Chapter Two

Chapter 2

"Another martini for the lady?"

Ava looked up from studying the bar menu to find the bartender giving her an expectant look. From his slightly glazed-over eyes, he had clearly already had a few too many drinks himself over the course of the evening.

"No please," She opened her mouth to politely decline another drink, but a smooth, confident voice cut her off from behind.

"She'll take a glass of the 1992 Montrachet wine instead. And keep them coming."

Ava looked around to find a tall, ruggedly handsome stranger sliding onto the bar stool next to her. His casual confidence and self-assurance were undeniable, from the mischievous grin playing at his lips to the bold way his dark eyes met her surprised gaze.

"Excuse me?" Ava huffed in indignation, her perfectly arched eyebrows drawing together in a frown. "I didn't need you to tell me what to drink."

The mystery man's amused grin didn't falter as he signaled for the bartender to get the wine he'd ordered. "You looked like a woman in need of something stronger than another fruity cocktail."

"And I look like a woman perfectly capable of deciding that for myself," Ava retorted, mustering as much disdain as she could for his audacious presumption.

Who did this arrogant guy think he was, imposing his unsolicited opinions on what she should drink? The gall and entitlement were galling, even for a city swarming with cocky, entitled men.

"Trust me," the man said, leaning in closer with a conspiratorial grin. "One glass of this and you'll be thanking me."

Before Ava could formulate a suitably withering rejection, two pristine wine glasses were set before them, filled with the crisp golden liquid that promised a fruity and undoubtedly luxurious bouquet.

"Keep the bottle on ice for these two lovebirds," he stage whispered loudly to one of the cocktail waitresses with an obnoxious nudge of his elbow.

Ava felt her cheeks flush hot with humiliation and indignation. Lovebirds? She shot a seething glare at the arrogant stranger, who merely lifted his glass in a mocking toast, utterly unruffled by her anger.

"I'm Liam, by the way, Liam Parker," he offered by way of casual introduction, taking an insolent sip from his glass.

"Well, Liam Parker," Ava said through gritted teeth, struggling to control her rising temper. "Considering you've already taken the tremendous liberty of ordering me a seventy-dollar glass of wine without asking, why do you think I will drink with a total stranger?"

To her increasing exasperation and annoyance, the insufferable, arrogant man only looked more amused by her overt hostility, his dark eyes glittering with undisguised interest and desire.

"Because this total stranger happens to be an expert in fine wines," he countered smoothly, his voice rich like velvet. "And I want a beautiful woman such as yourself to enjoy the finer things life has to offer."

He raised his glass again in an infuriatingly casual gesture, the very picture of roguish charm and attractiveness. And damnit, he did look sinfully good in that tailored dress shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up.

Ava blinked, forcibly steering her thoughts away from anything resembling physical attraction. She was not about to let this arrogant playboy worm his way under her skin, no matter how skilled he was at doling out cheesy compliments and flirtatious banter.

"Well, then, wine expert," she said, taking an overly pointed sip from her glass to feign nonchalance. "If I'm supposed to be enjoying the absolute finer things, why order me a glass from over twenty years ago? Wouldn't a younger vintage be preferable?"

She couldn't hide a satisfied smirk as her deliberate slight seemed to finally get under the charming stranger's skin and strike a nerve.

Liam's easy smile faltered ever so slightly as he leaned back, giving her an appraising look that slowly traveled from her eyes down to her lips and back. "You know your wines. Impressive for such a beautiful woman."

"I know a lot about plenty of things," Ava countered, unable to resist needling him further. "Including how to deftly avoid being cornered by strangers with over-inflated egos."

She expected him to fire back with another cheesy, overconfident pickup line in a pathetic attempt to hit on her and stroke his own ego. But instead, Liam let out a startlingly genuine bark of laughter that made the hairs on the back of Ava's neck prickle.

"Fair enough," he conceded with a roguish grin and a bemused shrug of acceptance. "How about we ditch the cheesy lines and start over from the top, then?"

