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His badge identified him as Flynn, and she couldn’t help thinking that he looked more like a Bruno or a Bruiser.
He looked at the photo on her badge, then back at her, one brow raised slightly higher than the other. He didn’t say, You don’t look like a scientist, but she could tell he was thinking it.
He handed it back to her. “You should wear this at all times.”
“I know. I forgot.” She hooked it on her sweater, managing not to skewer her skin as she had yesterday. “Maybe you can help me. I’m trying to get to the dining room,” she told him. “I’ve lost my way.”
“Would you like me to show you the way?”
She sighed with relief. “That would be wonderful. I’m about three minutes from being late for dinner, and I’m already in the doghouse with Geoffrey.”
“We can’t have that,” he said, gesturing in the direction she’d just come from. “This way, miss.”
This time she paid attention as he led her downstairs to the dining room and she was pretty sure that she would be able to find her way back to her room. But she would keep the map with her at all times, just in case.
Prince Aaron was sitting in the dining room waiting for her, nursing a drink, when they walked in.
“I found her, Your Highness,” Flynn told him.
“Thank you, Flynn,” the prince said.
He nodded and left, and Liv realized it was no accident that she’d encountered him in the hallway.
“How did you know I would get lost?” she asked him.
He grinned. “Call it a hunch.”
He rose from his chair and pulled out the adjacent chair for her, and as she sat, his fingers brushed the backs of her shoulders. Was he doing it on purpose? And if so, why did he feel the need to touch her all the time? Did he get some morbid kick out of making her nervous?
The only other time she’d had an experience with a touchy-feely person was back in graduate school. Professor Green had had a serious case of inappropriately wandering hands that, on a scale of one to ten, had an ick factor of fifteen. All of his female students fell victim to his occasional groping.
But unlike her professor, when Aaron touched her, she liked the way it felt. The shiver of awareness and swift zing of sexual attraction. She just wished she knew what it meant.
He eased her chair in and sat back down, lounging casually, drink in hand. “Would you like a drink? A glass of wine?”
“No, thank you. I have to stay sharp.”
“What for?”
“Work.”
He frowned. “You’re working tonight?”
“Of course.”
“But by the time we finish dinner, it will be after eight o’clock.”
She shrugged. “So?”
“So, I have an idea. Why don’t you take a night off?”
“Take a night off?”
“Instead of locking yourself in the lab, why don’t you spend the evening with me?”
Chapter Six
The confused look on Liv’s face was as amusing as it was endearing. She was as far from his type as a woman could be, yet Aaron wanted inside her head, wanted to know what made her tick.
Geoffrey appeared with the first course of their dinner, a mouthwatering lobster bisque. He knew this because he’d managed to sneak a taste before the chef had chased him out of the kitchen.
“How about that drink?” he asked Liv.
“Just water, please. Bottled, if you have it.”
Geoffrey nodded and left to fetch it.
“You never answered my question,” he said.
She fidgeted with her napkin. “I’m here to work, Your Highness.”
“Aaron,” he reminded her. “And you just worked a twenty-four-hour shift. Everyone needs a break every now and then.”
“I had a break. I slept all day.”
He could see he was getting nowhere, so he tried a different angle: the guilt card. He frowned and said, “Is the idea of spending time with me really so repulsive?”
Her eyes widened and she vigorously shook her head. “No! Of course not! I didn’t mean to imply…” She frowned and bit her lip.
He could see that she was this close to giving in, so he made the decision for her. “It’s settled, then. You’ll spend the evening with me.”
She looked hesitant, but seemed to realize that she had little choice in the matter. “I guess one night off wouldn’t kill me.”
“Excellent. What do you do for fun?”
She stared blankly.
“You do have fun occasionally, right?”
“When I’m not working I read a lot to catch up on the latest scientific discoveries and theories.”
He shot her a skeptical look.
“That’s fun.”
“I’m talking social interaction. Being with other human beings.”
He got a blank look from Liv.
“What about sports?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’m not exactly athletic.”
A person would never know it by her figure. She looked very fit. He knew women who spent hours in the gym to look like Liv, and would kill to have a figure like that naturally.
“Do you go to movies?” he asked. “Watch television?”
“I don’t get to the movies very often, and I don’t own a television.”
This time his eyes widened. “How can you not own a television?”
“What’s the point? I’m never home to watch it.”
“Music? Theater?”
She shook her head.
“There must be something you like to do besides work and read about work.”
She thought about it for a moment, chewing her lip in concentration, then she finally said, “There is one thing I’ve always wanted to try.”
“What’s that?”
“Billiards.”
