and pepper our grocery store hasn’t got it.” She paused to savor. “This is really exceptional. You must have brought the ingredients with you from the south.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Ginger?”
“A little.”
“Garlic?”
“Nope.”
“Really?” She chewed some more. “Curry?”
“Some.”
“Ah-ha. That’s what gives it the zing.”
Liam nodded. “You have to know how much—”
“No,” Willa said, putting up a hand to stop him. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”
“You wanted to know a second ago,” he said, setting his fork on the table.
“I’ve changed my mind. There’s a certain magical quality to a man who can cook. I wouldn’t have expected it from you.”
“Me?”
“Jason says you’re not much of a cook.”
“Jason says?”
“Yeah. I’m working with you now, so I asked.”
The happy shine in his eyes died. “How long have you known?”
“About your cooking? I think he mentioned it to me last week.”
“No. Who I am.”
She stared at him blankly for a couple of seconds. “Are you the Queen of England’s lost nephew or something?”
“Funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest. His frown could’ve frozen a forest fire. “What do you want?”
“Is this a trick question? Some more of this chicken.”
He glared at her as if she’d insulted his manhood. Why was he so angry? “What the heck is wrong with you? I compliment your cooking, but you’re taking it like I told you it tasted horrible.”
“So you don’t know who I am?”
“I thought you were Liam, Jason’s nephew and my pilot. Have you got any other people in your head?”
He didn’t respond. The muscles in his jaw tensed, and his lips twisted into a cruel parody of a smile.
Fear ran its cold fingers up her spine. Her feet wanted to run, but she made herself stay in the chair and ask in an even tone, “Who are you?”
“Are you in this relationship with me because of who I am?”
“What relationship? You made it very clear that whatever this is, it isn’t a relationship.” The fear rose into her throat, threatening to cut off her air supply. If he’d moved, she would have bolted, but he remained where he was. She repeated her question. “Who are you?”
Liam laughed without humor. “Liam Reynolds.”
“I already knew your name.”
He leaned forward suddenly and she nearly came out of her chair. “You don’t recognize it?”
She struggled to control her breathing. “Am I supposed to?”
“I was on the news last year a lot.”
Wait…what? “I’ve been here for over two years and I don’t have time for television. Why were you on TV?”
His gaze never left her face. “The short story is, a woman tried to extort money from me.”
Money.
“Are you rich or something?”
“Define rich. ”
“Someone who has a year’s salary or more in the bank.”
He shrugged. “I guess if that’s your yardstick, then yeah, I am. Really rich.”
He sat there, watching her, obviously waiting for a reaction.
She had no idea which reaction would get her out of his apartment safely.
Really rich equaled really dangerous. Her wealthy ex-husband had been a selfish bully, as had several of his friends. She’d thought Liam was different—at least he’d given her that impression over the last few weeks. Good thing she’d discovered the truth before she’d done something completely stupid, like sleep with him.
Fall in love with him.
She had to get out. Wood scraped linoleum as she rose, grabbed her coat and headed for the door.
He frowned. “Where are you going?”
She stopped and looked at him. Her chin quivered as she said, “Home.”
“Home?” He stood. “Wait, you don’t want anything from me?”
She stopped with her hand on the doorknob. “All I ever wanted was your respect.” She slammed the door behind her.
It opened a second later. “Willa, come back. I’m sorry.”
She ignored him and stumbled out of the building, her eyes full of tears, not sure