Stitches in Time (6 page)

He grinned and the devil was in his eyes. “No doubt you would have, Ms. Andrews, no doubt you would have. But now I have visual proof that there’s a passionate heart that beats behind those tailored suits.” His grin grew wider. “I, however, do not have to worry about what to wear to bed…” Liam stripped off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. His naked chest glimmered just as Maggie always thought it would; a gorgeous, muscular torso faintly covered with soft dark hair that glimmered in the soft light of the hotel room. Her sudden intake of breath was audible in the quiet room.

To cover her reaction, Maggie feigned shock. “Well, you’re not sleeping in the nude tonight! I’m tempted to make you sleep in the tub.” She had been, too, but had discarded the idea as childish and immature. They were two grown adults stuck in an uncomfortable situation, and she didn’t need to get all melodramatic about it. But she had known she wouldn’t make it to the bed without some comment from him about her sleepwear. What she hadn’t been ready for was his complete appreciation for her appearance. Despite her intent to keep her distance from him, his obvious enjoyment of her teddy gave her a very warm feeling inside.
A feeling that resided way too low for her own comfort.

“That’s it lad, bed her!”

Through gritted teeth, only the little man heard Liam’s murmured, “Shut up.” Bending to pull down the covers on his side of the bed, Liam lowered just enough of the blankets to give him a better glimpse of her shapely thighs. But Maggie’s hand slammed down and his view was cut off again.

Irritated at the leprechaun and aroused by Maggie’s body, Liam straightened to take off his pants. With a tug, he pulled at his snagged belt, making it snap as it came out of the belt loops. The sound cracked through the air and Liam snapped it again, glaring at the little man in the tapestry. His meaning was clear. Seamus shrugged and perched on top of his rock.

At the first snap of his belt, Maggie jumped, but then realized it was unintentional. At the second snap, the warm feeling between her legs gushed with arousal and a sudden fear. Did he intend to use that on her?

Maggie was no virgin, but she hadn’t had a lover since she entered the family business. Now she could not deny the excitement she suddenly felt in Liam’s presence. Did he intend to have his way with her?

But Liam wasn’t looking at
her,
he was looking at that blasted piece of cloth. She sighed as he dropped the belt on the floor and unzipped his pants.

Liam looked up at the sound of her sigh. Her lips were parted and there was a yearning expression on her face as her eyes rested on his crotch. But then she noticed his glance and turned away fussing with the blankets. Damn the woman, just what did she want from him?

He slid his pants down and kicked them into the corner beside his shirt. Not usually a slob, tonight he just didn’t care. Between the long flight, the shopping, the successful business dealings, a talking leprechaun and a woman who didn’t know if she wanted to be fire or ice, his head ached. At least he wouldn’t be embarrassed by his underwear; plain, old, plaid boxers.

Sliding into the bed, he turned his back to her and pulled the little chain that turned off the light. In the sudden darkness, he squirmed down into the bed and rolled so his back was to Maggie. He could feel the warmth of her body and knew that if he faced her, he would breathe in her sweet scent. Traces of it wafted to his nose and his cock twitched again. He buried his head in his pillow and tried to think about cold things.

Maggie didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. His look told her he liked what he saw; his body language now indicated he wasn’t really interested in her. She knew she should be grateful. Why, then, was she so disappointed? Sliding down under the covers, she was careful not to touch his body with any part of hers. The queen size bed meant it was possible for two to sleep without touching, but only if both slept on the outer rim of the mattress; a place Maggie was not used to sleeping. Still, she pulled the blankets to her ears and lay on her side with her back to the man who didn’t want any part of her.

Maggie knew the reputation for cold professionalism she had in the company. But it was important that everyone respect her. She didn’t have all the degrees they did; while most in the company studied business and marketing, she spent her time in the arts. Now suddenly thrown in with the wolves, her tough hide was all that got her through some days.

But tonight the cracks in that hide threatened to break open. The long flight, the disappointment in the shop—only to find out Liam had bought the stupid thing just for her, then forced to share a room with him, sitting on the sidelines while he wined and dined the client and made the deal, his obvious appreciation for her body yet lack of desire for her, all piled up on her, pushing her thoughts inward.
Inside, where she was lonely and afraid.
Her drive to be what her father wanted left her little time for friends or lovers and she spent most of her days afraid the others would discover what a fraud she was in doing her job. A tear trickled from the side of her eye to wet the hotel pillow.

“Ah, the
lass is
cryin
’. Go on, boy, take her in
yer
arms and tell her it’ll be all right.”

“You’ve gotten me in enough trouble tonight. Go away.” Liam’s quiet whisper could barely be heard.

“But ye need me help, me boy-o. Can’t ye see the
lass is
ripe?”

“I said, go away.” Liam reached up and took the box off the dresser. In the dim light that leaked in through the window, Liam saw the little man sitting cross-legged on his rock. “If I wanted to make love to the woman, I wouldn’t need your advice.”

“What?” Maggie surreptitiously wiped her eyes and peered over her shoulder.

“What?” Liam echoed, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I thought you said something.”

“No, not me.
Just putting the tapestry away, that’s all.” Liam set the box on the floor and slid under the covers again.

“Oh.”

The word was flat and lifeless and pierced like a dagger through Liam’s heart. The leprechaun was right; Maggie was hurting. But the
devil take
him if he knew why. Rolling onto his back, he tried to make things right between them.

“Maggie, look. I know you don’t like me and you’re mad because I bought the tapestry when you couldn’t afford it. I’m sorry your father’s not paying you what you deserve, but I just wanted to do something nice for you.
As a friend.”

“No, man!
As a lover, not a friend! Tell her that her lips are as soft as the budding rose bloom, or that her hair intoxicates you with its satiny shimmer, but don’t tell her you only want her as a friend!”