Her answer surprised him. “Seriously?”
She nodded. “It’s actually very scientific.”
He grinned. “Well, then, you’re in luck. We have a billiards table in the game room, and I happen to be an excellent teacher.”
Ten minutes into her first billiards lesson, Liv began to suspect that choosing this particular game had been a bad idea. Right about the time that Aaron handed her a cue and then proceeded to stand behind her, leaning her over the edge of the table, his body pressed to hers, and demonstrating the appropriate way to hold it.
Hard as she tried to concentrate on his instructions, as he took her through several practice shots, she kept getting distracted by the feel of his wide, muscular chest against her back. His big, bulky arms guiding her. His body heat penetrating her clothes and warming her skin. And oh, did he smell good. Whatever aftershave or cologne he’d used that morning had long since faded and his natural, unique scent enveloped her.
It’s just chemical, she reminded herself. And wholly one-sided. He wasn’t holding her like this for pleasure, or as some sort of come-on. He was giving her a billiards lesson. Granted, she’d never had one before, but it stood to reason this was the way one would do it. Although the feel of him guiding the cue, sliding it back and forth between her thumb and forefinger, was ridiculously erotic.
If he did have some other sort of lesson on his mind, one that had nothing to do with billiards, she was so far out of her league that she couldn’t even see her own league from here. Although, she had to admit, the view here was awfully nice.
“Have you got that?” Aaron asked.
She realized all this time he’d been explaining the game to her and she had completely zoned out. Which was absolutely unlike her. She turned her head toward him and he was so close her cheek collided with his chin. She could feel his breath shifting the wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail.
She jerked her head back to look at the table, swallowing back a nervous giggle. Then she did something that she hardly ever did, at least, not since she was a rebellious teen. She lied and said, “I think I’ve got it.”
He stepped back, racked up the balls, then said, “Okay, give it a try.”
She lined the cue up to the white ball, just the way he’d shown her, but she was so nervous that when she took the shot she hit the green instead, leaving a chalky line on the surface. She cringed and said, “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he assuredher. “Try it again, but this time get a little closer to the ball. Like this.” He demonstrated the motion with his own cue, then backed away.
She leaned back over, following his actions, and this time she managed to hit the ball, but the force only moved it about six inches to the left, completely missing the other balls, before it rolled to a stop. “Ugh.”
“No, that was good,” he assured her. “You just need to work on your aim and put a little weight behind it. Don’t be afraid to give it a good whack.”
“I’ll try.”
He set the cue ball back in place and she leaned over, lining it up, and this time she really whacked it. A little too hard, because the ball went airborne, banking to the left, right off the table. She cringed as it landed with a sharp crack on the tile floor. “Sorry!”
“It’s okay,” he said with a good-natured chuckle, rounding the table to fetch the ball. “Maybe not quite so hard next time.”
She frowned. “I’m terrible at this.”
“You just started. It takes practice.”
That was part of the problem. She didn’t have time to practice. Which was exactly why she was hesitant to try new things. Her motto had always been, If you can’t be the best at something, why bother?
“Watch me,” he said.
She stepped aside to give him room. He bent over and lined up the shot, but instead of keeping her eyes on his cue, where they were supposed to be, she found herself drawn to the perfect curve of his backside. His slacks hugged him just right.
She heard a loud crack, and lifted her gaze to see the balls scattering all over the table.
“Just like that,” he said, and she nodded, despite the fact that, like before, she hadn’t been paying attention. He backed up and gestured to the table. “Why don’t you knock a few around. Work on your aim.”
Despite her awkwardness, somehow Aaron always managed to make her feel less…inept. And after some practice and a couple of false starts, she was actually getting the hang of it. She even managed to keep all the balls on the table where they belonged and sink a few in the pockets. When they played a few actual games, she didn’t do too badly, although she had the sneaking suspicion he was deliberately going easy on her.
After a while, despite having slept most of the day, she started yawning.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” he said.
“What time is it?”
“Half past twelve.”
“Already!” She had no idea they’d been playing that long.
“Past your bedtime?” he teased.
“Hardly.” As if on cue, she yawned again, so deeply moisture filled her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m so sleepy.”
“Probably jet lag. It’ll just take a few days for your system to adjust. Why don’t you go to bed and get a good night’s sleep, then start fresh in the morning.”
As eager as she was to get back down to the lab, he was probably right. Besides, she really needed samples and her assistant wouldn’t be here until the next morning. Maybe she could take some time to catch up on a bit of reading.
“I think maybe I will,” she told him.
He took her cue and hung it, and his own, on a wall rack. “Maybe we can try this again, tomorrow night.”
