In Your Eyes

by Laura Moore

  “It’s not that bad. Just some interesting twinges and aches in rather unexpected places.” Leaning forward, she touched her lips to his. “But like you, I have amazing recuperative powers. I’m certain that by tonight I’ll be fully recovered.”

  Gen’s ego got a definite boost from the immediate spark that flared in Alex’s eyes, a hungry light of anticipation she’d come to recognize. Despite her undeniable soreness, she felt her body tighten in response.

  His lips brushed hers in a second tantalizing kiss. “Maybe they’ll be exhausted from the trip. . . .”

  His family. They were coming today. Gen had almost forgotten. “Maybe your sister and brother-in-law,” she said. “But your niece and nephew? They’re six years old, right?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Then don’t bet on it. They’ll be totally wired.”

  His groan had her laughing. “What do they like to eat, by the way?”

  “Mmm, let me see if I can remember. Oh, yeah. Pizza, pizza, and pizza. But we’d better wait until Cassie and Caleb are gone before we start spoiling Soph and Jamie rotten. Cass takes their nutrition very seriously.”

  “Soy burgers it is then,” Gen pretended to write on her list.

  Alex looked vaguely revolted. “I’m sure plain old hamburger will pass muster. I was thinking we could have a cookout after the beach. If the twins race around enough, they’ll get tired. And if they’re tired, they’ll go to bed.” He arched his brows.

  “You have a truly devious mind. Or is it a one-track mind?”

  “Both.” He grinned at her with devilish charm.

  “What time do you have to leave for the airport?”

  “Around noon. Do you want to come along?”

  “No, no,” she said. “There wouldn’t be enough room in the car.”

  “Chicken,” he taunted softly.

  “What are you talking about! I am not!”

  He gave her a swift hard kiss. Grinning, he sat back on his haunches. “Are too,” he replied. “You’re a terrible liar, Gen. Everything shows on your face. Come on, ’fess up, you’re terrified.”

  She couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, I admit to feeling a tiny bit nervous about meeting your family.”

  “Cassie’s great, and Caleb’s a vet. You’ll get along fine. Believe me, meeting them is a cakewalk compared to what I went through at your little family gathering,” he said, laying special stress on the word “little.”

  “What! They were totally accepting of you.”

  “Sure they were. But that didn’t stop your father from letting me know how much he cherished his baby girl. It didn’t prevent your sisters and brothers from giving me the third degree, and it sure as hell didn’t stop Kyle from demonstrating that if he wanted to, he could decapitate me with a softball.”

  “Kyle’s just supercompetitive when it comes to our family softball games. He wasn’t trying—”

  “Yeah, he was,” Alex contradicted her cheerfully. “I should know. I used the same kind of tactics with Caleb. Come to think of it, I was probably even more heavy-handed.”

  “Has he forgiven you?”

  “Pretty much,” he said with a laugh. “After all, I let him marry my kid sister.”

  “Well, I still think it’s better if I stay behind. I’m sure they’d like some time with you alone. And I want to get my canvas stretched and gessoed. Are you working this morning?”

  “Yeah. There’s a software company that’s developing some programs with real potential. I’ve got to do a little digging and see whether their competitors have anything nearly as hot.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Then I make some calls double-quick and see whether we want to go into this solo or get a consortium together. So, yeah, that’ll tie me up for most of the morning.”

  Then Alex would leave and be gone until late afternoon, Gen thought, her spirits sinking. She stole a glance at his wristwatch. It was just seven-thirty. She should start preparing Mrs. Miller’s breakfast tray and then head to the studio—where she’d be apart from him.

  Impulsively she leaned forward and asked, “Do you want to bring your laptop and papers over to the studio? I can clear off some space.” Even as she spoke she felt a jolt of surprise at what she was saying. What she prized above all in her new studio was the privacy, the incredible luxury of working uninterrupted, with no one to distract her.

  Alex appeared equally surprised by her invitation. Surprised and pleased. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her a crooked little smile that did wonderful things to her insides. “I won’t be disturbing your concentration?”

