The Holiday (7 page)

"The old family tomb."
He glanced at her. "I used to own a flat closer to my office, in the City.
The financial district. It was a bland and tasteless living space that matched
my life. At least that's what Mel called it."

She angled herself toward him.
"I find it hard to believe your life was bland."

"My old life was. I worked,
returned to the flat that, according to Mel, had no character, ate tasteless
food I bought on the way home, and started the whole cycle over again the next
day. Until Mel pointed out that I was becoming my father, and his father before
him."

"Is that a bad thing?"

He shook his head. "My
father was a nice man, and so was my grandfather. But they both worked until
they were sixty, and then they died. If I only have another twenty-five years
to live, I want to live it. As far as I know, they had no regrets, but I don't
want to take that chance.

"When Mel pointed it out, I
decided I needed to change my path. I gave up the flat and moved into the old
family tomb in Holland Park, which I'm redecorating. I let Mel take me shopping
for clothes." He shuddered. "Mel with a project is a scary
thing."

Leilani laughed, and the light
sound made him smile. "It yielded good results."

He raised a brow at her.
"Are you saying you like how I look?"

"This coat is very nice."
She ran her hand along the lapel.

He loved seeing her wearing it.
"I got rid of some of the old family heirlooms and let Mel reinvest the
money for me. And I got MacLeod."

"Your dog."

"A puppy." He pulled
into his parking spot—a premium he happily paid for. "Are you ready
to meet him?"

"Yes."

They got out and he took her hand
again. He kissed it and then unlocked the front door. He heard the exuberant
galloping of his four-legged roommate rushing to greet them. "Brace
yourself."

Before she could say anything, he
opened the door and the monster jumped out at them. Colin caught MacLeod's
collar. "Sit," he ordered.

The Irish wolfhound sat
immediately, looking eagerly back and forth between them.

"That's not a puppy,"
Leilani said. "That's a horse."

"Leilani, meet MacLeod. MacLeod,
shake."

The dog put his paw out.

Laughing, Leilani took it.
"Nice to meet you."

"You see why I named him MacLeod."

She glanced at him in question.

"There can only be one. He's
too big to allow me to have another."

"Like the Highlander. Clever.
But how does an Irish wolfhound feel about having a Scottish name?"

"Yes, well, the poor chap
has a bit of an identity crisis."

MacLeod howled softly, as though
beleaguered.

She laughed and patted the dog's
head.

"MacLeod, get your
leash." He smiled at her. "Fancy going for a walk with us?"

"I'd love to."

"Will you be warm
enough?"

"You'll keep me warm."

His chest swelled with longing.
Unable to resist, he kissed her slowly.

They were both molten by the time
MacLeod returned with his leash. The dog nudged their legs, impatient to be
off.

Colin frowned down at him.
"You, my friend, have bad timing."

The dog huffed.

Leilani chuckled. "I've
never been chaperoned, much less by someone so woolly."

They started out, not talking
though the silence was comfortable and companionable. Colin wouldn't have
minded the silence at all—in fact, he liked it. A woman who could enjoy
silence was worth twice her weight in gold. He had a problem with not touching
her though.

He shot a look at MacLeod, who
trotted between them. The dog did act as a chaperon—too good a chaperon.
He'd have to have a word with the beast later.

As if reading his thoughts, the
dog looked up at him. The creature seemed to roll his eyes and then move aside.

Finally. Colin took Leilani's
hand firmly in his, happy when she smiled at him. He cleared his throat, trying
to keep from going completely sappy in her presence. "So, Leilani, do you
know where you are?"

"London." She looked
around. "I think."

"Specifically an area called
Holland Park. It's an old, affluent neighborhood."

"Hence the big Victorian
houses?" She pointed to one as they walked past.

"Yes, and an embassy or two.
Basically only the very rich or very stodgy lives here now. Like Kenneth
Branagh."

"Should I guess which
category he falls into?"

"Ken is a terribly dull
chap," he joked. "Please don't make assumptions about me."

