Through a Magnolia Filter (19 page)

His bag bumped her side, and she didn't care. “Oh, my,” she said.

He rolled his hips against hers.

“We need to get to your room,” she whispered.

“Now.” He took her hand.

They hurried down the remaining stairs and stopped at his doorway. He fumbled the key card more than once. So cute. And her confidence built.

“Finally.” He yanked her inside, and the door locked behind them. Moonlight drenched the room. She reached out and stroked his shadowed face.

“Why did we wait so long?” She kicked off her shoes. One flew under the desk, the other behind the sofa.

“This last week, I've barely seen you.” He toed off his own shoes. “Before that, I wasn't sure you liked me.”

She tugged off his suit coat and tossed it over the desk chair. “But I did. I just didn't want to ruin my shot at a mentorship.”

“Not going to happen.” He spun her around and dragged down her zipper. Nothing could cool the heat flaming inside her. “I love working with you.”

“Me, too.” Her voice shook.

His fingers smoothed along her shoulders, pushing away the dress. His hands trailed to the small of her back. His lips took the same path. “Your skin is so gorgeous.”

With a little shimmy, her dress slid off, pooling on the floor. Stepping out of the circle of fabric, she kicked it away.

His hands slid around her, cupping her breasts as he pulled her into his chest. His thumbs brushed her nipples, forcing them into aching peaks under the silk of her bra. He nuzzled her neck. “Anticipation is a wonderful thing.”

Each touch of his fingers drove waves of liquid heat to her core. Gripping his thighs, she leaned her head back.

He kissed her, thrusting his tongue to meet hers. His erection surged against her bottom.

It wasn't enough. She twisted so her chest pressed against him. But nothing relieved the ache building inside.

She fought the buttons on his shirt, fumbling and pushing to get at his bare skin.

“Let me.” He ripped his shirt over his head and tossed it toward the sofa.

With his hands on her arms, he backed her toward the bedroom.

Her fingers caressed his chest, thumbs finding and brushing his flat nipples.

His groan filled the room. “I want to be inside you, luv.”

“That's the plan.” But her voice shook. The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed.

“I love the undies.” He brushed a finger along the top of her pale peach bra and ran it down the center of her belly to the matching thong. “The color suits you.”

“When I put them on—” she shivered “—I was thinking of you looking at me.”

She inched up on the bed until her back hit the pillows, her elbows propping her up.

He shucked off his pants, shoving his socks off with a sharp push. She waited for the boxer briefs to drop. There was a lovely bulge tenting the fabric.

Instead of joining her, he hurried into the bathroom. Light leaked into the room, chasing away some of the shadows.

Tossing condoms next to her, he crawled on the bed and straddled her legs. “I want you naked.”

She clutched his hips. “We're on the same page.”

“It's going to be your needs first, because I don't want this to end too early.” He slid his hands behind her back and popped the hooks on her bra.

Her hands clutched the comforter as he peeled her bra away.

He stopped and stared.

Embarrassment heated her cheeks...probably her whole body. “I thought you were in a hurry.”

“I want to admire you.”

“Liam,” she whispered.

He traced a finger from her chin down to the top of her breast and then repeated the action on her other breast. “What?”

“You're taking too long.”

“I love looking at you. I love your body.”

His constant use of the word
love
had her breath stuck in her chest. “You're not hard on the eyes, either,” she said, keeping things light.

He slipped lower, licking her nipple until it formed a tight aching bud. Then he took it in his mouth, working it with his tongue and teeth.

“Oh, yes.” His touch made her drunk.

“Liam,” she gasped, stroking his head, his shoulder, anywhere she could.

Her nipple popped out of his mouth, glistening. “I'm right here having the time of my life.”

“I want to touch you,” she pleaded.

“I don't think so.”

He planted kisses between her breasts and worked his way south. Down her belly, lingering to circle her belly button with his tongue. His fingers clamped on her hips as he kissed his way across her stomach to each hip bone.

And headed lower. Her breath caught in her chest. She couldn't think. Only feel. Everything pitched inside her like a boat caught in the surf.

He brushed a soft kiss on the inside of her thigh as he tugged off her thong.

