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father is forcing my hand, so to speak, so that I can’t turn him down. What would it look like if Mitchell Davenport’s daughter said yes, then no, to his hand-picked son-in-law? I’ll be the most ungrateful, spoiled, willful child there ever was.”
    â€œSo you’re not getting married?” Why on God’s earth was
that
the question he asked? Jesus, her perfume must have infected his brain.
    â€œNot to Burton Carstairs I’m not. It’d be like marrying my dad, and that’s the last thing I’m ever going to do.”
    â€œYeah, but who are you going to find except Daddy’s hand-picked henchman to be able to afford this place?”
    She stormed back across the room toward him, one finger pointed right at his chest. “Seriously? You actually have the
nerve
to say that?”
    Liam stepped up onto the foyer level from the sunken living room so she wouldn’t be eye-level with him.
    That finger hit him in the chest. Ouch. Damn manicure was sharp.
    â€œHow
dare
you say that. You don’t know anything about me. Don’t believe what you read in the papers. Today’s story is the perfect example of the lies they’ll make up to sell advertising. I am not some spoiled, useless doll that my father puts on the shelf when not parading me out in public. I actually have a job at his company.”
    Liam decided discretion was the better part of valor when it came to that statement. From what he’d seen of her over the years, her so-called job
was
to come out and look pretty. Just like a doll.
    Luckily, her cell phone rang then, saving him from making the matter worse. Sure, she could boast all she wanted that she wasn’t going to marry this Burton guy, but she ought to know that Mitchell Davenport had rarely lost a battle he’d wanted to win. It would take a certain kind of man to marry Davenport’s daughter, and Carstairs sounded like the perfect toady. Hand-picked and modeled after the man himself. That way, he’d never have to worry what Carstairs was going to do with his company or his daughter.
    â€œNo, Stacey,” Cassidy said into the phone, “it’s not true. Burton didn’t propose, so I couldn’t have turned him down.” She raked a hand through her hair again, which hiked her shirt up a little bit.
    Shit. That curve of her waist was enough to get his mouth watering.
    Utterly inappropriate.
    â€œYeah, I know. It’s going to be a major pain in the ass to set the record straight. I should just go away and let the whole thing blow over.” She tapped her finger against the corner of her mouth.
    Yes, Liam was watching her a lot longer than he should—but he wasn’t about to look away. Her toes were bare—except for that blue nail polish of course—and the way they curled into the thick carpet had him imagining how he’d get them to curl when he kissed his way down her body—
    Back the fuck off, Manley. You are not going anywhere near this woman. Have you forgotten about Rachel?
    Right. Rachel. His disillusionment and almost-downfall.
    â€œOh, that’s right. I’d forgotten you are. Well, what about Donna? Isn’t she going to Monte Carlo? I haven’t been in a whi—Oh. I hadn’t realized. Well, what about Janet? Wasn’t her father buying her that house in Marbella? I love that town. The water’s gorgeous and the atmosphere is just—” She tucked a shank of hair behind her ear. “She said that? Well I don’t know what I did to her that she’d—” She sighed. “I guess. But Jean’s in Long Island with her relatives, so that’s out, and Mary’s at the Cape with her new boyfriend, and Joy’s in Europe for the rest of the summer, and with you going to LA, it looks like I’m stuck here, and alone to boot.”
    Liam didn’t say anything about the poor little rich girl having no place to go. Poor her; she had to