glass walls. Good for people who like being watched." He winks at her.

She blushes. I think. It's hard to tell with her skin tone.

"Congratulations." Adam raises his glass.

We all toast.

I take a long sip. Mmm. Grapefruit, gin, Saint Germaine. The perfect mix of herbaceous, tart, sweet.

Liam takes a long sip. "How can a drink this pink be this tart?"

"Have you never tasted a grapefruit?" I ask.

"What was that about tasting?" he asks. "That's why you like me, isn't it?"

"Who says I like you?"

"My skill at cunnilingus."

My cheeks flush.

Adam chuckles. "Why do you spell it out? We all knew what you meant."

"You know how it is. Bird's gotta fly. Fish gotta swim." Liam motions take it.

"Liam Pierce has to brag about his sexual skills," I say.

"Hell yeah." He raises his glass. "To you loving men with fat bank accounts and big dicks."

My cheeks flush.

Danielle nearly spits out her drink.

"What happened to cunnilingus?" Adam teases.

"Hey, I'm not one of those guys who thinks a big dick is enough," Liam says. "I use all the tools at my disposal."

Danielle laughs. "What do you think, Briar? Does he?"

"I can't complain," I say.

"You sure? Because I could have a lot of fun answering those complaints," Liam says.

Her laugh gets louder. Deeper. She nearly drops her drink on the table. Brings her hand to her chest. "Liam…" She barely gets out the words. "You're so full of shit."