Wicked Heat. Kelli Ireland

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      And he wanted more of her, then and there, than he’d ever wanted of another woman.

      He hesitated a split second, but it was enough.

      Ella broke the kiss, slipped under his arm and took several long strides toward the bedroom. Pausing, she reached down and slipped her heels off. Liam watched as she curled her bare feet into the fluffy rug and then uncurled them.

      He couldn’t believe that this woman, this siren, would have toenails painted the faintest seashell pink. It seemed like a secret that he alone knew, and he had the strangest urge to keep anyone else from knowing this tiny private thing about her.

      This had to stop.

      He hadn’t come here to engage in a tryst. The only reason compelling enough to take him away from the office mid–corporate takeover was his little sister’s well-being. When she’d told him she needed help planning the perfect wedding, he’d met her and her fiancé in London for dinner. The man, semiprofessional baseball player Mike Feigenbaum, had been attentive at first. That had quickly devolved following a phone call the man had taken midmeal—answering without apology and leaving the table without excusing himself. He’d missed most of the main course and had snapped at Jenna when she went to check on him. She’d been upset, and her proposed groom had done nothing to console her. Instead, he’d shown signs of a temper Liam wouldn’t allow Jenna to become tied to.

      So he’d flown halfway round the world to stop his sister from marrying a domineering asshole following a whirlwind romance that had been documented by all the gossip rags.

      Rolling up his sleeves and strolling with feigned casualness to the hammock, Liam lay down and locked his hands behind his head. He watched Ella from under half-lowered eyelids. She was temptation incarnate. Her body was in lush profile to him, her unapologetic stare locked on his.

      “So that’s what our kiss would have been like?” He rubbed his chin between thumb and forefinger. “Sufficient.”

      She chuffed out a sound of indignation laced with disbelief. “If that driving wood behind your zipper is any indication, that kiss was far more than sufficient.” Bending, she scooped up her shoes. “And seeing as I’ve been more than clear on my lack of appreciation for liars, I’d suggest you cut the crap.”

      “Testy.” Liam gently set the hammock to rocking and continued to watch Ella. “Tell me, have you always had this aversion to fibbers, or is this something new?”

      “I’ve never been a fan of lying. What’s the point?”

      “To get what one wants, I assume.”

      Her face closed up, any and all emotion under lock and key. “No matter whom you hurt?”

      “Who hurt you?” The question wasn’t meant to be as weighty as it sounded, but Liam found himself desperately wanting to resolve the problem for this fiery woman. It would cost him little and potentially relieve her of some personal baggage.

      She looked at him askance, worrying her bottom lip.

      “Tell me.”

      “Ask nicely,” she retorted.

      He waited.

      So did she.

      Liam rolled his eyes. “Please.”

      “You’ve heard of Two Turtle Doves?”

      He shook his head.

      “It’s a prime-time TV show. I was supposed to be half of it. My business partner sold me out, took our idea to the network and they bought it...without me as a cohost.”

      Liam set his foot on the deck and stopped the hammock’s rocking. “Threw you under the bus, did she?”

      “He, and yes. Clients followed the fame, and that left me coordinating children’s birthday parties and bar mitzvahs to make ends meet. No one wanted the event planner who hadn’t been good enough for the network to pick up.”

      “But you were excluded. It wasn’t a matter of being good enough,” he countered.

      “That part didn’t make the network news. All people knew was that I was cut out of the deal. They assumed.”

      “So your partner lied...”

      “And everyone believed him. He ruined my life with a single lie.” She shrugged. “That pretty much made me a stickler for the truth. And now your sister’s wedding is going to put me back on the map and reestablish my reputation as the premier event coordinator for the upper echelon of Los Angeles.”

      The truth pricked the little guilt he allowed himself, but he couldn’t let that sway him from his course of action, no matter how deliciously tempting he found Ella, nor how heartbreaking her story was. Jenna’s happiness and well-being had to come before all else, including Ella’s business. After all, she would have a multitude of opportunities to reclaim her place in the who’s who of society planners. But Jenna? She had one real shot at a happily-ever-after, and it was not going to happen with some semiprofessional baseball player from Wisconsin.

      Settling deeper into the hammock, Liam set the swing into motion once more. He closed his eyes and forced his breathing into a rhythmic pattern—in, two, three, four, five...hold...out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. His heart rate slowed. The churning in his stomach eased. And he was able to address Ella, who’d moved to stand at the foot of the hammock.

      “I can’t speak to the reputation you once had, but I’ve no doubt you’re perfectly capable. My sister wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t.” He opened his eyes. “Seeing as we’re going to be spending the next seven days together, how do you propose we best handle our close proximity?”

      She tilted her head toward the bedroom before flicking open the top button of her blouse. She grinned, backing away from him. “I can handle the...proximity issue...if you can. First thing I’m going to do is put my dive suit on and check out the resort’s dive excursion. Your sister and her fiancé wanted some fun prewedding activities for their guests, so I’m planning a group dive. But I want to check out the instructors myself and make sure the experience not only meets but exceeds the hype. Sunken ship, hammerhead sharks, colorful reefs with abundant life—all that jazz.”

      Liam stood and moved toward her, closing the distance with measured steps until he stood mere inches from her. He looked down and stared into light green eyes rimmed with ebony lashes. Reaching out, he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

      “I, uh...”

      He leaned toward her, quietly amused at the way she responded, instinctively moving closer to him before she caught herself. Undoubtedly, it was her need for control that forced her to pause midmotion. But she didn’t retreat, didn’t recover the steps she’d taken toward him.

       Good to know.

      “I thought we’d cleared this up,” she said. “Business before pleasure.”

      “Oh, we did.” He deftly removed the earring that had been about to fall free of her ear, handing it over. “I didn’t want you to lose this. It looks like the real deal.”

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