The Elliotts: Bedrooms Not Boardrooms!

How in the hell he’d find a date on such short notice he didn’t know. He’d been out of the dating circuit since his grandfather’s announcement in January. But that wasn’t his father’s problem. If his parents wanted an Elliott at the gala, then Liam would be there, doing his duty the way he’d always done.

Aubrey looked at the man beside her and longed for a bed, a thick pillow, a silk-covered down comforter and solitude. Not sex. Which made her immediately think of Liam Elliott.

She huffed an exasperated breath and checked her diamond-faced watch. How long had she lasted this time? Less than an hour since she’d last vowed to never again think about Liam or their afternoon of amazing, curl-her-toes sex. God, she was weak. Blame it on exhaustion. She’d had precious little sleep during the past five nights, and when she had fallen into bed, Liam Elliott had joined her, invading her dreams and tangling her sheets.

Damn him.

As if thinking about Liam incarnated remnants of that afternoon, Aubrey spotted Trisha Evans across the ballroom. The gallery employee hadn’t known that Aubrey and Liam weren’t a couple, but that hadn’t stopped her from brazenly passing Liam her phone number along with a come-and-get-me smile and his receipt.

Witch.

The crowd shifted and Aubrey choked on her champagne when she recognized Trisha’s escort. Liam. Well, he hadn’t waited long to accept the brunette’s invitation. Emotion churned in Aubrey’s stomach. Anger? Jealousy? Whatever it was, it didn’t belong. How could she be angry or jealous? She and Liam weren’t—and never could be—a couple.

“Who’s the chick?”

“Pardon?” Aubrey turned to look at the hulking football player who’d escorted her to the arts fund-raiser this evening. One of her father’s magazines was doing a series of articles on Buck Parks and his recent retirement from the NFL. Her father had “suggested” Aubrey and Buck create a little buzz about the feature by appearing together at the gala.

“The brunette in the barely there red dress. You’re glaring at her like you want to mash her face into the turf.”

An apt description. “No one. She’s no one important.”

But at that moment Liam turned his head. His gaze lasered in on Aubrey from across the room and her breath jammed in her chest. He looked amazing in a tux. Suave. Sexy. GQ-gorgeous.

“Ah, now I get it.”

Aubrey blinked and broke the connection with Liam. Looking away wasn’t as easy as it should have been. She found sympathy in Buck’s eyes. “Get what?”

“It’s not her. It’s him.”

Was she completely transparent? “You’re mistaken. He’s the financial operating officer of Holt Enterprises’ chief competitor. I can’t be interested in him.”

Buck grinned and dipped his head. “Who’re you trying to fool, Aubrey?”

Buck was tall and built, smart and funny. He smelled good and filled out his custom-tailored tux to perfection. Why couldn’t she get hot and bothered over him? But she didn’t. She experienced no blip of her pulse when he said her name, no sweaty palms when he looked at her, no burning twist of her stomach when he touched her. The feeling—or lack there-of—was mutual.

Mischief danced in his eyes. “Wanna give him something to think about? Because he’s on his way over here.”

Aubrey’s heart stopped and then slammed in a rapid jackhammer beat. “He is?”

“Yep. I can plant one on you. Long, slow, and I’ll make it look deep and hot. He’ll get the message.”

If she weren’t panicking, she’d appreciate the handsome ball player’s offer, but at the moment she was on the verge of hyperventilating. If he covered her mouth with his, she’d suffocate.

Buck’s big hand curled around her waist and he tugged her closer. “Last chance,” he whispered against her jaw.

“Aubrey.” Liam’s hard voice sent a flash-fire of heat over her skin.

Gulping, she took a second to gather her scattered nerves, pasted what she hoped passed as a disinterested smile on her face and turned. “Good evening, Liam. Trisha. Are you enjoying the ball?”

Aubrey avoided Liam by focusing on Trisha’s triumphant smirk. Buck’s hands tightened on Aubrey’s waist. She made a mental note to thank him later. He reached past her and offered his hand first to Trisha and then to Liam. “Buck Parks.”

Trisha, evidently not satisfied with one big fish on the hook, fluttered her mascara-laden lashes at Buck and gushed her name and something inane about football. Aubrey’s deafening pulse drowned most of it out.

“Liam Elliott.” Testosterone crackled in the air as the men shook hands and then Buck’s arm settled around her waist and hauled her close to his hard body. Her pulse didn’t even hiccup.

Aubrey risked looking at Liam again.

“Mom loved the painting,” was all he said. His unreadable expression gave nothing away.

“I thought she would.”

And then his lips twitched. “She had me hang it in her bedroom. I didn’t ask why. Don’t want to know.”

Aubrey’s lips curved upward. “No. I bet not.”

Then memories of Liam touching her, tasting her, filling her, wiped away her smile and set her legs to trembling. She had to get out of here or at least away from him. She couldn’t leave the gala until she’d done as her father requested. Dance, schmooze, get your picture taken by a few society reporters.

“Well, it was good seeing you both, but I promised Buck a dance. Bye.” And then she looked up at the former quarterback and silently pleaded for him to rescue her. Lucky for her, Buck was as quick with his thoughts as he was on his feet.

Getting the seats switched cost Liam fifty bucks. The fact that he’d paid money to torture himself with what he couldn’t have didn’t say much about his intelligence.

He deliberately stalled until after Aubrey and her date were seated at the big, round table with three other couples before leading Trisha to their seats in the banquet hall adjoining the ballroom. Aubrey glanced up as he pulled out his date’s chair. Her violet eyes widened and filled with horror and then the color and her polite smile slid from her face.

She jerked her gaze forward and sat stiffly erect. Liam settled beside her. Their shoulders brushed as he adjusted his chair, and her scent filled his lungs, bringing back a flood of incendiary memories. His thigh nudged hers beneath the crowded table and blood drained from his brain.

He recovered enough to introduce Trisha and himself to the other diners at the table and then turned to Aubrey and her date. The big lug with her had tried to crush Liam’s hand earlier. Too bad it hadn’t worked. Liam had done his own share of bone crushing during the exchange.

Aubrey cozying up to the quarterback is none of your business.

“You left something at my place,” he whispered to Aubrey.

Her cheeks turned scarlet, confirming she’d not only heard him, she knew exactly what she’d left behind, but she didn’t turn her head. In fact, she ignored him, which irritated the daylights out of him.

“Want it back?”

“No. Throw it out.” Her reply was barely audible over the hum of conversation in the large room.

He waited until after the salads had been served. “Can’t do that, sweetheart.”

She dropped her fork. Within seconds a server had replaced it with a clean one and stepped back to hover. One bad thing about five-thousand-dollar-a-plate dinners was that the wait staff never went far. They hovered behind you, watching every move. Not that he intended to touch Aubrey—no matter how much he wanted to.

Parks stretched his left arm across the back of Aubrey’s chair, clenching his fist and displaying his Super Bowl ring for Liam’s scrutiny. The gesture blatantly staked a claim, riling Liam. Hard eyes met Liam’s behind Aubrey’s back. Liam set his jaw.

Buddy, if she were yours, she wouldn’t have been in my bed.

Aubrey glanced at Liam and then swiftly turned to the man on her right. She said something, drawing Parks’s attention.

Liam faced forward. What in the hell are you doing, Elliott? Are you willing to fight for a woman you can’t have?