The Romance Plan - Lila Monroe Page 0,52

at the Plaza. Don’t get me wrong, I love my little jewel box of a studio apartment, but there’s nothing wrong with availing oneself of the finer things in life every once in a while. I take a long, hot shower, turning my face up into the spray from the rain showerhead and taking advantage of the many body sprayers. Once I’m finished, I wrap myself in a fluffy white robe and head on out into the massive kitchen to make some coffee.

I meant what I said as Liam hauled me off into the bedroom last night—his apartment is gorgeous, with carefully selected furniture and expensive-looking modern art on the walls. The light is incredible, and the tall, wide windows offer a breathtaking view of the skyline of my favorite city on earth. But the more I look around this place, the more it occurs to me that something is missing here. There are no personal touches anywhere—no family photos, no well-thumbed paperbacks on the bookshelves.

No soul.

Liam doesn’t seem to miss it—and it sure is efficient, what with the gym in the basement and the 24 hour concierge service, his dry cleaning waiting, freshly laundered just inside his door. But it kind of makes me feel sad for him. It’s an incredible place to live, no question. But I don’t know that I’d call it a home.

In any case, I’m not about to look a gift kitchen in the mouth. “Hello, Le Creuset,” I murmur, hitting the start button on the coffeemaker and setting out the ingredients for my grandma’s famous chocolate-chip pancakes. I tune the sound system to a low-key jazz station and lose myself in the simple pleasure of making breakfast in an extremely fancy kitchen.

Is it terrible to say, I could get used to this: the mind-blowing sex, and the high-end appliances?

I’m just drizzling a ladleful of batter into a hot buttered pan when Liam pads down the hall in all his deliciously half-naked glory, dressed only in black boxer briefs and a smile. “Morning,” he says sleepily, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Morning yourself,” I say with a grin. It’s the most disheveled I’ve ever seen him, his eyes heavy-lidded and his hair temptingly mussed, and I can’t act like it’s not appealing. I reach out and rub my thumb over his bristly jaw, then drag it gently down across his lips. His mouth opens slightly, his teeth catching the pad of my thumb in a way that makes me shiver.

Liam curls a hand around my waist and pulls me close for a kiss, his body still warm from sleep. I wrap my arms around his neck, rocking my hips against him without entirely meaning to do it. Liam groans low and quiet in my ear. “Can I ask you something?” I murmur even as he’s trailing kisses down my neck and into the collar of my robe. “What are we doing here, exactly?”

Liam straightens up at that—not tense, but curious. “What do you want to be doing?” he asks, looking at me seriously. The question isn’t a tease or a trick, I realize, gazing back at him. He sincerely wants to know.

“I don’t know,” I confess honestly, shrugging inside his arms. “But whatever it is…I want to keep doing it.”

Liam smiles at that, his eyes dark and the tiniest bit dangerous. “I think that can be arranged,” he says. He reaches for the sash on my fluffy white bathrobe, his gaze locked on mine as he tugs it open and pulls me against him one more time.

Needless to say: The pancakes burn.

Luckily, I made extra batter, so after a not-too-brief trip back to the bedroom, I put on another batch. We eat them standing up at the counter, the morning sun streaming in through the window above the sink. “So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I ask.

“Wall to wall meetings,” he says with a grimace. “In the morning, at least. You?”

I glance at the clock on the stove. “I should probably get into the office, actually,” I say. “My boss is a total hard-ass.”

“You know, I’ve heard that about him,” Liam grins, dragging his index finger through a puddle of maple syrup on his plate and holding it up for me to lick clean. “You better get going, I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I don’t know, trouble sounds pretty good to me,” I tease, reaching up for one last kiss.

Back at my apartment, I quickly dress in my usual work clothes… and