Chapter 38
Charity
Dress – Taylor Swift
The day of the dinner had finally arrived, and I was proud of what we’d achieved, considering only a few short weeks ago Liam and I were arguing over color schemes.
He didn’t know, but I’d called in a few favors, and our color scheme was now purple, the color associated with women’s charities.
It symbolized strength, dignity and loyalty and it seemed more appropriate than saving a few hundred dollars.
Besides, a chunk of Dexter Whitfield’s donation was paying for it, seeing as I’d persuaded him to up his sponsorship.
Funny how easy it had been once I’d dropped into the conversation what Nate Jenkins was donating.
“God, Charity, it looks incredible.” Carla put a hand to her chest as she gazed around the room. The purple décor glowed under the soft uplighting, the satin table runners caught the light like ripples of twilight. “This has to be one of the best you’ve ever done.”
“We’ve ever done. You did as much as I did.”
She waved me away. “Your vision, honey. You think Liam will be surprised at the color change?” She grinned. I’d sworn her to secrecy whenever she saw Liam—which was challenging, seeing as he’d met me at the office a couple of afternoons a week so we could get an early dinner together.
We’d both been busy. Him with the hotel site, me with a couple of weddings, including his sister’s, so we’d been sure to carve out time together when we could.
“I think so. Although, he was really grumpy when I told him he couldn’t help us set up.” I had a whole team who worked for me on the day of an event, and I wanted him to see the room in all its glory.
Carla looked at her phone. “I think maybe we should leave to get ready. We only have just over an hour before the guests start to arrive.”
“Oh my gosh, is that the time already?” I looked over to the bar where two bartenders were setting up and two polishing crystal glassware that sparkled under the chandeliers, each stem throwing off a cold white glint. “Liam is coming for me in forty minutes.”
“Go,” Carla insisted. “Everything here is ready. There’s nothing more you can do.”
The faint shuffle of chairs and muted thrum of footsteps blended with the soft scent of fresh-cut flowers, the room buzzing with a quiet, anticipatory energy. She was right. We were ready.
When a limousine drew up in my driveway, I almost choked on air.
Its engine purred with a low, velvety vibration that seemed to hum through the cool evening air.
It was undeniably elegant and very sexy.
Not as sexy as the man who stepped out of the back, though.
As far as I was concerned, Liam Brown was the hottest man on the planet, but Liam Brown in a slim-fitted tux with a crisp white shirt and black necktie was the hottest man in the universe.
Every universe. Seriously, I think I actually came then and there.
“Wow.” The word escaped in a breathless whisper. “You scrub up well, Mr. Brown.” I licked my lips, which had gone suddenly dry from the sight of him.
“You look...” Liam blinked slowly and scrubbed a hand over his freshly shaven face, the subtle citrus scent of his aftershave drifting toward me in the cool evening air.
“Fuck, Sunshine. You look...” He shook his head, seeming genuinely stunned.
“Stunning. Beautiful. I don't know if there's actually a word big enough for how you look.”
I smoothed down the red satin dress I was wearing, the fabric cool and luxurious beneath my palms. I was relieved that it had made the impact I'd hoped for.
The front was low-cut and skimmed my curves at the sides, the material clinging to my body like liquid fire.
It hugged my hips with a subtle stretch that allowed movement while the split in the front ran from my toes to just above my knees, revealing glimpses of leg with each step.
My hair fell in loose waves over one shoulder, the silver clip holding up one side catching the light.
I was wearing strappy silver heels that made my legs look endless and carried a matching clutch.
The best part, though, around my neck I'd tied my red ribbon with a small silver heart hanging from it, the silk warm against my throat, a private reminder of our intimate moments together.
Liam’s hand reached up, his finger lingering over my throat and down to the silver heart. A smile touched his lips, secretive and sweet with a hint of heat.
“I like it.” He leaned in closer, his minty breath whispering against my cheek. “I think you should leave this on later when I get you naked. When I strip you off this dress and your panties.” He looked down at my cleavage. “Because you’re sure as hell not wearing a bra.”
It was hard to breathe, my throat was tight, my nipples were hard, and when I looked down it was clear that Liam was just as turned on as I was.
