“I wanted to thank you personally—”
“No need, Doctor. No need. Are you working the ER?” The last thing Liam needed tonight was for Lorelei to discover his wealth. Because he was pretty certain regular guys didn’t buy heart-lung machines for hospitals.
“No, but one of my patients was recently brought in by ambulance.” The doctor’s eyes flickered between the two of them. “Well, it’s good to see you. I’ll let you get on.”
The doctor closed the curtain again and Liam turned back to Lorelei, although he couldn’t force his eyes to meet hers. Guilt burned at the back of his throat.
“I remember you mentioning your brother when we first met, said he was a writer. Is he okay now?” Lorelei asked, her hand reaching for his.
Liam swallowed before responding. “Marcus died last month. He had a heart defect and although he was on the heart donor list for years he had such a rare blood type no heart became available before he died.”
She squeezed his hand in silent support. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Were you close with your brother?”
“He was everything to me. I’d have given him my heart if I was a compatible match.”
He closed his eyes and Marcus’s pleading face appeared before him. “Finish my book, please. It has to be you, only you.” Liam hadn’t been able to deny the entreaty and his botched attempt to fulfill his brother’s last request had led him here. Back where he’d started.
When he dared peek at Lorelei’s face, silent tears were coursing down her cheeks. Was living up to the promise he’d made to his brother worth hurting this woman further? If he had to choose between Marcus and Lorelei, he wasn’t sure which way he’d go.
Chapter Eight
Lorelei clutched Liam’s jacket to her chest as she pressed the doorbell. He’d been so concerned about her after her episode he’d forgotten to take it home. In the pocket was a receipt for a laptop. The recipient was IWC Security, but according to a Google map search, the delivery address was for a converted warehouse and not the head office. As Liam said he worked from home she’d taken a gamble that it was his place. For all she knew she could be calling on a client. She wasn’t quite sure how she would explain her presence if that was the case, but hopefully something would come to mind.
And if it was Liam’s place, at the very least she’d know if he was married or not. Every time she thought she was getting to know him, he’d shift the conversation away from himself. What could be worse than a wife and kid? She had to know. So, with eyes closed, she pressed the doorbell.
Despite the loud pealing of the bell, all she got in response was the faint babble of a radio or television set. She was about to walk away when she heard a woman’s voice call out Liam’s name. A red haze stopped rational brain function and she pressed the bell again, holding it down for maximum annoyance.
Light footsteps ran to the door and it was wrenched open.
“All right, already. Keep your shirt on!” a petite blond woman said.
Lorelei was about to thrust Liam’s jacket in her face and turn on her heel when the woman exclaimed, “Oh, you must be Lorelei. Come in.”
Confused, Lorelei stepped into the apartment after the woman. What wife would welcome her husband’s new girlfriend into their apartment?
“Liam, your woman’s here!” the blonde yelled.
Unsure whether she should follow the woman back to the sofa where she’d retreated, or stay where she was, Lorelei surveyed her surroundings. The apartment was a loft style, the floor all polished hardwood. Off to the right, the door to the kitchen was open and she could see top-of-the-range appliances. Several pots were bubbling away on the stove and a heavenly smell permeated the air. The warm, wood-filled apartment was not the place she’d imagined Liam lived in. She’d figured him for a chrome-and-leather kind of guy. This place was airy, yet had an atmosphere of cozy comfort.
Opposite the door where she stood was a huge flat-screen TV mounted on the wall surrounded by three plush, overstuffed sofas arranged in a U-shape. Over to the left, next to a wall of windows, was another seating area with a round table between two high-backed chairs.
Liam appeared from around the corner on the far left of the sofas, followed by a much smaller man who seemed vaguely familiar.
“Lorelei, how are you?” He rushed over to her side but didn’t kiss her. After the last kiss he was probably as nervous as she was. Besides, they had an audience.
“I’m fine. Thanks for the flowers and for calling. You should have let Mandy wake me up.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you, just make sure you were okay.” He stared into her eyes. His hand shook slightly as his thumb brushed across her lips before he dropped it to his side again.
“You forgot your jacket at my place.” Now that she was face-to-face with him again, her knees started to quiver. She shouldn’t have come. If he’d wanted to see her, he would have called.
Someone coughed and he whirled around as though he’d forgotten they were being watched. Who were all these people? He’d said all he had to go home to was an empty house and a frozen dinner. Maybe he was having a party. She quelled a sense of disappointment he hadn’t invited her.
He cleared his throat. “Oh, thanks. Come on in, we were just about to eat. Join us?”
“It looks like you’re having a party. I didn’t mean to intrude.” She backed toward the door.
“Ha! If I was having a party I wouldn’t invite any of these people,” Liam said with a laugh. He reached for her hand and gently pulled her into the room. “Let me introduce you to Helen and her brother, David. They live in the apartment across the hall, but as they are here more than there I think I should be charging them rent. David and I work together.” He gestured at the man who had retreated to the kitchen. “That’s Jason. He’s a chef, so he gets volunteered to cook when we’re all together. It’s a long story.”
“Oh, pleased to meet you,” was all she could think to say. At least he wasn’t married.
Lorelei glanced up at Liam, who shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He threw his jacket toward the hat rack, not bothering to pick it up when it fell short.
“I was going to call you again, but this work assignment got out of control and I lost track of time.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. If you have work to do, go ahead,” she said.
“David can finish it. Come, sit down.” He motioned to the smaller man, who retreated toward the back of the apartment.