“I can't take much more,” she panted, trying to sit up.

“You'll have to.” He pressed her back to the mattress. “You smell good,” he growled.

She couldn't reach him to touch. Could only arch her back as he pressed his mouth to her aching center. Fireworks flared behind her eyelids.

He tortured her for hours, days. Whenever she would get close, he backed away.

“Not yet. Not yet.”

She couldn't take this. She grabbed his shoulder, pulling him up where she could touch him.

Slipping her hand inside his briefs, she wrapped her fingers around him. A groan rumbled through his chest as she stroked him.

“Enough,” he growled.

Liam rose on his knees, pushing down his shorts. There was a crinkle of foil, and then he was finally,
finally
, taking his place between her legs.

“Now.” She grabbed hold of his lean hips. “Please.”

Pressing a kiss to her mouth, he entered her slowly.

“I want to savor this. Savor you.”

“You're killing me.”

He laughed. A rolling laugh that shook his chest and vibrated inside her.

“Liam!”

His blue eyes darkened to black as he held himself above her, his arms straining. She tilted her hips up to help him slide to the perfect union.

His hair slipped over his eyes as he worked his hips up and down, finally pushing home. The tendons in his arms popped out in deep relief.

She took a deep breath and breathed in Liam. His musk, the scent of their bodies together. Another addictive scent. She circled her hips, her breath catching.

“Stop, luv. Give me a minute here.” His head dropped next to her ear, and he took her earlobe between his teeth and nipped. A bite she felt all the way to where their bodies joined.

When he slid home again, everything—exploded. Sparklers flared behind her eyelids.
Yes!
She moaned, afraid the wedding guests would hear her in the ballroom.

“Another,” he whispered.

He rolled across his bed, taking her with him. Shifting so they stayed connected, he sat with the pillows stacked behind him.

“Come here.” His voice was a rocky command she couldn't disobey.

She straddled him, resting her hands on the headboard, and undulated as he directed her body.

His blue eyes grew black, and his chest heaved as she took him deeper. His fingers bit into her hips.

She didn't care. Her life had boiled down to each stroke of his body inside hers.

Tingles rolled through her again and she splintered into a thousand raindrops.

He thrust and held her as he came with her. Wave after wave tossed her around. She collapsed with a groan, and his arms were steel anchors holding them together, keeping her from disintegrating.

“I've got you. I've got you,” Liam murmured.

He rolled so they lay on their sides.

She forced her heavy eyes open. “Hi.”

“How's the form?” He cupped her cheek and stared into her eyes.

A weak laugh bubbled up. “Your form was fantastic.”

He frowned. “Are you all right?”

“I'm more than all right. I'm fabulous.”

“That you are, luv. That you are.” He brushed a kiss on her forehead before sliding to the edge of the bed. “I'll be right back.”

She should dress and run across the courtyard to her apartment. But how could she move? Her eyes shut. She just needed to rest—a bit.

And drifted off to sleep.

CHAPTER TWELVE

There are no bad pictures; that's just how your face looks sometimes.

Abraham Lincoln

D
OLLEY
HOOKED
HER
arm with Liam's as they entered the ballroom. There were a few people milling around, but no Abby or Gray.

“You're grinning.” Liam's whispered breath in her ear had tingles dancing along her skin.

“It might be gloating,” she whispered back. She planned to enjoy their new
couple's status
.

He covered her hand and squeezed. “After last night, I might never need a smile goal again.”

Bess waved at them. “Don't you two look like Reggie after he's caught a couple of bunnies? You'd better tone it down, or Mamma will be asking questions.”

Liam frowned, but it morphed into a smile. “Ah, Reggie is that behemoth white cat?”

Bess nodded.

Dolley stuck her tongue out at her sister.

But she didn't mind the teasing. She loved finally being on equal footing with both sisters. Well, close. Abby had just gotten married, and Bess was engaged. But this was the first time she'd had a man to show off to her family.

“Where are the bride and groom?” she asked.

“Abby's on her way,” Bess said. “She loved their bedroom.”