“There’s a problem with that,” I told him, my gaze fixed on the emerald windows to his soul. “Stripping me of my panties I mean.”
He looked me up and down, the tip of his tongue poking between his straight, white teeth. “What’s that?”
Inhaling slowly so my chest rubbed against his, I whispered, “Because I’m not wearing any.”
Liam blew out a breath, it was ragged, his shoulders rigid. “Well, that’s a huge problem, Sunshine.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll just have to think of something else to do, won’t I.”
I couldn’t speak, so I just nodded. He smiled and held out his hand.
“If you’re ready, your carriage awaits.”
As he led me to the limo, I kind of did feel like a princess.
“I don’t know what to say.” Liam’s chest rose slowly as he looked around the room.
Soft music played in the background accompanied by the clink of glasses and cutlery as the wait staff put their finishing touches to the dinner settings.
The hum of chatter was low as people moved around, readying for the guests arrival, but all I could see was the wonder on Liam’s face as he gazed at the hall.
“The purple.” He looked back to me, linking his fingers with mine. “It’s incredible, all of it.”
“You think Benny Champion will prefer it?”
A soft kiss landed on my temple. “He’ll love it, everyone will. You’ve done a great job, Charity. You, Carla, the team, you’ve surpassed yourselves.”
The pride I felt at his words was like a long warm hug and I was shocked at how much I relished them. Felt like I needed them.
“Thank you. But you’re right, it wasn’t just me, it was the whole team. I hope as host that you’re happy with everything through the night.”
He shifted from foot to foot and looked to the side before scratching his head. “I do have a confession to make.”
Heart thudding hard in my chest, I took a deep breath. “W-what? You haven’t done anything to Dexter Whitfield have you?”
His face darkened. “No, but don’t tempt me.” Nostrils flaring, he moved a step closer. “The entertainment.”
“I swapped out the band for a DJ,” I rolled my eyes, “just like you suggested. Don’t worry.”
“Yeah about that.” He winced. “I might have done something.”
Narrowing my eyes on him, I looked over to where the DJ was setting up. It was the same one that I’d booked after canceling the band. “He looks okay.”
“He is, he’s doing an hour and then…” Dropping his hands deep into his pockets he shifted his weight. “I rebooked the band. They’re going to do a set after dinner.”
I couldn’t believe it, he’d been insistent that a band was too expensive. Too over the top and unnecessary. “But I thought…What about the cost?”
“I paid for it myself. I felt bad because you’d probably had to sit through dozens of wedding bands and you liked them so.” He shrugged like what he’d done meant nothing. Like it was just a small token toward the night, but it wasn’t it was big. It was him doing something for me.
“Thank you.” Pushing my hand under his jacket, I felt the strong planes of his back, moving my fingertips along the deep ridge of his spine. A valley that I would never get bored of touching. “You’re a good man, Liam.” I dropped my voice. “So good that I’m going to reward you handsomely later.”
“I look forward to it.”
As Liam stepped closer, the glass and oak double doors flung open and with the wind in walked Dexter Whitfield.
Like the devil he swept in bringing the temperature down to ice level.
Liam stiffened and took a pace back, his shoulders rising almost to his ears.
Everyone else carried on, wait service, bartenders, arriving guests, but Liam stood still as a statue, watching like a lion stalking its prey.
Whitfield practically glided across the hall, glancing around while a small, dark haired woman wearing a bronze colored jumpsuit and silver pumps, chased after him.
The man clearly thought he was important as he waved his hand in a half rotation like he was British royalty or something.
“Is he always like that?” I’d only ever spoken to him on the phone and while I’d been wary after what Liam had told me about him, I’d tried to remain professional. “Like he owns the place?”
The responding growl was low and deep, and I could feel the anger coming from him like early morning mist on a lake.
Then Dexter Whitfield changed direction and headed my way, a smirk on his face like he knew the answer to every secret there ever was.
As he approached me, he looked me up and down.
His gaze skimmed over me like a blade, clinical and cutting, leaving a chill in its wake.
Appraising me like I was a piece of meat he was considering buying and instantly the hairs on my arms stood to attention.
When I noticed Liam’s hands curl into fists the tension thickened the air, heavy as storm humidity before a lightning strike.
I had to wonder whether the night would end up with a casualty of huge proportions.