Liam’s long arm reached down and shoved the box under the bed.

The strain of keeping the mask in place required too much energy. She sighed as she rolled over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “Thank you, Liam. I’m sorry I got angry with you. It’s just that little scrap of cloth represents so much of what I can’t have. It’s hard to look at it and know my responsibilities will always keep me from doing what I love.”

“And what do you love, Maggie Andrews?” His voice was soft.

In the darkness of the room, Maggie’s energy gave out; her mask slid off and the pent-up words tumbled out. “I love finding the piece of art that needs just a touch of restoration to bring it to life once again. Whether it is rare or common, it doesn’t matter. To know that I have the skill to restore it to its former glory and give it a new life in our world; to see a piece I’ve spent hours, days, months uncovering, researching, painstakingly put back together and on display in a museum or gallery for others to see. That’s what I love. Knowing that two of us—the talents of the original artist combined with my skills in restoration—produce an entirely recreated piece that shines for a new generation to appreciate.”

Liam didn’t need a light on to know her eyes shone with passion. This was what the woman had been trained to do; this was what she should be doing. Much as he appreciated her father’s business sense, he now doubted the man’s parenting skills. The woman’s soul wasn’t interested in the bottom line; her soul was tied to the glories of ancient art.

“Then why do you work for your father, woman? Why don’t you follow your heart?” He knew the answer even as he asked the question, but needed to hear how Maggie saw it.

She was just so tired. Tired of hiding her real personality under a thick wall of professionalism; tired of working for her father’s dream instead of her own; tired of not having a friend. Maybe it was the Irish moonlight, maybe it was her own exhaustion, but Maggie found herself answering.

“Because he is my father.
He built that company from scratch. He missed so many family gatherings, so many birthdays, because he was working so hard to make a go of it. Thomas…” Her voice cracked and she paused. Swallowing hard, she took a deep breath to steady herself. The scent of Liam’s aftershave filled her nose and desperately she grabbed onto the shreds of her control.

“But Tom died.” Liam prompted her. “And you still grieve for him by trying to do his job.”

The shreds slipped between her fingers and tears slid from the corners of her eyes. Not trusting her voice, she nodded in the darkness.

“A job you don’t really want, do you, Maggie?”

His voice was kind, soft and understanding, gentle. A small sob escaped and she clapped her fingers to her mouth, trying to stuff everything back inside again. But his arm slipped behind her neck and for the first time in her adult life, Maggie cried on another person’s shoulder.

She could not hold back the sobs. She cried for her brother’s wasted life, and she cried for her lost dreams. She cried for her own inadequacies and for the fact that she couldn’t afford the tapestry. Her sobs came from the very depths of her soul and all Liam could do was hold her as her grief and sorrow poured out.

“Ach, the poor lass.
She’s been
shuttin
’ that in for a long, long time.” Seamus’ voice floated up and Liam nodded, knowing that somehow, the leprechaun could see him.

“Just hold her, lad. That’s all she needs; a good, strong shoulder to cry on.”

“Don’t suppose you could get me some of those tissues?” Liam’s voice was quiet and he pointed in the general direction of the tissue box on the dresser.

“Sure, boy-o. Here ye go.”

Liam felt the outline of the box suddenly under his fingers. Deciding this was not the time to worry about the little man’s magic, he pulled out several tissues. Maggie’s hands lay limply against his chest, and he pushed a tissue between her fingers. As if on automatic, she began to wipe her eyes, taking deep breaths as her tears passed.

“How long have you been holding that in?” Liam brushed a stray lock of auburn hair from her face.

Maggie struggled to sit up. She couldn’t breathe lying down after a cry like that. He helped her upright and she looked over at his dim figure and shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t cry like this at his funeral.” She sighed. “Look, Liam, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day and I didn’t mean to impose on you like that.”

Liam frowned; she was putting up her barriers again. “It wasn’t an imposition, Maggie. If you don’t take care of emotions, they tend to blow up on you when you least expect it. It’s all right.” He knew her eyes would be swollen and red from her tears and he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t want those walls to go back up. “You are a passionate woman, Maggie, who has denied herself, her real self, for far too long.” He leaned in, his cheek brushing along hers to revel in her sweet perfume.

Maggie swayed; her eyes closing as his lips softly caressed her cheek. She turned her face toward him, seeking those lips, wanting to drown her sorrows in his kiss. And when they met, a small whimper sounded from the back of her throat, moved by the gentleness and understanding in his touch.

The salty remains of her tears sank into Liam’s consciousness. He shouldn’t be doing this. She was vulnerable; it was wrong to take a woman when her
defenses
had collapsed. But her scent filled his being and when she opened her lips, inviting him deeper into the kiss, he decided to be sorry about it later. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting her deeply, entwining around her tongue as he felt her arms go around his neck.

Maggie knew exactly what she was doing as she threw away her mask. Screw the company, screw her reputation,
screw
it all. She was tired of carrying the weight of her father’s will. Tonight, she wanted only one thing, and she knew Liam would willingly give it to her. The morning was soon enough to pick up her burden and put Liam back in his place. Tonight, she just wanted him to make love to her.

The taste of her tongue ignited the pilot light that had been burning in his belly since the day they met. He took her mouth, possessed it, felt her give it up to him; his cock grew heavy in response. The blood pumped its way through the veins that surrounded it, fed it life as Liam pulled Maggie closer.

His hand traced along her shoulder, pushing the thin strap of the baby doll down her arm. Not letting go of his kiss, she gracefully extricated her elbow from the strap and moaned as his fingers ran over the thin fabric covering her breasts. He cupped her breast through the fabric, his fingers lingering on her nipple, teasing it into hardness. Gently he squeezed the tiny bud until he heard her gasp of pleasure.