  She shook her head. It would be far more distracting to spend the morning inventing a million excuses to go over to the house and wander into his study so she could look at him. “No, I’m pretty good at blocking things out when I work.” She let her gaze travel over him. “And I do find you very inspirational . . .” she let her sentence trail off suggestively.

  He grinned. “Well, I think it’s really important to support the arts in every possible way I can.” His voice took on a more serious note. “If I have to make any calls, I promise I’ll talk softly.”

  “Don’t worry, Miller, I’ll tell you right away if you’re bugging me. And I should warn you I may make some distracting noises myself when I stretch the canvas.”

  “I don’t think that’s what’ll be distracting me.” He rose, pulling her up from the chair with a tug of their clasped hands. He drew her close until she was flush against him. They stood melded, bound by a passion whose force neither could resist. Lost in each other, Alex’s mouth settled over hers in a possessive kiss that made her pulse race and her heart yearn.

  A movement at the edge of Alex’s field of vision made him look up from the memo he was writing to his partners about I.Com, the start-up software company he’d mentioned earlier to Gen, in time to see her lean over Murphy, a fat paintbrush in one hand, a rawhide bone in another. Planting a kiss on his shaggy snout, she said softly but firmly, “Bed, Murphy.”

  The dog understood the bribe at once—but on his own terms. Alex watched him delicately pluck the bone from Gen’s outstretched hand. Instead of carrying his prize over to his bed, however, Murphy, tail wagging, came over to where Alex was stationed. He brushed his shaggy body against Alex’s shins, turned, came back for a second pass, then stopped when he was directly over his bare feet. Without hesitating, he sank down on them. Blanketed by his solid weight, Alex felt Murphy’s ribs expand in a doggy sigh of contentment. Then, without further ado, he got down to the business of chewing his bone while watching his beloved mistress.

  Damned smart dog, Alex thought, to figure out how to optimize his pleasure: Murphy now had a human tummy scratcher, a bone to gnaw, and Gen in his sight. For Murphy, life was definitely good.

  Alex understood the feeling. He, too, was filled with a sense of contentment. And hell, he didn’t even need a rawhide. All he needed was Gen.

  The amount of work he’d accomplished this morning was surprising given the number of times his hands had slowed to a halt over the keyboard while his eyes sought her out. As they did now. Their gazes connected, hers filled with dismay.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, gesturing at Murphy with her paintbrush. “I was trying to keep him out of the gesso. For some weird reason, he always tries to stick his nose in it. Must be the smell or something.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve nearly finished with what I needed to do this morning. I don’t mind wiggling my toes every so often if it keeps him happy. Gesso away,” he encouraged.

  “Thanks,” she said, flashing him a grateful smile before turning back to the large stretched canvas that now hung on the wall. From the canvas’s size alone Alex knew without having to ask that this was the piece she was painting for the hospital wing.

  The glances he’d stolen of Gen this morning had been fascinating. He soon realized that she hadn’t exaggerated one bit back in his office weeks ago when she’d rattled off all t
he things she could do—not if the ease with which she handled her tools was anything to go by. Solo, it had taken her about an hour to assemble the ten-by-twelve-foot stretcher, attaching the wooden strips with a heavy-gauge staple gun. Next, she’d measured out the canvas, cut it to size, and laid it over the stretcher. Using some type of wide-mouthed pliers, she’d then methodically worked her way around the stretcher, pulling the canvas tight over the wood and then stapling it into place.

  When she’d first begun stretching the canvas, Alex had been tempted to offer her a hand. Luckily he’d been wise enough to keep his mouth shut. Gen obviously knew her stuff. And so he’d been able to sit back and enjoy the efficient and assured grace of an artist who clearly loved every aspect of her craft.

  He hadn’t expected her to suggest he bring his work to the studio. Although she was heaven in bed, his own wicked angel, he hadn’t thought she was ready to allow him into the sanctum of her studio, where he might witness her wrestling with the creative process—pretty much the equivalent of being allowed to peek behind the magician’s curtain. It moved Alex more than he could say that Gen was willing to share this part of her life, this part of her self with him.

