~ Look Into Your Heart ~

by

Tricia McGill

Two

Liam couldn’t believe it. Talk about an ugly duckling turning into a swan. Her snub nose with its sprinkle of freckles was all that saved her face from perfection. The combination of auburn hair and tall lissom figure must attract men wherever she went, yet she was blushing like a schoolgirl, as if unused to male attention. Wide eyes were watching him with wariness at odds with the luscious fullness of her mouth. The dress she wore graced perfect curves, a slim waist, and full breasts.

The beauty she’d become stunned him. This truly magnificent creature, he surmised, was totally unaware of the effect she had on people. At a good five foot eight she was above average height and moved with the grace of a ballerina. And those large luminous eyes were something else.

Viola had told them on one of her visits that her sister’s looks had set many a male heart thumping. Liam had secretly scoffed at that--but now could see what she meant.

Liam backed off at the look that had come into her eyes, his inbuilt bachelor’s antennae going into action when she murmured, "Why, thank you," flashing him a brilliant smile that sent his libido into over-drive. "Viola was very sick, as you know, and this break will do her the world of good. I gave up my flat to stay with her, and she wouldn’t come without me." Her shoulders lifted in a shrug and the small movement entranced Liam. There was an innate grace about everything she did, be it moving a limb or a lip. "It was nice of you to invite her."

Liam grinned at that, not missing the way her eyes settled on his mouth. Could she be as stunned by her reaction to his every move as he was by hers? "I have had many epithets bestowed on me in my time, Katie, but nice has never been applied to me before."

Her mouth curved in a soft smile.

"It’s amazing, the difference between you and Viola. People must find it hard to believe that you’re sisters." Liam remembered hearing that from Viola.

Liam knew that Viola’s mother had died when she was eight and her father had remarried practically straight away. Four years later Katie was born. Apparently Viola’s mother had been tiny, but Katie had inherited her own mother’s height. Viola told them once that when Katie was ten they’d been the same height but then, as Katie shot up, she’d been her sister’s defender.

"You could say that." Her nose wrinkled charmingly. "When I was fourteen and fifteen, plump and gawky, I was very envious of her fragility."

"But when this miraculous metamorphosis of yours took place you could hardly have been envious then, Katie. You’ve grown into a very lovely woman," he drawled.

Her mouth moved, and his stomach did a somersault as she licked those inviting lips. For a moment she stared mutely at him.

"I could get to like these compliments," she said huskily.

"You’re not going to tell me you aren’t quite used to them. Many men must have admired you."

"Oh yes, many," she said with an enigmatic little smile.

"How’s Viola really coping without Charlie?" he asked, thinking it wise to change the subject.

Sadness clouded her eyes. "I think it’s getting better. I liked Charles. Although I must be honest and admit I resented him at first. But once I saw how he loved and cherished Viola I grew to respect him."

"He was a good man." Liam swallowed. His own grief still weighed heavily on his heart.

"Yes." She paused, as though realizing his distress. "Did you design this house?" Her beautiful eyes wandered over the kitchen. "It’s a lovely home."

Liam looked around, seeing it in a new light. "Do you really like it? I designed every detail down to the last brick. I guess it’s the materialization of a dream." He knew he sounded like a proud parent praising his favourite offspring, but couldn’t help it. "Do you still paint?"

Kate was astonished again. Her painting was something he’d ribbed her about, too. "Mmm, I still like working in watercolours. How about you? Still dabbling in oils?"

"Yes, I still paint." He jabbed a long finger in the air. "You can see my amateurish efforts filling the walls."

"Amateurish?" Kate chuckled. "Please don’t be falsely modest on my behalf."

He shrugged, grinning. "I have little spare time now, unfortunately. One has to pay for success, and in turn it gives one back monetary success." His sigh was exaggerated.

"Yes, it must be hard being rich as well as successful," she agreed.

His wink was mischievous. "Come, I’ll take you to my studio." He waved a hand for her to precede him from the kitchen.

Viola and Bart sat close together on the sofa, deep in conversation. They didn’t lift their heads as Kate and Liam passed on their way across the room. Kate had noticed a spiral staircase at one side of the patio that faced the rear garden and Liam now stood at the bottom, gesturing for her to go up.

Halfway up she almost tripped. Before she could grab the rail Liam steadied her with a warm hand on her arm and one on her waist. Once again, her reaction to his closeness stunned her and a tide of colour flooded her face as she tried to free herself. But he insisted on holding her steady until they reached the top. On the landing he flicked a switch, flooding the circular studio with light.

