“Just long enough to change and have a quick sandwich or something.”
He nodded, and if he resented that she would be leaving again so soon, he kept it to himself.
He followed her into the bedroom, draping himself on the bed as she rummaged in the closet for jeans and a comfy, loose sweater. “Cold out today, wasn’t it? I went out to pick up some supplies and that wind was bitter.”
“It was cold. I’m ready for spring.” She wondered where Liam would be come spring. In a desert somewhere? A jungle? The Antarctic?
He watched as she shrugged out of her white coat and placed it on a hanger in the closet.
“How was your day?”
“Long. The afternoon lectures were so dull, I nearly fell asleep. Dr. Emerson had ninety slides, with words so tiny we almost need magnifying glasses to see them. And he’s the one who writes the nitpickiest questions for the exams.”
“Bummer.”
She smiled briefly. “That’s one way to phrase it. How about you? Did you make much progress on your revisions today?”
He shrugged and made a sound that gave her no answer at all. Something about his expression made her suspect he’d accomplished little. She hoped he hadn’t taken time away from his work just to shop and cook for her.
She reached for the top button of her blouse, then looked at him with lifted eyebrows. “Were you planning to watch me change?”
Moving with amazing swiftness, he came off the bed and stood in front of her, his hands covering hers. “Actually, I thought I’d help you.”
Her knees weakened as the first button opened, revealing the curves of her breasts to his eager eyes. Liam had that look—the one that always ignited sparks inside her. She cleared her throat when he teased another button from its hole. “I don’t have much time.”
His grin was wicked. “Then we should make the most of the time you have.”
Sliding her arms around his neck, she decided it would be worth missing dinner if it meant enjoying these stolen minutes with Liam.
Chapter Four
They were finishing the quick meal they’d thrown together when someone rang the doorbell just before six. Liam and Anne both froze, staring at each other wide-eyed across the table.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Anne asked in a low voice.
He frowned. “Of course not. No one even knows I’m here.”
She scooted her chair back and hurried across the room, checking the peephole in her door. Her face paled.
Panic edged her stage whisper. “It’s my father.”
Muttering a curse, Liam grabbed his dishes and shoved them out of sight in the kitchen. Casting one quick glance at the table to make sure it looked as though she’d been dining alone, he almost ran into the office and closed the door behind him as the doorbell pealed demandingly again.
“Dad. This is a surprise.” Anne’s voice was a bit muffled, but still clear through the thin door of the office/bedroom.
Henry Easton, Jr.’s, booming voice was much more distinct. “What took you so long to answer the door?”
“I was, um, on the phone. Come in.”
She wasn’t a great liar, Liam thought, but her father was too self-absorbed to notice, anyway. He heard the front door close as Anne invited her father inside.
“Smells good. You cooked dinner?”
“I was in the mood for grilled ham and cheese tonight. I hope nothing’s wrong at home?”
“No, nothing’s wrong. I know you weren’t expecting me. I guess I should have called first.”
“You’re always welcome here, Dad. Sit down. Can I get you anything?”