"After you've already told
me you live in the family 'tomb?' Never." She gave him a sidelong glance.
"The tiny bit I saw of your tomb didn't seem funereal, by the way."

"Mel's doing. I take no
credit. The downstairs and my suites are in fairly good order, but the rest of
the house is still in shambles. I'll show you next time you visit."

"I'm invited back?"

"Definitely." He
squeezed her hand.

They turned the corner, and MacLeod
began to whine with longing.

Colin looked up, cursing under
his breath when he realized they'd turned onto Holland Park Avenue. He managed
to get a grip on the leash right before the dog lunged. "Oh no."

"What is it?" Leilani
asked.

"I didn't realize where we
are." He wrestled with MacLeod. "Heel."

The dog pulled him faster,
determined. He cursed the beast as he let go of Leilani's hand, not wanting to
drag her along.

"He seems eager," she
commented, trotting alongside them.

"He smells beer."

"Beer?" She laughed.

The sound brightened the world.
Caught up in it, he relaxed his grip on the leash.

MacLeod lunged forward, yanking
the leash out of Colin's hand, and took off running.

"Bloody mutt." He
watched the dog race down the street.

"Shouldn't we run after
him?"

"No." He took her hand
and walked at a normal pace. "I've never run in three-inch heels, but it
seems like they wouldn't be the most comfy running shoes."

"Will MacLeod be okay?"

"Yes. We're close, in any
case. It's just down the block."

"It?"

"The pub." He guided
her toward it. "You wouldn't be thirsty, would you?"

She smiled. "I'm parched."

Usually, if he were going to a
pub, he went to the Horniman at Hays, because it was close to his office.

But sometimes he met George here
at the Castle. It was local, and everyone knew everyone else, which could
actually be annoying at times. Like right then, when the place went silent as
they walked in, staring at Leilani in speculation.

He put a proprietary hand on her
back, eyeing the other blokes deliberately. Then he guided her to the end of
the bar, where MacLeod stood at the bar, forelegs propped on the counter as he
waited eagerly for his pint.

"My dog is a lush."
Colin looked apologetically at Leilani.

"A determined lush."
She took the stool next to MacLeod. She set her bag on the counter and
scratched behind his ears.

Jealous, Colin gave the beast a
warning look and moved his stool closer to her. Then he gestured to Jimmy, the
bartender.

Jimmy came over right away.
"And who is this lovely creature you have with you tonight, Colin?"

He shook his head at the
exaggerated brogue the bartender laid on. Normally, the man sounded more
English than his native Irish. "James, my friend Leilani."

"Leilani." Jimmy took
her hand and kissed it, flashing her a devilish wink. "You are a thorn
among roses."

MacLeod barked once, his tail
wagging.

Jimmy nodded in approval. "Except
for his nonsensical name, that dog is a credit to his country."

"MacLeod has a taste for
Guinness," Colin explained to her.

"That's original." She
tipped her head. "I've never had Guinness."

"Well, we'll fix that
immediately, won't we?" Jimmy hurried to take his time building a proper
pint.

Colin took her hand and shifted
so his legs bracketed hers. "Since we're here, I feel like we should take
the opportunity to get to know each other better."

"What do you want to
know?"

"Your middle name?"

"I don't have one.
Yours?"

"Reginald." He pointed
at her. "Do
not
laugh."

"I wouldn't dream of
it." She pressed her lips together, but her eyes gave her away. "Tell
me about your family."

"Typical British upper
class. We can trace our line back to the Norman invasion. My grandfather and
father were both in finance, and I followed in their footsteps."

"But now you've started
making your own tracks."

"Yes." He smiled.
"I like that."

"My dad was like that. He
and his brother inherited their dad's coffee plantation, but it wasn't him, so
he and my mom moved to Maui and started over."

"It worked out for
him?"

"Yes. He found his calling.
Dad's an artist, and plants are his medium. He tends one of the most beautiful
gardens on the islands. It's been featured in magazines everywhere. He's the
reason I followed my passion into art."

"You love your father."

"Very." She smiled
softly. "My mother too. I miss them a lot."

