Liam

3

“WOULD YOU LIKE another glass of wine?” Liam picked up the bottle and filled Ellie’s glass, not waiting for a reply. God, she was pretty when she was drunk. Her face was flushed and her eyes glittered with amusement and she kept leaning over the table, giving him a tempting view of her breasts beneath the low-cut neckline of her sweater.

“I really shouldn’t,” she said with a giggle. “Two glasses is my limit.”

Liam didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d reached her limit about three hours ago. The bottle was empty and Ellie Thorpe would probably wake up tomorrow morning with a raging hangover.

Usually, Liam was loath to take advantage of a woman who’d had too much to drink. But his mind wasn’t on sex tonight-not that he hadn’t thought about pulling Ellie to her feet and dragging her into the bedroom. There was something highly attractive about a woman who was completely unaware of her sexuality.

The way she smiled, the way she reached out and touched him every so often, the way she licked her lips after she took a sip of wine-all of it was driving him a little crazy. But Ellie was guileless, completely unaware of the effect she was having on him.

Liam watched as she stuck her finger into the frosting of the chocolate cake she’d served for dessert, then put her finger in her mouth. He couldn’t help but imagine what that mouth might do to him, how her lips might move over his body, how her tongue might taste. He swallowed hard. Maybe this would take more strength than he possessed. He knew enough about women to know that he could have Ellie tonight if he simply asked.

But Liam had to settle a few things before he took that step-if ever. Now that he had her good and drunk, he needed to get her talking. About her job at the bank. About Ronald Pettibone. And about the two hundred and fifty thousand that Sean suspected she’d stolen.

“So, tell me about your job in New York. Why would you leave an exciting city like that to come to Boston?” The question sounded innocuous enough, Liam thought.

“Oh, let’s not talk about New York!” Ellie replied. “Bad memories of a very bad man. Make that four or five bad men-I’ve lost count.”

“What about that guy on the sidewalk this morning?” Liam asked, unable to contain his curiosity. There had been something between them, something that hinted at a prior relationship. The more he’d thought about it, the more he’d wondered who the guy had been. He’d gotten a fairly decent look at him, but he didn’t resemble the photo of Pettibone. “Was he a bad man?”

Ellie groaned. “He was-or is-nobody.” Her frown quickly turned to a devilish smile. “Are the men better here in Boston? Please tell me they are.”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should tell me a little more about the men in New York.”

“Who do you want to know about? If I tell you, will you promise to drive to New York and beat them all up?”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll consider it. Why don’t you tell me about the man who made you decide to leave?”

“That was Ronald,” she said, crinkling her nose. “Ronald Pettibone. And, let me tell you, he didn’t have one petty bone in his body, he had about five hundred. God, I don’t know why I always pick the jerks-present company excluded.”

“What did Ron-”

“Ronald,” Ellie corrected.

“What did Ronald do?”

“He made me fall in love with him. And then he made me into something I never wanted to be. And then he dumped me. And then he had the nerve to ask me to return all the gifts he’d given me.”

Liam gazed across the table at her stricken expression. She sure didn’t look like a coldhearted criminal. But she did look like a woman who might do anything for love. And sometimes that kind of woman was more dangerous than a woman bent on a life of crime. “Any man who dumps you has got to be a little crazy.”

She smiled brightly, reached over and squeezed his hand. “That’s a nice thing to say. You’re a very nice guy. Have you ever been dumped?”

“A few times,” Liam lied.

“I have this really good book you should read.” She pushed out of her chair and turned toward the bookcase on the far wall. But the combination of the wine and the quick move caused her knees to buckle. Liam bolted out of his chair and caught her before she hit the floor.

“I think maybe we can leave the book for another time,” he murmured, pulling her against his body, his mouth just inches from hers. He could feel the warmth of her breath against his chin and he fought the impulse to capture her lips.

Ellie’s eyes fluttered shut and her head swayed from side to side. “Are we dancing?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and sighed. “Let’s dance.”

“Let’s not. I think we better get you to bed.”

“Okay. I’m a little drunk, though. I may not remember everything in the morning-but I know it will be good.”

“There won’t be anything to remember.” Liam bent and scooped her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her into her bedroom.

He set her gently on the bed. Ellie sighed softly, then curled into a little ball, her face pressed into his jacket. “You smell good,” she said.

Liam tugged his jacket from beneath her head and slipped it on. He then pulled her shoes off and drew the blanket up around her. As he smoothed a strand of hair from her face, he bent closer and brushed a kiss across her wine-stained lips. “Good night, princess. I’ll be watching out for you.” With that, Liam turned and walked to the door.