She and Bess had filled Abby and Gray's bedroom with flowers, candles and rose petals. She let out a little hum. “It was so romantic.”

Gray's sister walked in the room.

Bess leaned over. “I swear, Courtney pouted all week.”

“I'm afraid she won't like her candid shots.” Liam stroked Dolley's back. “What can I get you ladies to drink?”

“Mimosa,” Bess said.

“Make it two,” Dolley said.

Liam headed to the drink setup area.

“So...” Bess asked.

“So...” Dolley responded.

“Anything new with you two?” Bess bumped her shoulder.

Dolley pretended to lock her lips.

Bess's eyebrows arched. “Come on. How was it?”

She was too close to her sisters. Yet normally, she would have shared. Why was Liam different? “Bess.”

“It's been a while since you've had someone in your life.” Bess touched her hand.

“Wonderful. Incredible. Unbelievable. Pick one.”

“My, my.” Bess waved her hand like a fan. Then her smile slipped from her face. “What happens when he heads back to Ireland?”

Her sister's words struck her heart. “I don't know. I can't see that far ahead.”

Bess rubbed Dolley's back, soothing the tension there. “That's...hard. Don't let him hurt you.”

Liam came back with their drinks. “Where's Daniel?”

Bess took one of the flutes from him. “He's picking up his parents.”

“I took some pictures of the Forester family they might like.” Liam tipped his coffee mug to their glasses.

“I know they would love copies.” Bess sighed. “Thank you.”

“Samuel looked stronger than at Christmas.” Dolley leaned into Liam, just because she could.

“They lowered his chemo dosage for the wedding,” Bess said.

While they chatted, people flowed into the room in a steady stream. Even now they formed clumps of Boston society—Gray's guests in one corner and Abby's in the other.

When Mamma and Martin arrived, they circulated through the groups. Dolley was content to stay with Liam. For once she didn't want to flit from group to group.

Abby and Gray made an entrance, and everyone applauded. Then the servers laid out the buffet.

“I can't believe I'm hungry after eating steady for a week.” Dolley took a place in line.

“Maybe it was last night,” Liam breathed in her ear.

She turned and grinned up at him.

Courtney stared at her from the back of the line. Her face was screwed up like she'd just swallowed a basket of lemons.

Who cared? Courtney would go back to Boston. Dolley would only have to put up with her presence occasionally.

“This all looks wonderful.” Liam handed her a plate. “Abby didn't make this, did she?”

Dolley glanced over at her sister. “She's a control freak, but last night's caterers did the food today.”

She added egg strata to her plate along with fruit.

He leaned over. “You might need more fortification than that, luv.”

His whisper stole her breath.

“I will?” she choked out.

His eyes twinkled. “I thought we'd start working on your sister's wedding pictures this afternoon.”

“Oh.” Her sigh had a curl fluttering around her face.

“Why, Miss Dolley, what did you think I was implying?” he asked.

She flounced to an empty table, looking over her shoulder with a smile, and said, “Not that.”

Liam chuckled. His laughter was a gift. He set his plate down. “Do you want coffee or tea?”

She couldn't help grinning. No one had ever cared for her the way Liam did. “Coffee, please.”

He brushed a kiss on her forehead. “Be right back.”

She watched him walk away, almost pinching herself. Liam Delaney had picked
her
.

“What is it with you and your sisters?”

Dolley turned. Courtney stood next to the table with her plate of food.

“What do you mean?” Dolley asked.

Courtney jerked her head at her brother. “Your sister seduced my brother, and he invests millions in your family business.”

Dolley's mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut with a click. “He gave us a loan.”

Courtney waved her statement away. “And now you're seducing this Irishman, so you can learn the art of photography?”

“What? No!” She pushed up from the table but kept her voice down. “You have a twisted mind.”

“Right.” Courtney drew out the word, making it sound ugly.

“Is that how people in Boston treat each other?” Dolley snapped out.

“It's what you Fitzgeralds do. Use men to get what you need. Even Bess is hooking up with a hot contractor, and he's the one working on the house that
my brother bought.
” Courtney shook her head. “Why can't guys see through women like you and your sisters?”

