Read Online Up Close and Personal by Maureen Child - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Maureen Child
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thoroughly enough, she laid that white edge against the roiling swells on her painting. Instantly, the water looked more alive. More angry. Which, she supposed, was fair, since the artist herself was feeling pretty much the same.
“I didn’t ask you to take care of me,” she said.
“Perhaps not, but the request was there, toward the end of our time together, every time you looked at me, I saw it,” he countered. “Thoughts and plans for a future that wouldn’t be happening.”
Maybe he had seen all of that in her eyes, Laura thought with a pang. But he’d sneaked up on her. She had thought what they shared was lust, pure and simple. A red-hot affair that would singe her socks off. She hadn’t meant to feel for him. To fall for him. In fact, she had been determined not to feel anything remotely like what she had once thought she had with Thomas.
Back then, Laura had convinced herself she was in love because she had so badly wanted to be. She’d wanted a family. A home. Kids. Maybe she was an anachronism. A woman out of time. Most women were planning for big careers, chasing dreams and feeding their ambitions—and there was nothing wrong with that at all. But that just wasn’t her.
Then, Georgia had been married, their parents off to Oregon, and Laura was alone. She had plenty of friends, but no…center. All she’d had was her condo and a job working for Manny Toledo—which was no woman’s dream.
And then there was Thomas. Getting engaged had looked good on paper. But she’d been more in love with the idea of being in love than she had been with the oh-so-boring, predictable Thomas.
When he had cheated on her, she hadn’t even really been mad. Or hurt. Or surprised. Which told her she had come close to making a huge mistake. Being lonely was one thing. Getting married for the wrong reasons was something else again.
Then Georgia’s marriage ended, she moved in and suddenly, Laura wasn’t as lonely anymore. She had her sister, her home and eventually, their own real estate business. It had been enough.
Until Ronan.
“So you wanted to save me from myself, is that it?” she asked thoughtfully. “So selfless.”
“I was trying to make it easier,” he countered. “On the both of us.”
“Hmm. And how’s that working for you?”
“Not bloody well at the moment,” he admitted, shoving one hand through his windblown hair.
“Good to know,” she muttered and dipped her brush into an open jar of turpentine. Then she used a rag to wipe it down before setting the brush aside for a more thorough cleaning when she got home.
No point in staying here any longer. She was losing the early morning light and Ronan’s presence made it impossible to concentrate anyway. Methodically, she began putting away the tubes of oils, setting them in the mahogany box, each of them in their proper slots.
“You were right about something,” he said after a long minute or two of silence.
Well, that got her attention. She looked up at him. “Really? About what?”
He frowned, shifted his gaze briefly to the crashing ocean behind him then turned his gaze back to her. “About Beast. I hadn’t really thought about what would happen when it was time for me to go home.”
Laura just stared at him. “The day you came to claim him, you told me you’d always planned on taking him to Ireland.”
“Aye, well,” he muttered as he scraped one hand across his face. “I may have exaggerated that point a bit.”
Shaking her head, she twisted the lids onto her jars of turpentine and linseed oil, then slapped them both into the wooden case. “You lied.”
“A bit,” he agreed, “though it’s no matter now anyway, because I will be taking him home.”
He gave her a rueful smile that she should have found charming. Instead, she was simply annoyed.
“But I do admit,” he continued, “that the thought hadn’t occurred to me before you dog-napped him.”
“I didn’t—”
He held up one hand. “The point is,
“I didn’t ask you to take care of me,” she said.
“Perhaps not, but the request was there, toward the end of our time together, every time you looked at me, I saw it,” he countered. “Thoughts and plans for a future that wouldn’t be happening.”
Maybe he had seen all of that in her eyes, Laura thought with a pang. But he’d sneaked up on her. She had thought what they shared was lust, pure and simple. A red-hot affair that would singe her socks off. She hadn’t meant to feel for him. To fall for him. In fact, she had been determined not to feel anything remotely like what she had once thought she had with Thomas.
Back then, Laura had convinced herself she was in love because she had so badly wanted to be. She’d wanted a family. A home. Kids. Maybe she was an anachronism. A woman out of time. Most women were planning for big careers, chasing dreams and feeding their ambitions—and there was nothing wrong with that at all. But that just wasn’t her.
Then, Georgia had been married, their parents off to Oregon, and Laura was alone. She had plenty of friends, but no…center. All she’d had was her condo and a job working for Manny Toledo—which was no woman’s dream.
And then there was Thomas. Getting engaged had looked good on paper. But she’d been more in love with the idea of being in love than she had been with the oh-so-boring, predictable Thomas.
When he had cheated on her, she hadn’t even really been mad. Or hurt. Or surprised. Which told her she had come close to making a huge mistake. Being lonely was one thing. Getting married for the wrong reasons was something else again.
Then Georgia’s marriage ended, she moved in and suddenly, Laura wasn’t as lonely anymore. She had her sister, her home and eventually, their own real estate business. It had been enough.
Until Ronan.
“So you wanted to save me from myself, is that it?” she asked thoughtfully. “So selfless.”
“I was trying to make it easier,” he countered. “On the both of us.”
“Hmm. And how’s that working for you?”
“Not bloody well at the moment,” he admitted, shoving one hand through his windblown hair.
“Good to know,” she muttered and dipped her brush into an open jar of turpentine. Then she used a rag to wipe it down before setting the brush aside for a more thorough cleaning when she got home.
No point in staying here any longer. She was losing the early morning light and Ronan’s presence made it impossible to concentrate anyway. Methodically, she began putting away the tubes of oils, setting them in the mahogany box, each of them in their proper slots.
“You were right about something,” he said after a long minute or two of silence.
Well, that got her attention. She looked up at him. “Really? About what?”
He frowned, shifted his gaze briefly to the crashing ocean behind him then turned his gaze back to her. “About Beast. I hadn’t really thought about what would happen when it was time for me to go home.”
Laura just stared at him. “The day you came to claim him, you told me you’d always planned on taking him to Ireland.”
“Aye, well,” he muttered as he scraped one hand across his face. “I may have exaggerated that point a bit.”
Shaking her head, she twisted the lids onto her jars of turpentine and linseed oil, then slapped them both into the wooden case. “You lied.”
“A bit,” he agreed, “though it’s no matter now anyway, because I will be taking him home.”
He gave her a rueful smile that she should have found charming. Instead, she was simply annoyed.
“But I do admit,” he continued, “that the thought hadn’t occurred to me before you dog-napped him.”
“I didn’t—”
He held up one hand. “The point is,
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