The street was dark and empty when he reached the sidewalk. He glanced both ways before crossing to his home away from home. Spending the night in Ellie’s bed would have been far more comfortable…and convenient. But Liam never seduced a woman who didn’t want to be seduced. And, right now, Ellie was in no condition to know what she really wanted.

Though he hadn’t gotten the answers he’d been looking for, he’d gotten more. He’d learned enough to know that Ellie Thorpe was incapable of deception or cunning or greed. She was a sweet, beautiful woman, a romantic with a silly streak, a sexy temptress with a little-girl laugh. And Liam knew that the kiss he’d given her wouldn’t be the last.

He took the steps up to the attic two at a time, pushed the door open and squinted into the dark, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

“I know where you’ve been.”

Liam jumped at the sound of the voice coming out of the darkness. He spun around to find Sean sitting on the old sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him, his hands locked behind his head.

“Jeez, you scared me!” Liam cried.

His brother pushed to his feet and strolled across the room to the window. He peered through the lens of Liam’s camera. “You weren’t here. I figured I’d do some surveillance. I saw a man in Eleanor Thorpe’s apartment and I thought Pettibone had arrived.”

Liam bit back a curse. “Did you snap some pictures?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“I did. But the guy in the apartment was you.”

Liam waited for Sean to rip him a new one, but the expected rant didn’t come. “All right, I made a mistake. But I was just taking advantage of an opportunity. This is mostly your fault.”

“My fault?”

“I’m not a P.I.,” Liam said. He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and twisted it open. “You can’t expect me to know all the rules. A few nights ago some guy broke into her apartment while I was watching her.”

“Did you get his photo?”

“No! I ran over to her place and caught the guy before he got to her. She thought I was the intruder and she hit me over the head, tied me up and called the police.”

“The police know about this?” This time Sean strung together a colorful variety of curse words.

“They don’t know about the stakeout,” Liam told him. “Conor smoothed things over. By the way, he wanted me to remind you about the baptism for Riley.”

“Don’t change the subject. This doesn’t explain what you were doing in her apartment tonight.”

“This morning, I stopped by the coffee shop a few blocks over and I ran into her. I guess the police gave her the whole story about how I saved her and how I’m a really good guy, so she asked me out to dinner and I had to accept.”

Sean raked his fingers through his hair impatiently. “What the hell were you thinking? You could have said no.” He shook his head. “Wait, you’re Liam Quinn. You don’t say no to women.”

“I was thinking it would be a helluva lot easier to watch her from inside her apartment, where there’s heat, I might add, than from up here. It’s freezing up here and there’s nothing to do. I’ve watched her apartment for three days now and nothing has happened.”

“A guy broke in.”

“Yeah, but maybe that was just a random crime.”

“Maybe it was Pettibone paying a midnight visit. Maybe she was expecting him, did you ever think of that? He won’t come back with you there.”

Liam held up his hand. “Maybe you should just take over here. I’ll get out of the way and you can do whatever it is you do.”

Sean thought about the option for a long moment, then shook his head. “Now that your cover is blown, you should keep seeing her.”

“You want me to date her?”

“See her. If that means a date, then fine, date her. The first chance you get, search her apartment.”

Liam frowned. “Isn’t that against the law?”

“Not exactly. If she invites you in and you open a few drawers, there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re not acting as an agent of the police.”

“Conor warned me to stay away from her. He kind of figured I was working on a case for you.”

“Good.”

“So what is it? Do you want me to continue seeing her or do you want me to stop?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, let me know when you do.” Liam walked back to the cooler and grabbed a ham sandwich. He’d spent so much time dragging Ellie into dinner conversation that he hadn’t had much to eat. He took a bite of the sandwich, then moved to the window. “There was one other contact. When I came out of the coffee shop she was talking to a guy. It seemed like they were arguing, but she denied it. When I asked her who he was, she just brushed me off. I didn’t want to push the point.”

“Was it Pettibone?”

Liam reached for the photo of Ronald Pettibone and stared at it for a long time. “No…I don’t know. Maybe. If it was, then he doesn’t look anything like this photo. But then Ellie doesn’t look anything like her photo.”

“If it’s him, he’ll be back,” Sean said, joining him at the window.

“She leaves her curtains open when she undresses,” Liam murmured, his gaze fixed on the apartment across the street.

“Oh, yeah?”

Liam pulled the curtains closed. “Don’t be a pervert.”