“You...you...you're so wrong.” Why couldn't she think of better words to defend her family?

Courtney shook back her dark curls. “Everyone's saying it.” She moved to the table where her family sat.

Dolley slumped into her chair.
Everyone?

It felt like a thousand eyes drilled into her back.

She should have been able to eviscerate the Boston Bitch. Why couldn't Gray's own sister see how in love Abby and Gray were? And Courtney had no idea the heartbreak Bess and Daniel had overcome.

Liam set a mug of coffee next to her plate.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

“What's wrong?” He touched her shoulder.

She chewed her lip. “Courtney was spreading her poison.”

“Don't let her ruin this wonderful day and meal.” He dug into his food.

She picked up her fork and started to eat, but everything had lost its taste.

Was she using Liam? Had she allowed their relationship to progress because he'd been so angry after Anne had made her sound like a mercenary?

Her stomach rolled. Was she just as bad as the men in her life who'd used her?

Courtney had jumped to that conclusion. Would everyone in the photography world assume she'd slept with Liam just to get ahead?

“This is delicious.” Liam held up his fork. “Try it.”

She opened her mouth and let him feed her a bite of French toast, giving him an unenthusiastic “Mmm.”

The sparkle had gone off her day. Maybe it would be better to call it quits with Liam. Then she might salvage some professionalism.

Liam squeezed her leg. “I've got this weird sensation in my chest.”

She grasped his hand. “Are you okay?”

“It's happiness.” He touched her face.

Her breath whooshed out. How could she break up with him? “You make me happy, too. Thank you.”

“No.” He stroked her cheek. “Thank you.”

But Courtney's ugliness hung like a cloud over her happiness.

* * *

“B
ARBARA
,
HOW
'
S
IT
GOING
?” Liam put his mobile on speaker.

“You sound...chipper. Is something wrong?”

He laughed. “Everything's splendid.”

“Who is this, and what have you done with Liam Delaney?”

“Har-har.” But energy flowed through his body. He was alive for the first time in his life.

Last night had been incredible. He couldn't wait for a repeat. Although he'd hoped Dolley would have worked with him this afternoon, she'd begged off. Pity. He needed to work, but he also wanted to spend more time with her.

He pushed away from the attic table and paced to the center of the floor.

“Tell me more about your new premise idea,” his producer said.

“You didn't really call me on a Sunday to ask, did you?”

“Maybe.”

“The Fitzgerald helped a lot of Irish immigrants. I've interviewed a few of the descendants. Thought I would start the film with the general Irish migration, then talk about what the immigrants did in the south, the way they celebrate, and zero in on how James Fitzgerald and his son, Michael, helped their countrymen succeed. I'll tie everything back to the families that remained in Ireland.”

“And you've found enough descendants to keep the film interesting?” she asked.

“Yes. Dolley even found a letter from the Irish FitzGeralds asking James to help immigrants from Clare.” It had been a great find.

He heard Barbara's fingernails tap on her desk. “I'm still thinking about this change.”

He swallowed. He hoped Barb wasn't going to make a liar out of him. He needed this new story line to work. “We found more letters between the Irish and American Fitzgeralds.”

“And the Fitzgeralds have signed all the releases?”

“Yes. I interviewed them last week.”

“Good.” There was more tapping. “I think I'll come down with the crew.”

“It would be great to see you.” She hadn't come on location in years. Was she checking up on him? “Do you want me to make a reservation?”

“You read my mind.”

Liam got the specifics. “I'll let you know if they're full.”

“I've one more request. We need to get a website up for this film. I should have started this a while back, but the designer quit.”

Liam sat up. “Dolley's a website designer.”

“The woman who works with you also designs websites?” Glee filled her voice.

“And does them well from what I've seen.”

“I don't suppose she'd consider designing a website under our current agreement.”

“Barbara,” he admonished.

“It would keep the budget in line.”

“She's talented.” And gorgeous and sexy. “Why don't I show her what's been done for prior films and see if she has any ideas. Then you can meet when you're down here.”

“Excellent.”

The chair squeaked as he leaned back. Dolley needed help with a job, and he wanted to spend even more time with her. That was a win for him.