His Forever Family. Sarah M. Anderson
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Nabakov.”
“Too Russian Mafia.”
Liberty sighed heavily. “Emma Green?”
Marcus scowled harder. He had actually gone out with Emma several times. “Really?”
“She’s a known quantity,” Liberty explained. “No surprises.”
“Wrong. People would think that us dating again is a sure sign of wedding bells.” Specifically, his parents.
Marcus had done many things to keep the peace with his mother and father. Hell, he’d come damn close to getting married to Lillibeth Hanson, all because they thought that was best.
He wasn’t going to risk that kind of trap again.
“The options are limited and time is running short, Mr. Warren,” Liberty said in exasperation. She jammed her hands on her hips. “The wedding is in two weeks. If you insist on attending with a date, you need to actually ask someone to go with you.”
“Fine. I’ll just take you.”
The effect of this statement was immediate. Liberty’s eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open and, in a fraction of a second, her gaze dropped over his body. Something that looked a hell of a lot like want flashed over her face.
What? Did she actually want him?
Then it was gone. She straightened up and did her best to look imperial. “Mr. Warren, be serious.”
“I am serious. I trust you.” He took a step toward her. “Sometimes I think...you’re the only person who’s honest with me. You wouldn’t try to sell all the details of a date to the gossip rags.” Which had been a huge part of the scandal with Lillibeth. She had capitalized on her affair, painting Marcus as a lousy boyfriend both in and out of the bedroom.
Liberty bit at her lower lip. “Honestly? I don’t think you should go at all. Why would you give her the chance to hurt you again?” Her voice had dropped and she didn’t sound imperious at all. Instead, she sounded...as if she wanted to protect him.
It was a fair question. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want to give Lillibeth the chance to cut him down again. But he’d promised his parents that he’d put a good face on it and make sure the Warren name still meant power and money.
“And for the record,” she went on, “I think doing that Feeding Frenzy reality show is also a bad idea. The whole problem with Lillibeth was that your private life suddenly became public fodder. Going on television to bid on investment ideas? You’re just inviting people to further make a commodity out of you.”
“It’s supposed to be a good way to build my brand.”
Liberty rolled her eyes again, as if that was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “Seriously? You’ve built a successful venture capital firm without being a celebrity. You have plenty of people dying to pitch to you. Heck, I’m surprised we haven’t been accosted by a ‘jogger’ lying in wait to pitch you his million-dollar idea yet.”
He tensed at the idea of being accosted by anyone. But no—no suspicious vehicles with armed men were around. The past was in the past.
“But you know what?” Liberty took a step toward him, jabbing at him with her index finger. She could be a formidable woman in her own right. “You do this reality show, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. You won’t be able to run along the lake without plowing through idiots in running shoes who want a piece of your time and your fortune. Don’t feed the machine, Marcus. Don’t do what ‘they’ think you should do. For the love of God, do what you want.”
Marcus. Had she ever called him by his first name before? He didn’t think so. The way her lips moved over his name—that was the sort of thing he’d remember. “Maybe I want to take you to the wedding.”
It was hard to say if she blushed, as she was already red faced from the run and the heat. But something in her expression changed. “No,” she said flatly. Before he could take the rejection personally, she added, “I—it—would be bad for you.”
He could hear the pain in her voice. He took a step toward her and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, her eyes wide and—hopeful? His hand drifted from her shoulder to her cheek and damned if she didn’t lean into his touch. “How could you be bad for me?”
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he’d pushed this too far. Yes, Liberty Reese was an exceptional assistant and yes, she was beautiful—when she wasn’t struggling through a summer run.
But what had started as an offhand comment about a date to a wedding now meant something else. Something more.
She shut down on him. She stepped out of his touch and turned to face the lake. “It’s getting warmer,” she said in a monotone voice. “We need to finish our run.”
“Do you have any water left?”
She looked sheepish. “No.”
He held out his hand. “Give me your bottle. There’s a water fountain a couple hundred yards away. I’ll fill it up.”
She unhooked her bottle and handed it over. “Thanks,” she said, sounding perfectly normal, as if he hadn’t just asked her out and touched her face. As if she hadn’t turned him down flat. Somehow, it made him admire her even more. “I’ll wait here. Try not to get any brilliant ideas, okay?”
Marcus took off at top speed. He heard Liberty shout, “Show-off!”
He laughed.
The water in the drinking fountain was too warm. He let it run for a few seconds, hoping it’d cool off. As he waited, he looked around. There was a trash can only a few feet away, boxes and bags piled around it on the ground. Marcus scowled at the garbage. Why couldn’t people take care of the park, dammit? The trash can was right there.
As he filled the water bottle and debated calling the mayor about the garbage pickup schedule, he heard a noise. It was a small noise, but it didn’t belong. It wasn’t a gull crying or a squirrel scampering—it was closer to a...a cat mewing?
Marcus looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. A shoe box on the ground next to the trash can moved.
Marcus’s stomach fell in. Oh, no—who would throw a kitten away? He hurried over to the box and pulled the lid off and—
Sweet Jesus. Not a cat. Not a kitten.
A baby.
Breathing hard, Liberty admired the view as Marcus sprinted away from her. When he reached the water fountain, she turned her attention back to the lake. It wouldn’t do to be caught staring at her boss’s ass. Even if it was a fine ass. And even if the owner had just made one of himself.
Instead, she took the time to appreciate the gift that was this morning. She hadn’t set foot in a church in a good fifteen years. But every morning she stood here and looked out on Lake Michigan and gave thanks to God or the higher power or whoever the hell was listening.
She was alive. She was healthy. She had a good job that paid for food and a safe apartment. There was even some money left over for things like running shoes and haircuts.
“Liberty?” Marcus yelled from the water fountain. “Liberty!”
Even though Marcus couldn’t see her, she glared at him. What the hell had gotten into him this morning? One of the reasons she worked for him—aside from the insane salary he paid her—was the fact that he treated her as an equal. It was a bit of delusion on her part to pretend that she was on par with the likes of Marcus Warren, but it was her delusion, dammit.
And that delusion worked only because it was just her and Marcus on these runs, both in running clothes. The delusion didn’t work when he was wearing a four-thousand-dollar suit