“You haven’t been looking?”

“Yes. But it was strictly professional.”

“And what did you think?”

“She’s got a nice body,” Liam commented. “A great body. And whoever took that bank photo of her ought to have his shutter finger amputated. It’s those kinds of photographers that make us all look like hacks.”

“What else did you find out?”

Liam shrugged. “I don’t think she’s a criminal.”

“She’s a woman,” Sean said, his expression tight. “A beautiful woman. And you’re blinded by her beauty.”

“I just met her,” Liam said. “I don’t get blinded until the fourth or fifth date.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Life. Romance. Work. Nothing in particular.”

“Introduce her to me. I’ll date her. I’d get answers.”

“Oh, right. You’ll charm her with your rapier wit and your bubbling conversation,” he said sarcastically. “Besides, we’re not dating. I had dinner with her, that’s all.”

“What’s her name?”

Liam frowned. “You know what her name is. Ellie. Eleanor Thorpe.”

“You’re falling for her. The way you say her name. You smile when you say it. I’ve seen that before. It always means the same thing.”

“I’m getting the hell out of here,” Liam said. “You’ve got your case back now-you can watch her.”

“I can’t. I’ve got to follow up on the case from Atlantic City. Husband’s heading off on a business trip to Syracuse and I’ve got to trail him there.”

“No way. I’m not spending another day in this attic.”

“Then spend as much time as you can with her. You have my permission. Whatever you get, you get.” Sean walked to the door, but at the last minute he turned around. He reached into his pocket, withdrew a wad of cash, then tossed it to Liam. “Three thousand,” he murmured. “That’s half of the retainer they gave me. It’s yours. Just don’t screw this up.”

The door closed behind Sean, but Liam didn’t move. Instead he stared down at the wad of cash in his hand. Three thousand dollars. He would have spent time with Ellie for free. But now, with the money in his hands, Liam realized that he wasn’t just playing at private investigator for his brother. Sean expected him to come through and ultimately that meant putting Ellie Thorpe in jail.

Liam shoved the cash into his pocket. Until this moment the women in his life had been conquests and challenges and, sometimes, lovers. Charming them had been part of his nature. But now, Ellie Thorpe was something else. Charming her was a job-a job he’d been paid to do. And if he was to succeed, he’d have to ignore the urge to romance her.

Liam had never done that before. “I guess there’s always a first time,” he murmured.

ELLIE STARED at the keypad mounted next to her apartment door. “I thought you were going to buy me a new lock.”

Liam smiled and casually draped his arm over her shoulder. “You remember that conversation?”

She felt a blush warm her cheeks at the memory of their dinner. And the blush was intensified by the blood pounding through her veins at his touch. Ellie knew it was simply a friendly gesture, but the warmth of his arm against her nape made her knees a little weak and her brain a little fuzzy.

She couldn’t deny her attraction to him. What woman wouldn’t be attracted? That dark hair that never seemed to see a comb. And those eyes, always with a devilish twinkle that made him seem all the more dangerous. Ellie knew she couldn’t let herself surrender to that kind of charm, but sometimes she couldn’t help herself. “I remember most of what happened,” Ellie murmured. “Especially the headache I had the next morning.”

Though she’d been more than a little tipsy, the wine hadn’t affected her memory, just her inhibitions. The things she’d said to him, the things she’d done, still brought a flood of embarrassment. She remembered throwing her arms around his neck and begging him to dance. She also remembered being scooped up into his arms and carried to the bedroom. And she remembered how much she’d wanted him to kiss her. But after that her memory got very fuzzy.

Still, it didn’t matter. Memory or none, when she woke up fully dressed the next morning, Ellie knew that nothing had happened. Liam Quinn had been the perfect gentleman. Maybe it was all for the best, Ellie mused. If something were to happen between her and Liam, she’d certainly want to be in full possession of her faculties when it did.

“I’m never going to drink wine again. And I’m never going to figure out how to use this. Look at all these buttons and lights.”

“This is better than a new lock,” Liam said, handing her the manual. “It’s a whole security system. It will keep burglars out.”

Ellie groaned inwardly as she took the manual from his fingers and wandered over to the sofa. Every time she had to program her VCR, she had to spend a half hour with the manual. She’d even found a self-help book called Electronics Anxiety, written specifically for people who were frightened of their computers and VCRs and alarm clocks. But it hadn’t helped.

And now she’d be held prisoner in her apartment by a bunch of wires and circuits and a very loud alarm. She wasn’t sure she’d ever want to go out again. “But I don’t need a security system. I could just get a dog.”