  It struck Alex again how different Gen was. She wasn’t just different. She was extraordinary. And somehow even “extraordinary” seemed too dull a word to describe Miss Genevieve Monaghan of Somerville, Massachusetts, and his mouth curved in an unconscious smile. The way she’d given herself to him so naturally humbled him. He’d never been with someone so open, so free of artifice—in bed and out of it.

  For instance, it hadn’t even occurred to Gen to use Jiri against him. The majority of the women he’d dated would have sensed his jealousy right away and used it, dangling Jiri before him in the hopes of spurring his possessiveness. Not Gen. It wasn’t because she was stupid or naive or some paragon of virtue. No, it was because she was graced with a forthright honesty and directness. She didn’t use people or manipulate them for her own ends. Understanding this now made the possible reappearance of Jiri Novak less threatening; Gen wouldn’t respond to him as she did if she were even remotely interested in her former mentor.

  Alex wasn’t sure how he’d gotten lucky enough to have Gen walk into his life. But he was beginning to realize that if she were ever to walk out of it, he would never be the same.

  TWENTY

  For once Gen didn’t need Murphy’s extra-sensitive hearing to alert her to Alex’s return. Ever since the clock’s hands had slipped past four-thirty, her ears had strained for the sound of a car coming up the driveway; she heard the rumble of the Volvo almost the same instant Murphy did.

  As the last thing she wanted was for her dog to petrify two six-year-olds who were probably shorter than he, she’d taken the precaution of snapping Murphy’s leash to his collar. Quickly she stepped on the end of it before Murph could bound out the studio.

  “No way, buddy,” she said. “We’re going to try for dignified here.”

  Murphy gave a bark that to Gen sounded suspiciously like outrage.

  “Hey, that doesn’t mean we’ll actually succeed,” she replied. “But like Mom says, first impressions are important. So I’m going to see whether we can say hi without you toppling the whole family like a rack of bowling pins.” Abruptly realizing that she would rather spend the next half hour lecturing her dog than walk outside and meet Alex’s family, Gen shook her head. Jeez, she was a pathetic mess. Some first impression she’d make if they were to walk in now and find her babbling like a lunatic.

  She definitely needed to get a grip—and on more than Murphy’s leash. Wrapping the leash around her hand, she scratched the flat top of his large head. “Sorry to cramp your style, Murphy. I’m sure they’ll like you fine. Well, here goes.”

  The sound of laughter and animated voices greeted her as she rounded the corner of the house, with Murphy’s tail waving double-time as he picked up on the humans’ excitement. All of the Volvo’s doors were open. Her gaze immediately searched for Alex but found only his legs, the rest of his body swallowed by the trunk’s maw. Suitcases lay in a growing pile by his feet.

  Mrs. Miller’s hearing was obviously as keen as Gen’s, either that or she’d been keeping a sharp look-out for the car. She was already in their midst, exchanging hugs and kisses. Despite Murphy’s wishes, Gen hung back, not wanting to interrupt as everyone said hello.

  They made a lovely family, she thought, her eyes traveling over the group. She could see now that Cassie Miller was most definitely Alex’s sister. Graced with the same arresting blond looks, fine bone structure, and lean athletic build as her older brother, Cassie had a timeless, ageless beauty—and what incredible hair, Gen added with a touch of envy. Falling down to the middle of her back, it looked like a cloud of pale gold. And, Lord, the twins had the same blond halos—cut short into corkscrewed curls that bounced wildly as they dashed around the talking grown-ups.

  Gen had only time to ascertain that Cassie’s husband, Caleb, was no slouch in the looks department, either—tall and broad-shouldered, his striking dark coloring a perfect foil for Cassie’s blond beauty— when Alex’s upper body reemerged from the car’s interior and dropped two bulging backpacks, fuchsia and fire-engine red, onto the grass. Slamming the trunk door down, his eyes, radarlike, immediately fixed on Gen standing off to the side. Murphy, who’d been exceptionally patient up until that point, woofed joyously at Alex and lunged forward, dragging Gen willy-nilly after him.

  “Wow! That’s a cool dog!” one of the twins exclaimed as the other cried, “Daddy, Mommy, look at the dog!”

  “Yeah,” their father replied. “He’s a beaut, all right.”

