of tangling with Penn again. Without the Saint Bernard involved, this time.
“What’s that smile?” Zane studied him like he was a hot, billion-dollar deal.
“What smile?” Liam grabbed his workout bag. “Thanks, Simeon.”
The older man grunted. “That smile says woman.”
“I have a site visit,” Liam said.
“Woman,” Simeon insisted.
Liam waved and disappeared into the locker room before he got interrogated.
He was highly conscious of the fact that Penn was an employee, which made her off-limits. He’d watched his father sleep through half of his own company, and it was a line Liam didn’t cross.
No matter how intriguing he found the lovely, confident Penn.
He showered and dressed in his bespoke Henry Poole suit, and drove his Aston Martin DB11 to the office. He parked in the garage and took the executive elevator to his office.
He loved being in the office early or late at night—when it was quiet, no one else was around.
He scanned the tiles and glass, the vase of fresh flowers on the reception desk. His name etched on the wall.
Kensington Group was his. He’d built it from the ground up. He was the one who’d taken the risks, worked endless all-nighters, and bled for it. No doubt he’d been privileged—one thing his father had given him was a good education, but after college, Rupert had tried to bring Liam to heel.
Liam had actually wanted to join the British Army. Rupert had wanted him to take over the family business in London. And run everything his father’s way. Rupert was fond of handshake deals and business that didn’t sit well with Liam.
Thanks to his father’s interference—he’d been buddies with a few generals—the Army wasn’t an option. He’d decided to start his own company from the ground up in order to stick it to his father.
Liam was bloody proud of everything he’d forged on his own—every brick, beam, and wall.
He sat behind his desk and sorted through some messages that Eleanor had left for him.
“Hello, there,” a throaty, female voice drawled.
Liam looked up, frowned.
A tall woman leaned in his doorway. She wore a long, fur coat, and had a cloud of styled black hair, and wide, almond-shaped eyes.
It took him a second to place her. To be fair, he’d only met her once in person, and he was used to seeing her in her underwear plastered on billboards.
Geneva Sorensen.
She was the model of the moment—taking New York by storm. She’d worn some infamous dress to the Met Gala, and was headlining Fashion Week.
They’d met at a party a few weeks back, and she’d put both her phone number and her hotel key card in his pocket.
He hadn’t been tempted to use either. A few months ago, she’d been seen partying with his father on a yacht in the South of France.
“Geneva.”
“Liam.” She tossed her head back in a move that had to be practiced. “You never called.”
“How did you get up here?”
“The guard downstairs recognized me.” Her perfect lips formed a smile. “I told him we were special friends.”
Liam made a note to talk to the head of security. “Well, I’m afraid I’m on my way out—”
She strode in, and her coat shifted, giving him a view of her long, leggy body clad only in bronze lingerie.
Ah, hell. She was gorgeous, of course, and he supposed he should be worried that he barely felt more than a blip of interest.
“Geneva, this is my place of business. I’ve a full day ahead—”
“We can have so much fun together.” Her voice was a sexy purr. “Cancel your meetings.”
Liam sighed. Seriously?
There was movement in the doorway and Penn appeared. Today, she was wearing wide-legged black pants, and a red top with a tie at the neck. Her pale-blonde hair was up in a bun.
She eyed Geneva and her lips twitched. She looked like she was trying not to laugh.
“Good morning, Mr. Kensington,” Penn said.
Geneva pulled her coat closed, turned and stuck out a hip. It was a pose he’d seen her use on the catwalk.
“Go away.” Geneva waved a hand at Penn.
Penn raised a brow. “Sorry, I work for him, not you.”
Liam rose. “Do not move, Penn.”
“You’d prefer to spend time with this.” Geneva waved a hand at Penn again.
Penn gave a mock wince and slapped a hand to her chest. “Oh no, my self-esteem is shattered.” The sarcasm came through loud and thick.
The model made an annoyed sound.
“Look, lady,” Penn said. “Like I said, I work for him, and we have a meeting. You really want to be gone before Eleanor arrives, because she’ll