A very loud dog. But then she’d have to feed it and walk it. Ellie sighed inwardly. A man would be a better choice. If she had a man in her bed every night, she’d be able to get some sleep…or maybe not. Especially if she had a man like Liam Quinn in her bed. “Stop it,” she murmured, pinching her eyes shut and driving the thoughts from her mind once again. “How much is this going to cost? I can’t afford this now.”

Liam glanced over at the security technician who was picking up the last of his tools. “Ed is a friend of my brother, Conor. He put the system in at the pub. He’s doing this one as a favor.”

“All right,” Ed said. “These are the keys for the new locks. All the directions for programming in the code are in the manual. It’s easier than programming a VCR. I’ve wired all the windows and the door, so if any of them is opened when the alarm is set, it will go off. I’ve also installed glass-break sensors. The alarm will go to the security company who will call the police.”

“Great. Thanks, Ed.”

“Yeah, thanks, Ed,” Ellie echoed.

“No problem,” he said. “Call me and we’ll set up a time for you to come over and take pictures.” After Liam shut the door behind Ed, he turned to Ellie and smiled.

“Pictures?” she asked.

“He wants some photos of him riding around town on his new motorcycle. I told him I’d take some.”

“Then this wasn’t really free.”

“It was a good trade. And now you’re safe.”

“No,” Ellie countered, “my stuff is safe. No one can get in when I’m not here.”

“And no one can get in when you are here. Or if they do, the alarm will go off and the police will come. Believe me, when that horn goes off, the burglar isn’t going to stick around.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to work this.”

“Come here,” he said. “I’ll show you how. It’s easy.” Reluctantly, Ellie got off the sofa and crossed the room to the door. “You just push the star key twice, then wait for the red light, then punch in your code. We’ll do 3-5-5-4. See, that spells ‘E-L-L-I.’ Ellie. That turns it on and shuts it off. I’ll make an extra copy of your new keys to leave with the security company. If the alarm goes off when you’re out, they’ll come over and check the apartment.”

“I guess,” Ellie said. “But this whole thing scares me.”

“It’s meant to keep you safe,” Liam replied.

“Safe from what? Do you think that burglar will be back?”

“Probably not. But it’s better safe than sorry.”

“You’re right,” Ellie said. She stared at the keypad, a tiny sliver of fear niggling at her brain. What if the burglar did come back and Liam wasn’t here to save her? The burglar obviously hadn’t gotten what he’d come for.

Liam’s finger hooked beneath her chin and he lifted her gaze up to his. “You don’t have to be afraid, Ellie.”

“I know. Thank you.”

Liam leaned closer and touched his lips to hers in the gentlest of kisses. He kissed her as if it had been the most natural thing in the world, as if he hadn’t even thought about it before acting on the impulse.

“Feel better?”

“Not really. Can you do it again?” It was only after the words left her mouth that she realized what she’d said. He’d wanted to know if she felt better about the security system not if the kiss made her feel better.

“I’ll try,” Liam said. He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her toward him. The instant his lips touched hers, Ellie’s limbs went weak, her heart fluttered in her chest and she thought she might just hyperventilate.

It was clear from the way he brought his mouth down on hers that Liam Quinn was a very accomplished kisser. She tried not to think about all the women he must have kissed to get so good at it, yet she had to give credit for what they’d contributed to his rather formidable talent.

His tongue slipped along the crease of her lips and Ellie took it as an invitation to open her mouth. When she did, he deepened the kiss, and suddenly she realized just how unprepared for this she was. Desire snaked through her body, coiling in the pit of her stomach. This was need like she’d never felt it before, a deep physical ache that only seemed to be exacerbated by his taste and his touch.

Ellie smoothed her hands over his broad chest, her fingers searching the contours of flesh and bone. He was perfect, more perfect than she deserved, and Ellie wondered at the luck that had brought him running into her apartment that night. She wasn’t about to question it, and instead decided to revel in it. A girl like her usually didn’t get a chance with a guy like Liam.

He slowly pulled away, stealing one last kiss before he spoke. “I have to go,” he murmured.

Ellie’s heart sank. She’d imagined that she could continue kissing him for the rest of the afternoon and well into the night.

“I have to go photograph a rally outside Faneuil Hall,” he continued, brushing his lips over hers. “It has something to do with…sweatshop labor in…Third World countries.”

“That’s a serious problem,” Ellie murmured, pushing up on her toes and kissing him again.

“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.