  Murphy had dragged her into the thick of things, so to speak, stopping only when he was in front of Alex. As her dog pressed his muzzle into Alex’s hand, licking it, Gen gave the others a shy, breathless smile. “Hi, I’m Gen and this is Murphy. He, uh, really likes Alex.”

  “That’s too bad,” Caleb said and shook his head sadly. “Most wolfhounds I’ve encountered are pretty smart.”

  “Very funny, Caleb,” Alex drawled. “Gen, this is my brother-in-law, Caleb Wells, who claims to have a degree in veterinary medicine.”

  Gen shook hands with Caleb, trying not to stare. The man was really handsome. It was a good thing her vet wasn’t this good-looking. She had a hard enough time getting appointments as it was.

  “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Gen. And he really is beautiful,” he said, nodding at Murphy. “How old is he?”

  “Two.”

  Caleb squatted on his haunches, bringing his tall frame down to Murphy’s level. Murphy transferred his attention from Alex to Caleb. Caleb let him sniff his scent before giving the sides of Murphy’s head a vigorous rub. The dog thanked him with a big lick across the face, making the entire family laugh. Caleb stood. “Definitely a smart dog,” he pronounced.

  Alex spoke. “And this is my sister, Cassie. Cass, this is Gen. And these two munchkins are Sophie and Jamie.”

  “Hi, I’m really pleased to meet you,” Gen said, trying not to be disconcerted to find herself looking into three pairs of eyes so very similar to Alex’s.

  “You’re the lady who paints and has baseball parties,” Sophie said.

  Gen laughed. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  “Alex says you’re a very gifted artist,” Cassie said. “I’d love to see some of your work.”

  “Sure. Any time.”

  “I like to draw too,” Sophie informed her.

  “I know. I’ve seen your and Jamie’s drawings of your dogs.” Gen paused, searching her memory. “Radar and Annabelle, right?”

  “Radar’s mine, Annabelle is Sophie’s,” Jamie said.

  “Well, your drawings are terrific. I could tell right away that you love Annabelle and Radar. And how about baseball? Do you like that, too?”

  “Yeah.” Both children nodded enthusiastically. “We play a lot at home,” Sophie told her.

  Then Jamie asked, “Can we pet your dog?”
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br />   Gen instinctively looked at Cassie, who smiled and nodded slightly. “Sure,” Gen said. “You know how to let a dog sniff you. . . .”

  “Our dad’s a veterinarian,” Jamie informed her with pride.

  “We help him tons,” Sophie added.

  Caleb ruffled their curly heads. “Yeah, they’re my best assistants, and I only have to pay them in chocolate kisses. Kids, remember to be gentle with Murphy. And be prepared to get a big fat sloppy kiss.”

  For a few minutes, everyone’s attention was fixed on the twins as they made Murphy’s acquaintance. Gen relaxed as it became clear that the children knew how to behave around animals. In seventh heaven at finding himself the center of attention, Murphy’s dark eyes shone as bright as the kids’. She smiled as she watched them stroking his shaggy fur.

  “You’ve said hi to everyone but me,” Alex said, his voice pitched low, for her ears alone.

  Heart fluttering, Gen lifted her head and met Alex’s eyes. “Hi,” she uttered softly.

  Alex’s mouth quirked. “That’s better,” he said, reaching up to cup the side of her face. Holding her gaze, he slid his thumb over her bottom lip, tracing its lush outline. Gen’s breath quickened. “Did you miss me?” he asked.

  “Perhaps a wee bit,” she managed.

  “Ahh, Gen, surely it was more than a wee bit?” he murmured in mock dismay.

  She bit back a smile. “I was very busy.”

  “So was I. Thinking about you. And thinking about tonight.” Dipping his head, Alex touched his mouth to hers in a whisper of a kiss. When he drew back, his eyes burned with twin blue flames.

  The man was utterly devastating, Gen thought shakily. He knew how to seduce her so effortlessly, with just a word, a touch, a kiss, expertly and artfully delivered. If she had any common sense, she’d be terrified by how powerless she was to resist him.

  It was Jamie who broke the spell that Alex had woven. “Uncle Alex, look!” he cried excitedly. “Murphy knows how to shake his paw.”