"They must miss you
too." He would, and he hadn't known her nearly as long.

Jimmy pushed three beers across
the counter, one in a large bowl. Colin set the bowl on the floor for MacLeod.
As he handed one pint to Leilani, he asked, "Favorite color?"

"Red."

"Favorite painting?"

"Chagall's Lovers and
Flowers."

"Favorite food?"

"Sushi."

"Favorite book?"

"The Book of the Dead."

He arched his brow.

She shrugged. "I'm an art
geek at heart. I can't help it."

"I'm not sure it counts if
you can't read the book."

"Who says I can't?"

"Touché."

They shared a smile.

"Your turn," she said.

"Alright."

"Favorite color?"

"Red." He'd fantasized
about her in red lace and nothing else.

"Favorite food?"

"Cake." In a perfect
world, served on her belly.

"Really?"

"I believe I mentioned my
sweet tooth."

"What kind of cake?"

"Chocolate. And lemon. And coconut.
And—"

She laughed, holding up a hand.
"I get the picture."

"Next question."

"Favorite drink?"

"Whiskey."

She looked pointedly at his
Guinness.

He lifted his pint and saluted MacLeod.
"Solidarity."

The dog barked once and went back
to lapping his drink.

Leilani also took a sip. Then she
asked, "Favorite position?"

He spewed beer all over the
counter. Coughing, he wiped at the mess, ignoring the cross look Jimmy gave
him. "Pardon me?"

"You heard me. I wondered what
we'd try first."

"Perhaps I'll save the best
for later."

"You don't like to eat your
dessert first?"

"When you put it that
way." He brushed her hair aside, rubbing his nose against her neck, loving
the way she shivered. "I can tell you I'm going to take you on your
balcony."

He heard her intake of breath.
She said nothing for a long moment, simply watching him. Then she said,
"Why didn't you tonight?"

"Tonight I'm getting to know
you." He traced a finger down her neck. "Tomorrow I'll get to know
you better."

She stared at him, and then nodded.
"Tomorrow then."

"I'll pick you up at
three."

She frowned. "You aren't
working?"

"Some things are more
important than work."

"This?"

He kissed her softly.
"Definitely this."

Leilani held a copy of the
gallery layout in her hand, but instead of picturing art on the walls she saw
Colin pressing her against the whiteness, taking her the way he'd promised he
would—thoroughly and in every way possible.

"Leilani."

Mel's sharp voice broke into her
daydream. "Sorry. What were you saying?" Leilani asked, trying to
focus.

"Just go primp for him. If I
know Colin, he'll be here early, and you aren't any good to me in the state
you're in. Honestly, Leilani. What has he done to you?"

Nothing yet, but she
really
hoped that was going to change in
an hour.

Mel rolled her eyes. "If I
am ever so pathetic about a man, push me off the Tower."

"I heard something about a
Latin polo player..."

Her new friend's face flushed
with color. "He was Argentinean, and I was young. But I'll rephrase my
statement. If I'm ever so pathetic about a man
again
, push me off the Tower." Turning, she answered her
ringing phone.

Mel was right—she
was
pathetic. But once she got this out
of her system she'd be able to concrete again. Hopefully.

She went to the bathroom in the
back of the gallery.

It was almost time. Would he take
her home? Would he come in here and take her? Mel was around, but just from the
couple days she'd been here she knew Mel would be on the phone. The gallery had
all sorts of nooks and crannies where one could hide away.

It was familiar yet so different,
from the layout to the light. She wondered if it had to do with the sun, that
the light in her gallery was warm and laid back. Here, the light was somehow
stark and intense—bright white instead of a sunny yellow.

Still, even though King's Gallery
had more of a busy city feel, it wasn't off-putting. Mel's Gallery invited you
in and took you on a journey. Two stories, the first floor had art in permanent
rotation; the second floor housed a special exhibit.

Leilani locked herself into the
bathroom. It was minimalist but elegant, a complete contrast to Mel's house,
done in white and modern fixtures. A vase of fresh flowers softened the
austerity.