[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
buttoned the last button, Liam sang the last line of the song and made his entrance.
“Irish eyes are smiling, Sure ‘n, they steal your heart away.” He grinned to see her
in his shirt. “Mornin’, Maggie!”
“Good morning, Mr. Finnerty.” She gathered up the clothes she would need for the
day while trying to ignore the fact that Liam wore only a towel around his waist.
“Oh, we’re back to that, are we?”
His amused smile did nothing to sway her mind. She was determined to put the
feelings he stirred in her back into the box where they belonged. She had a job to do.
“Yes, Mr. Finnerty, we are back to that. We never should have left in the first
place.”
51
Diana Hunter
“Oh, lad, she’s a handful! Go on, kiss ‘er! Let her know who’s the boss here.”
Liam reached down and scooped up the box from under the bed, giving Seamus a
warning glance. For answer the little leprechaun just pointed toward Maggie and made
kissing noises.
In disgust, he dropped the box onto the bed and the frame rattled against the
cardboard.
“Be careful of that!” Maggie’s two steps brought her to the side of the bed. She
picked up the frame and turned it over, clucking in dismay as she did so. “Look, it
wasn’t even mounted properly. There’s been a lot of fraying on this piece since it was
separated. See? Look here.”
Liam bent in close to see where she was pointing. Her formality was still in place,
but when she spoke about the little piece of fabric, her tone was softer. His hand slipped
around her waist and he felt her stiffen, although she did not move away. She couldn’t.
He’d left her no room.
The casual familiarity of Liam’s hand on her waist threatened to melt her resolve.
Frowning, Maggie tried to move around him, but he had her trapped in a tiny space.
Pinned between the dresser, the bed and his body, the sudden closeness made her
heartbeat race and her cheeks colored to a pretty rose-pink as her flustering attempts to
get around him failed.
“Maggie,” Liam whispered softly into her ear. She was so sexy wearing his shirt,
with her long, slender legs now pinned between his much larger, much stronger thighs.
The sight of her—still mussed from sleep, flustered, obviously aroused—stirred his cock
beneath the thin hotel towel.
The tapestry frame pressed against his chest where she held it between them; giving
it a gentle tug, he pulled it from her fingers and set it on the bed. Face down. Not that
he thought that would stop Seamus, but Liam hoped it would at least mute the
leprechaun’s voice.
52
Stitches in Time
Maggie’s fingers were nerveless. Liam’s eyes did not leave hers. He smelled so
clean, of soap and shaving cream and toothpaste; she still wore their combined scents
from last night’s lovemaking. One of his hands still rested on her waist, with the other,
Liam now reached for her top button.
God help her, but she wanted this. All her resolutions to put him in his place
dissipated in the heat of his touch. The man was a masterful lover and Maggie found
she didn’t want to say no.
But she had to. She had already sullied her reputation with Liam—now was the
time to repair the damage before things got out of hand. Gritting her teeth, she
maneuvered her knee so that it just touched his hardening cock.
“Mr. Finnerty, back away now.”
Liam saw the change in her eyes just seconds before he felt her knee in position. He
could easily outmaneuver her; by physical strength alone, if necessary. He knew he
would lose her forever if he did. Dropping his hands to his side, he stepped back.
“Maggie, you cannot deny what we did last night.”
“I do not intend to. It was a mistake. I was vulnerable and you took advantage of
that. I will not be so little-girlish as to confide in you again.”
“Little-girlish? Maggie, you were no little girl last night. I saw the real you. The one
you bury under those tailored suits and that tight bun—just like an old spinster. Is that
what you want, Maggie Andrews? Tell me the truth—is that what you want? To be the
spinster head of a company you hate?”
“I don’t hate my father’s company!”
“You hate working there, admit it. Maggie, you have the soul of an artist; I see the
way you look at that scrap of fabric. That piece of tapestry means nothing to me but that
it touches your heart. When you look at it, I get glimpses of the passionate woman I
made love to last night.”
53
Diana Hunter
She wanted to lie to him, to tell him he was wrong—she loved her work and would
be very happy to be married to the company. Unbidden, an image floated in her mind:
herself ten years from now, sitting in her father’s chair, unsmiling, controlled,
professional, alone. A spinster. Spinning on her heel so he would not read the truth in
her face, she turned her back to him.