"Oh, it’s the turret. How lovely," she said, letting her eyes wander around the room.

"Like it?" he asked, jamming his hands in his trouser pockets.

"Yes. Very much." The top half of the walls was glass, the lower part taken up with canvasses leaning against the wall. Beams rose to a point high above them. Kate went to stand before a half finished seascape on an easel in the middle of the room. "How lucky you are." Going to one of the windowpanes she pressed her forehead on the glass. "And I’ll bet the view from here is wonderful."

"It is." He stood beside her and her heart thundered as she felt the heat coming off his body. "You’re more than welcome to come up here any time you wish as long as you’re staying here," he said softly. Kate smiled and he watched her mouth, his eyes taking on a strange glint. "I’m afraid I don’t get as much time as I’d like to paint these days, but feel free to use the studio." He returned her smile, his sensual lips softening. "We won’t get in each other’s way. But please don’t poke your nose into any of my things."

Kate nodded seriously, "You needn’t worry about that. I notice your studio is in immaculate order. I will try to keep it that way. Thank you for the offer."

Kate’s mouth went dry as he brushed a knuckle down her cheek, then took a tendril of her hair and twisted it around his finger. "I can’t believe how much you’ve changed," he murmured, pulling on the tress gently.

Had Kate’s limbs been capable of functioning she would have put some space between them. But her feet were stuck like limpets to the floor. His touch sent her heart off at an erratic beat.

When his hands framed her face she felt her world tilt. His thumbs brushed at the corners of her mouth before moving to remove the combs at the side of her head, sending her hair tumbling about her face. Mutely she stared at him.

"Did you consider me an ogre last time we met?" he asked.

"To be frank, yes." Kate cleared her throat when her voice came out husky. "You looked at me with such open contempt. I thought you a conceited fool. I was eager to learn and you dashed all my enthusiasm with your smart remarks about my artistic abilities--or lack of them as you saw it."

"Hmm. I was an egotistical bore, wasn’t I?"

"Yes, you were rather horrible." Kate snatched back her combs and refastened them in her hair. He made a small sound of repentance then played his fingers down her arms, closing them about her wrists.

This man was too overpowering by far. Kate swore beneath her breath when the corners of his eyes crinkled. The arrogant so and so was laughing at her.

"I wondered what that leggy blonde saw in you," she said sweetly, and an expression of pained indignation settled on the tough features. "What happened to her, by the way? I thought you were going to be married."

"Yes, well..." He shrugged carelessly. "I broke off the engagement. Have you ever heard that old proverb: A young man should not marry yet, an old man not at all? I heeded that advice. Don’t get me wrong, I love women. But as for marrying one, forget it!"

"Ah, at least we agree on something."

"We do?"

Kate nodded. "Truth is I’m not the marrying kind either."

"Great." He winked again, his mouth curving in a mischievous grin. "I think I should enlighten you about something. That conniving pair downstairs have picked you as a likely candidate to end my bachelorhood. Mark my words, they’ll pitchfork us together at every opportunity."

"Is that so?" Pretending a horror she was far from feeling, Kate gasped. The prospect of spending time in his company grew in attraction by the minute.

"How wonderful we’re of the same mind about preserving our single status. Now we can enjoy each other’s company and know exactly where we stand." There was a teasing light in his grey eyes.

Offering his hand, he turned to switch off the light, then preceded her down the spiral staircase.

~ * ~

Later, as Kate stood before the open window in her bedroom, she went over their conversation. The sigh of the sea whispered faintly on the cool breeze. It was a glorious night with a star spangled sky--the silvery radiance of the moon casting mysterious patterns across the room.

Going to flop on the bed, she sighed. Liam might be well in charge of the situation and know exactly where he stood, but she felt as confused as a child. There was something potentially dangerous about the way he’d played her along in Viola and Bart’s company, conveying to them that he knew what they were up to. And he had made it clear he would get every ounce of pleasure out of it as he saw fit--never mind what Kate’s feelings were.

That was the main problem--she had no idea exactly what her feelings were. When he’d touched his lips to her wrist before she’d come upstairs to bed she’d been unable to read the message in his eyes, but her heart had thumped and her nerves pulsated.

Here was a virile, handsome man, and cocksure into the bargain. She had come here expecting a cool reception, sure he’d forgotten her, yet he’d resurrected all her uncertainties. No man had come within a mile of arousing her senses as Liam did, and she’d convinced herself that she didn’t care. Her career had taken precedence. But her reaction to him astounded her.