Kate Hoffmann - Liam

“The Globe called this morning. It’s a nice assignment.” His lips found the curve of her neck and lingered there for a moment.

“I have to type up a few more letters and send out some résumés,” Ellie said. “And I’m going over to the library to get online. I thought I’d post my résumé with a few of the sites on the Web.”

“How’s the job hunt going?” Liam asked.

“Not great. I’ve hit all the major banks in Boston and now I’m going to have to start on the minor ones. I’ve had four years in banking but maybe I should consider a change. I could get my C.P.A. and work for an accounting firm. Or maybe find a position with a small business.”

“You’ll find something,” Liam said, reaching out to smooth his hand along her cheek. “You’re smart and you’re capable and you’re awfully pretty to look at.”

“And if you kiss me again, I promise to believe that,” Ellie murmured.

He did as he was told, then grabbed his jacket and bid her goodbye, promising to call her later that evening. Ellie closed the door behind him and smiled. She touched her lips, still damp from his kiss, then tried to remember exactly how wonderful it felt. Later on, she could summon that memory and relish it all over again.

It felt good to be kissed again. And touched and held. Though she’d tried so hard to resist him, Ellie had known going in that she’d once again be putting her heart at risk. And now that feeling was even more acute. She was falling hard and fast for Liam Quinn and she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that made him so irresistible, but he had a certain charm that she found incredibly attractive. He always knew just the right thing to say, yet he never tried too hard. There were moments when she felt as if he was madly in love with her and then other times when he’d pull away and keep her guessing. It was like a little dance between them, each advancing and retreating at different times, trying to read the subtleties in every word and action.

She’d come to Boston to get away from her rather disastrous history with men. And then, against all odds, she’d stumbled across the man who very well could be the man of her dreams. Ellie hurried over to her bookshelf and ran her fingers along the rows of books until she found what she wanted. “Find the Man of Your Dreams,” she said, pulling out a volume she’d purchased three years ago.

She settled down on the sofa, tucking her feet up underneath her. Now that she’d found him, Ellie would have to figure out how to keep him. Maybe the book would have some good advice.

THE IMAGE appeared slowly, the grays intensifying as Liam swirled the photo around in the developer. This was the best part of photography, he mused. That moment of anticipation, waiting to see what the camera had captured.

He’d shut himself in the darkroom that occupied the spare bedroom in the apartment, ready to catch up on some film he’d taken a few weeks before. After all, there wasn’t much he could do once Ellie went to sleep. She was safe inside her apartment, the security system set to warn her of any intruders. But instead of grabbing the film he’d taken of children playing on Boston Common, he’d grabbed the roll he’d taken that first night in the attic.

An outline of a figure appeared first on the photo paper and then more and more detail. “Come on, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Show yourself.” He’d taken the photo that first night and until now hadn’t thought about developing it. But after a week of Ellie, the curiosity had been too much to resist.

He pulled the photo out of the developer and slipped it into the stop bath, then sat on a stool and stared at the image. Lord, she was beautiful. He’d caught her in a moment when she’d been completely vulnerable, her hair tousled around her face, her incredible body draped in a silk robe, the fabric falling over delicious curves, her head turned slightly to the side.

His gaze focused on her mouth as he moved the photo to the fixer fluid. The memory of their kiss flooded his brain, the feel of her lips beneath his, and the taste of her, warm and sweet. Need snaked through his body, from his brain to his gut, and Liam groaned softly. Hell, he hadn’t wanted to kiss her. In truth, he’d been fighting it for all he was worth. But Liam had never been a guy to ignore his instincts and Ellie’s mouth had been just too tempting to resist.

He tried to rationalize his attraction to her and the only thing he could come up with was that she was forbidden fruit. The fact that he shouldn’t want her made her even more impossible to resist. And then there was that photo Sean had shown him, the prim and proper banker. He’d seen the other side and Liam suspected that there was a very passionate woman hidden beneath the accountant exterior.

“This has got to stop,” Liam muttered, rubbing a knot of tension from the back of his neck. Ellie Thorpe was a dangerous woman to want. Besides, this was just a job. And the kiss they’d shared had been part of the job, a ploy to get her to trust him and to confide in him.

A knock sounded on the door of the darkroom. His brother wasn’t supposed to be home for another day or two. “Sean?” he called.

“It’s Brian. I’m looking for Sean.”

Liam sighed and dropped the photo in the water bath. “He’s out of town. Hartford, I think. On a case.”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Liam called. “It’s all right.”

Liam pulled the door open. As always, Brian was immaculately dressed. A well-tailored wardrobe had become part of his rising profile in Boston. Brian was the most popular investigative reporter at WBTN-TV. His face was plastered on billboards all around town and he could be seen every few nights on the eleven o’clock news, reporting on some scandal about to rock the city. Right now, with his tie draped around his neck and his collar unbuttoned, he’d obviously finished with work for the night.

“Jeez, you look like hell,” Brian commented.

“Thanks. Coming from a guy like you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Brian stepped into the glow of the red safelight that illuminated the darkroom. He looked around, like the reporter he was, always searching for something to pique his interest. “What do you need?” Liam asked.

Brian shrugged, the shoulders of his tailored suit rising then falling. “I’m working on a story. I needed Sean to track someone down for me.”

“He’s busy with a divorce case. I’m picking up the slack for him.”

“What are you working on?” Brian asked.

Liam glanced down at the photo of Ellie still swirling in the water. Brian followed his gaze. “Who is she?”