On the bed, face down, lay the tiny tapestry scrap that started it all. That blasted
thing had been the catalyst that spiraled her out of control last night and threatened to
do so again. What was it about that little leprechaun that moved her heart so? Her heart
full, she picked it up and turned it over, once again running her finger along the edges,
drinking in its every detail.
Liam knew Maggie could not see the thumbs up sign the little man gave him, but
with a frown, he hushed Seamus anyway. Maggie stood on the cusp of a great decision,
although Liam doubted she knew it yet. He did not want to disturb the thoughts he had
set in motion.
How had the ancient weaver managed to find colors so vibrant? Who was she?
Where had this piece come from? Questions swirled around Maggie’s brain as she
considered the mystery. Liam, of course, was right. For two years she pretended she
loved the company, loved the idea of taking over, while fighting the panic that she
wasn’t good enough. And she wasn’t. She never would be. The realization felt like a
dagger of betrayal through her heart.
“You remind me of things I left in my past, Mr. Finnerty. My father counts on me;
he has always built the company so that he might someday turn it over to his own son.
Or daughter. I cannot spend my life wishing Tom back to life. I can only make the best
of what I have. To turn my back on my father is not an option.”
The words were bitter in her mouth. Setting the tapestry onto the bed, her finger
trailed along the edge one last time before she turned away.
“Maggie…” Liam tried to stop her as she stepped toward the bathroom.
“Grab her, man! Don’t just stand there like some bloody doormat!”
54
Stitches in Time
In desperation, Liam followed Seamus’ advice. Taking a step to block the door, he
grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from running away.
“Maggie, you have to get rid of your martyr complex. You don’t owe this to your
father—and he has no right to ask it of you. I remember how surprised he was when
you came to him after Tom’s funeral and told him you’d like to learn how to lead. He
didn’t expect it of you, then.”
“But he does now.”
“Yes, because your act has convinced him you love what you’re doing. But a blind
man can see you hate it.”
“I fooled you. Until that blasted tapestry showed up.”
“Well, you have me there. I was convinced you were just a tight-ass with no
personality.”
Liam knew the words hurt her, but he didn’t back down. He had fallen in love with [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl wyciskamy.pev.pl
buttoned the last button, Liam sang the last line of the song and made his entrance.
“Irish eyes are smiling, Sure ‘n, they steal your heart away.” He grinned to see her
in his shirt. “Mornin’, Maggie!”
“Good morning, Mr. Finnerty.” She gathered up the clothes she would need for the
day while trying to ignore the fact that Liam wore only a towel around his waist.
“Oh, we’re back to that, are we?”
His amused smile did nothing to sway her mind. She was determined to put the
feelings he stirred in her back into the box where they belonged. She had a job to do.
“Yes, Mr. Finnerty, we are back to that. We never should have left in the first
place.”
51
Diana Hunter
“Oh, lad, she’s a handful! Go on, kiss ‘er! Let her know who’s the boss here.”
Liam reached down and scooped up the box from under the bed, giving Seamus a
warning glance. For answer the little leprechaun just pointed toward Maggie and made
kissing noises.
In disgust, he dropped the box onto the bed and the frame rattled against the
cardboard.
“Be careful of that!” Maggie’s two steps brought her to the side of the bed. She
picked up the frame and turned it over, clucking in dismay as she did so. “Look, it
wasn’t even mounted properly. There’s been a lot of fraying on this piece since it was
separated. See? Look here.”
Liam bent in close to see where she was pointing. Her formality was still in place,
but when she spoke about the little piece of fabric, her tone was softer. His hand slipped
around her waist and he felt her stiffen, although she did not move away. She couldn’t.
He’d left her no room.
The casual familiarity of Liam’s hand on her waist threatened to melt her resolve.
Frowning, Maggie tried to move around him, but he had her trapped in a tiny space.
Pinned between the dresser, the bed and his body, the sudden closeness made her
heartbeat race and her cheeks colored to a pretty rose-pink as her flustering attempts to
get around him failed.
“Maggie,” Liam whispered softly into her ear. She was so sexy wearing his shirt,
with her long, slender legs now pinned between his much larger, much stronger thighs.
The sight of her—still mussed from sleep, flustered, obviously aroused—stirred his cock
beneath the thin hotel towel.
