The mighty Quinns: Liam by Kate Hoffmann Page B

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