Sinful Rapture (The Rapture #2)(13)

And of course, Liam had needed a shirt since his no longer had buttons.

Unfortunately, the Playhouse merchandise wasn’t much of an improvement.

“You can drop me off in front of the building,” she murmured, opening her purse to pull out her key.

With his typical arrogance, Liam ignored her words, parking his car in the small lot at the side of the building.

“A gentleman doesn’t drop a lady at the curb,” he informed her, turning off the engine. “He walks her to her door.”

“Didn’t you say last night that you weren’t a gentleman?”

He flashed a wicked smile. “I have my moments.”

He certainly did.

A hot flash seared though Holly as she recalled some of his finer moments. His head between her legs. Him thrusting deep inside her as he whispered how good she felt…

Her face flamed.

Thank god he was busy sliding out of the car and rounding the hood to pull open her door.

By the time she was walking beside him, she’d managed to smooth her expression.

Using her key she opened the security door, and then they climbed the stairs to the second floor. She was acutely aware of the man who moved just a step behind her. His presence seemed to overpower the hallway despite its generous width and the arched ceilings that gave the building a Spanish flair.

She wrinkled her nose.

That was actually the first thing she’d noticed about Liam Conner. His sheer presence.

It was as if he carried a force-field around him that threatened to suck her in whenever he was near.

The next thing she’d noticed was his devastating beauty.

Even this morning, with his russet hair tousled and his firm jaw shadowed with a hint of a beard, he looked…edible.

Disturbed by the knowledge, she halted in front of her apartment and sent him a wary gaze.

She abruptly realized that she didn’t want this man in her apartment.

Not because she resented the fact he’d bought the company she considered her own. Or because he was arrogant and annoying and far too fond of tossing out orders.

No. It was because this was supposed to be her sanctuary.

The one place she could go to put Liam Conner out of her mind.

To have the image of him wandering through her rooms and lounging on her furniture that was chosen for comfort rather than fashion would steal what little corner of peace she had left.

“You’ve done your duty,” she informed him. “Now go away.”

He clicked his tongue, reaching to take the key from her hand and efficiently unlock the door.

“Ungrateful brat,” he chided, urging her over the threshold. “You can at least offer me coffee.”

She glared over her shoulder as he pressed a hand to her lower back, giving him enough room to step inside.

“Do you ever take no for an answer?”

His lips twitched, the gold flecks in the emerald eyes more pronounced in the sunlight that filtered through the high, arched windows.

“That’s a foolish question,” he said.

She sighed. It was. This man had created a personal empire out of nothing.

No didn’t figure into his vocabulary.

“Someday,” she breathed, at last turning her attention toward her living room that was decorated in soothing shades of turquoise and tangerine. Her gaze, however, was swiftly captured by the stack of boxes that were piled in the center of the tiled floor. Wrapped in white and silver with large bows, they consumed an amazing amount of space. “Shit.”

Yesterday she’d informed the reception staff to deliver the unopened presents to Ted. He was the one who’d jilted her. Why should she deal with the unpleasant duty of returning the gifts?

Now she could only assume that her ex-fiancé had used his spare key last night to dump them here.

It was a childish act of vengeance.

But why?

It was his choice to abandon her at the altar. Why act as if he was the victim?

The raw, savagely painful humiliation she’d experienced while she’d stood in the small vestibule with her father impatiently pacing the floor and her bridesmaids watching her with growing pity, seared through her.

Oh…god.

She pressed a hand to her stomach, suddenly feeling like she was going to be sick.

Stepping forward, Liam stared at the stack of boxes with a grim fury, his hands clenched.

“What the hell is this?”

“Wedding presents.” She pointed out the obvious, inanely sensing he was even more disturbed than she was by the unexpected sight.

“I know what they are, princess,” he snarled. “What I don’t understand is why they’re here.”

She hunched a shoulder, unconsciously backing away from the unwelcomed reminders of her aborted wedding.

Another failure…a treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind.

“Someone will have to deal with them,” she forced herself to mutter.

Perhaps sensing her distress, Liam turned his head to study her pale face with a perceptive gaze.

“Not you,” he gruffly said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and steering her out of the still open door. “And not today.”

“What are you doing?” she demanded, instinctively falling into step beside him as they retraced their route through the hallway and down the stairs.