Ava faltered, caught off guard by his unexpected change of tact and willingness to roll with her jabs. Most guys would sulk away in defeated embarrassment after just a few well-aimed verbal sparrings of her patented brush-off routine.

This confident stranger, however, seemed to relish the repartee and snarky back-and-forth, regarding her with undisguised interest and amusement rather than wounded ego.

"I'm Liam," he began again, extending his hand with an inviting, roguish smile. "And you are...?"

Ava eyed his proffered hand skeptically for a long moment before slowly setting her wineglass down with a resigned sigh.

"Ava," she said, at last, sliding her palm tentatively against his in a handshake. His grip was warm, calloused from work, and unflinchingly confident. "Ava Taylor."

"Enchantée, Ava Taylor, "Liam purred, his smile brightening and crinkling the corners of those roguish bedroom eyes. He seemed to relish the taste of her name on his lips, like a deliciously private joke or innuendo just for the two of them.

A startling jolt of awareness prickled along Ava's spine, unwanted and unsettling in its potency. She quickly extricated her hand, refocusing on the reassuringly crisp citrus flavors of her wine to steady her rogue impulses.

This was precisely the sort of reckless situation she knew better than to entertain, an outrageously handsome charmer determined to knock her off-kilter with his easy grins and looks. Reputations and careers were too easily tarnished that way, especially for women in her elite corporate world.

So why, then, did she find this stranger's audacious tenacity so undeniably intriguing against her better judgment?

"Not the typical wine bar crowd, I'd wager," Liam mused aloud, dragging her from her hazardous thoughts. "What brings a refined beauty like yourself out on a weeknight?"

The probing personal question immediately put Ava on guard, her chin lifting defensively. So he thought he could smooth-talk his way into her private affairs and life story, did he?

But something in Liam's casual poise and that carefully constructed facade of easy charm gave her pause. Those seemingly laid-back, carefree airs were merely a veneer concealing something much more underneath, she suspected one that hid far more about this mysterious stranger than he let on.

A delicious fluttering of recklessness started in her chest, inflaming her simmering interest in this intriguing man against all her better instincts. In that heated moment, Ava made a split second decision.

She was going to call his bluff and cut through the bullshit.

"Let's just say between my overbearing mother and thankless career, I needed a break from reality for once," she countered, deliberately vague to gauge his reaction.

"I take it your love life leaves something to be desired then?" he asked with that same intense interest flickering in his dark eyes.

"More like my love life simply doesn't exist," Ava corrected flatly, allowing a hint of hard-earned bitterness to sharpen her tone. "I have far too many career ambitions and bigger priorities to waste time chasing silly romantic fantasies and fairytales anymore."

To her surprise, Liam didn't immediately launch into the usual misguided attempt to convince her otherwise or try to change her mind, as nearly every other man inevitably did when confronted by her patented brand of cynical jadedness about romance and love.

Instead, he simply tipped his wineglass in a thoughtful concession, allowing a contemplative silence to fall between them as he mulled over her words.

Ava shifted a bit uncomfortably under his silent regard, finding his lack of usual pushback and objectification almost more unsettling than his initial cheesy overtures had been. Perhaps she had badly misjudged this stranger's true character – he clearly possessed hidden layers and depth she hadn't anticipated.

At last, Liam let out a soft hum, fixing her with those dark, unfathomable eyes that abruptly seemed to glimmer with jaded wisdom and a hint of bitterness all his own.

"You're absolutely right, the romantic fairytale is overrated from where I'm sitting," he murmured, "Why endlessly pursue silly fantasies about true love when you can simply take exactly what you want from life instead?"

Ava's breath hitched softly at his surprisingly philosophical words, at the fleeting glimpse of a cynical yet intense edge that seemed to burn beneath Liam's casually indifferent veneer.

"Oops, it is late I need to go," Liam stated after checking his wristwatch. He took his last sip and dropped his glass on the table, "we talk some other time," he stated.

Ava was dumbfounded for a while not knowing what to respond with, wondering who this mysterious Liam of a guy was as he watched him leave not only then did she realize he didn't pay for his drink.

"Fuck!!" she spat, she has been outsmarted.