“No one.”

“She’s awfully pretty for no one. Let me guess. She’s too pretty to be the unhappy wife, so she must be the other woman.”

“Yeah, she is,” Liam lied. He pulled the photo out of the water and hung it on the line. “What are you doing out so late? It’s nearly one.”

“I’ve been working on a story. I find that people are much more likely to talk if I catch them after a long night of drinking. So I just follow my sources from bar to bar.”

Brian sat on a stool and slowly began to flip through a pile of Liam’s photos. He picked up one of a homeless man. “This is nice. Sometimes I work so hard to get a good piece of tape, a great sound bite, an interesting reaction. But it never seems as powerful as a single moment captured in a photo. This is real. It has impact.”

“What has you waxing philosophical?” Liam asked. “Let me guess. A woman?”

“I wish,” Brian said.

“The only other thing it could be is your career. I’ve been seeing your face on every bus in Boston. The career must be going well.”

“Nah. It’s not exactly going the way I planned. They want to put me behind the anchor desk. I’ve got a great Q-rating, men trust me, women like to look at me. I can do big things for the station. At least, that’s what they’re telling me.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I wouldn’t be reporting news,” Brian said, his voice passionate. “I’d be reading it. I’ve been thinking about quitting, maybe trying print journalism. My face won’t make a difference at a newspaper. Or I could freelance. There are a lot of magazines that publish investigative pieces.”

Brian had always been completely fixated when it came to work. “Come on, Brian. You have a regular job that pays well. Everyone in town knows you. You get great women, classy women, and you want to give it all up? Give me a break.”

“When you put it that way, it does sound a little screwy,” Brian murmured.

Liam strode out of the darkroom and Brian followed him. Though his brother obviously wanted to discuss his problems in greater detail, Liam really wasn’t in the mood. He had enough troubles of his own. Unlike Brian, Liam never knew when his next paycheck would arrive. No one in town was interested in his photos. And the one woman he found attractive was probably a felon.

“I gotta go,” Liam murmured.

“You going over to the pub?”

“No, I’ve got somewhere else I have to be,” Liam replied.

“When is Sean getting back?” Brian called.

“I don’t know. I’m not his secretary. Sean has his cell phone with him. The number is on the refrigerator. Just lock up before you leave.”

Liam closed the door behind him and jogged down the steps, heading for his car. He wasn’t sure where he was going. He’d just drive, hoping to clear his head. He started the car and pulled away from the curve, heading into Boston. But when his thoughts kept returning to Ellie Thorpe, he opened the window and let the chill and damp of the early April night roar through the car. He drove out of South Boston and crossed the bridge into Chinatown, then at the last moment turned onto Atlantic Avenue, choosing a route along the Boston waterfront.

It wasn’t until he got to the Charlestown Bridge that Liam realized where he was headed. The bridge led right into the tangle of one-way streets in Charlestown. He made the circle on Main Street, determined to head over to Cambridge. But, in the end, Liam headed in the direction of Ellie’s apartment.

He pulled up across the street from her apartment building and parked the car. Leaning against the back of the seat, he stared up at the dark windows of her apartment, trying to imagine her inside, curled up in her bed, her dark hair spread across the pillow.

His hands clenched instinctively as he remembered the silken feel of her hair between his fingers. With a low curse, he shoved open the car door and stepped out. Liam paced the length of his car a few times, unwilling to climb the stairs to the attic simply to look through his lens at a dark apartment.

“Jeez, and I thought Brian was screwed up,” he muttered. He got back inside the car and started it, dragging in a deep breath as he put it into gear. Maybe Brian had the right idea. Quinn’s Pub would be open for at least another hour. Liam could do a lot of damage in that amount of time.

If a few pints of Guinness didn’t get rid of this preoccupation with Ellie Thorpe, then he’d have a few more.

LIAM STARED out the front windshield of his car, the view of the Charlestown neighborhood blurred by the drizzling rain. “I want out,” he murmured. “I don’t care about the money. Consider the work I’ve put in so far my gift to you.”

“You can’t,” Sean replied. “We’re too close. Sooner or later Pettibone has got to show up.”

“How do you know he hasn’t got the money?” Liam asked. “How do you know that he didn’t pull this off on his own?”

“You said it yourself. They were lovers. She admitted that much to you. Pettibone took that money and she has to be in on it. They’re playing it cool. Staying away from each other so they don’t arouse suspicion.”

“I don’t like this,” Liam said. “She seems like a nice person.”

“Some criminals are nice,” Sean said. “Embezzlers win over your trust, then they rob you blind. It’s part of the M.O.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to confront her? I could just ask her if she stole the money and watch her reaction. I read people pretty well and I’ll know if she’s lying.”

“And then what? She’s going to hand it over?” Sean laughed. “That’s a plan.”

“Maybe. Maybe she could make a deal and give the money back in exchange for them dropping all charges.”

“Li, what is your problem with this woman?”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Then just do the damn job,” Sean said. “It’s your watch, I’m going home.” He opened the car door and stepped out into the rain. At the last moment Sean braced his arms on the edge of the roof and leaned back inside. “Don’t screw this up. We’re close. Let’s just finish it.”

Sean slammed the door and Liam watched him jog to his car. He tipped his head back and sighed. This whole thing had gotten way out of hand. Though he was used to charming women, his main goal had always been a passionate night in bed followed by breakfast the next morning. Both parties were left well satisfied and nobody got hurt.