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He tried to get her to come with him to the boatyard where he worked on Wednesday afternoons and Saturday mornings with the St. Brendan’s kids. “You want to come,” he said because she quizzed him eagerly about everything when he came back.
But she wouldn’t come. She told him, “I have work to do.”
“Work can wait,” he told her.
But she shook her head. “It’s my job.” And Holly was determined to do what she had promised to do.
He had no complaints. The minute she’d taken over as gallery manager, things started getting done. She didn’t know everything that needed doing. She wasn’t familiar with galleries and artists and who the people to know were. But she figured out very quickly who to ask. She even called Grace and asked her advice.
“Grace Marchand?” Lukas stared at her, surprised. She was making dinner in his kitchen, looking completely at home. He liked coming in at night to find her there. “You know Grace?”
“No, but you do.” Holly tore up lettuce for a salad with brisk efficiency. “I said I was working for you, and I needed some advice. She was happy to help. We’re having lunch together tomorrow. You’re not invited,” she informed him cheerfully.
And thank God for that, Lukas thought. But he couldn’t help wondering how things were going the next afternoon. And he made it a point to turn up in her office to remind her about his softball game that afternoon.
“How was Grace?” he asked, just a little warily.
“She’s brilliant. She’d make a great gallery manager,” Holly told him. “All the right connections. She can get anything in the city done before dinner. Seriously, Lukas, you might think about it. I can see why your mother thinks you ought to marry her.”
“No,” Lukas said firmly. “Just no,” he said again when her eyes widened at his vehemence. “Not interested.”
Holly let out a sigh. “Well, you’d better find someone,” she said. “It’s not that long until I leave.”
She still talked about leaving. There was a copy of her itinerary tacked to the bulletin board in her office—and some Peace Corps official mail reminding what inoculations she was expected to have before she left.
“Good thing I’m not needle-phobic,” she said cheerfully the day she went to get her typhoid shot.
Lukas found he wished she were. And he didn’t like being asked his opinion about what sort of clothing she should plan on taking to a South Pacific climate.
It was all he could do not to tell her to forget the South Pacific climate, that she was staying right here. But if he told her that, then what? He kept his mouth shut.
In bed they didn’t have to talk about inoculations or proper attire or anything else. They made love. And there, too, Holly exceeded expectations. She was as willing, eager and inventive a lover as he could have hoped for. And she welcomed his lovemaking with passion and enthusiasm.
He daydreamed his way through the grant applications, doing his best to whittle them down. His heart caught in his throat when he watched her at work, nibbling on the end of her pen as she contemplated something she was reading, or licking her lips at the sight of a particularly tasty snack one of the artists brought in, and his mind flashed back to those lips on him, that tongue making him crazy with need.
He was going crazy right now. He’d just come back from a meeting at the Plaza and stopped by her office to discover her at her desk, sucking her pen as she read.
Holly looked up. “Oh. You’re back.” She smiled. “Did you say something?” She twirled the pen across her lips again, then ran her tongue over the top of it.
Lukas felt blood pumping where it had no business pumping at the office in the middle of the day. He started to straighten, then changed his mind and cleared his throat instead. “No. And stop teasing.”
“Me?” Holly looked briefly surprised, then gave him a smug grin. “Hadn’t realized I was.” But the speculative look in her eyes made his temperature go up another notch.
“You realized.” And if she hadn’t at first, she certainly did now. “You want me to make love to you right here in the office?”
Holly tipped her head, a smile playing at her lips. “Is that a threat?” she asked. “Or a promise?”
* * *
Holly had never thought of herself as wanton. She never would have considered making love with Matt on a desk in the middle of the afternoon. But Lukas brought out the devil in her, the one who, when pushed, had learned how to push back, the one who was determined to grab these few weeks and live them to the fullest.