The tapestry frame pressed against his chest where she held it between them; giving
it a gentle tug, he pulled it from her fingers and set it on the bed. Face down. Not that
he thought that would stop Seamus, but Liam hoped it would at least mute the
leprechaun’s voice.
52
Stitches in Time
Maggie’s fingers were nerveless. Liam’s eyes did not leave hers. He smelled so
clean, of soap and shaving cream and toothpaste; she still wore their combined scents
from last night’s lovemaking. One of his hands still rested on her waist, with the other,
Liam now reached for her top button.
God help her, but she wanted this. All her resolutions to put him in his place
dissipated in the heat of his touch. The man was a masterful lover and Maggie found
she didn’t want to say no.
But she had to. She had already sullied her reputation with Liam—now was the
time to repair the damage before things got out of hand. Gritting her teeth, she
maneuvered her knee so that it just touched his hardening cock.
“Mr. Finnerty, back away now.”
Liam saw the change in her eyes just seconds before he felt her knee in position. He
could easily outmaneuver her; by physical strength alone, if necessary. He knew he
would lose her forever if he did. Dropping his hands to his side, he stepped back.
“Maggie, you cannot deny what we did last night.”
“I do not intend to. It was a mistake. I was vulnerable and you took advantage of
that. I will not be so little-girlish as to confide in you again.”
“Little-girlish? Maggie, you were no little girl last night. I saw the real you. The one
you bury under those tailored suits and that tight bun—just like an old spinster. Is that
what you want, Maggie Andrews? Tell me the truth—is that what you want? To be the
spinster head of a company you hate?”
“I don’t hate my father’s company!”
“You hate working there, admit it. Maggie, you have the soul of an artist; I see the
way you look at that scrap of fabric. That piece of tapestry means nothing to me but that
it touches your heart. When you look at it, I get glimpses of the passionate woman I
made love to last night.”
53
Diana Hunter
She wanted to lie to him, to tell him he was wrong—she loved her work and would
be very happy to be married to the company. Unbidden, an image floated in her mind:
herself ten years from now, sitting in her father’s chair, unsmiling, controlled,
professional, alone. A spinster. Spinning on her heel so he would not read the truth in
her face, she turned her back to him.
On the bed, face down, lay the tiny tapestry scrap that started it all. That blasted
thing had been the catalyst that spiraled her out of control last night and threatened to
do so again. What was it about that little leprechaun that moved her heart so? Her heart
full, she picked it up and turned it over, once again running her finger along the edges,
drinking in its every detail.
Liam knew Maggie could not see the thumbs up sign the little man gave him, but
with a frown, he hushed Seamus anyway. Maggie stood on the cusp of a great decision,
although Liam doubted she knew it yet. He did not want to disturb the thoughts he had
set in motion.
How had the ancient weaver managed to find colors so vibrant? Who was she?
Where had this piece come from? Questions swirled around Maggie’s brain as she
considered the mystery. Liam, of course, was right. For two years she pretended she
loved the company, loved the idea of taking over, while fighting the panic that she
wasn’t good enough. And she wasn’t. She never would be. The realization felt like a
dagger of betrayal through her heart.
“You remind me of things I left in my past, Mr. Finnerty. My father counts on me;
he has always built the company so that he might someday turn it over to his own son.
Or daughter. I cannot spend my life wishing Tom back to life. I can only make the best
of what I have. To turn my back on my father is not an option.”
The words were bitter in her mouth. Setting the tapestry onto the bed, her finger
trailed along the edge one last time before she turned away.
“Maggie…” Liam tried to stop her as she stepped toward the bathroom.
“Grab her, man! Don’t just stand there like some bloody doormat!”
54
Stitches in Time
In desperation, Liam followed Seamus’ advice. Taking a step to block the door, he
grabbed her shoulders to prevent her from running away.
“Maggie, you have to get rid of your martyr complex. You don’t owe this to your
father—and he has no right to ask it of you. I remember how surprised he was when
you came to him after Tom’s funeral and told him you’d like to learn how to lead. He
didn’t expect it of you, then.”
“But he does now.”
“Yes, because your act has convinced him you love what you’re doing. But a blind
man can see you hate it.”
“I fooled you. Until that blasted tapestry showed up.”
“Well, you have me there. I was convinced you were just a tight-ass with no
personality.”
Liam knew the words hurt her, but he didn’t back down. He had fallen in love with [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]