Must Love Highlanders by Patience Griffin Grace Burrowes Page B

her with ferocious passion. Then it was Louise’s turn to be tender, to memorize the turn of his shoulders, the line of his flanks, the texture of his skin at the small of his back.
    She spent hours at the wheel and more hours online doing research—about glazes, collections, art schools, and the past. Hellenbore had retired amid some scandal involving an undergraduate “prone to depression.”
    “She should be furious, not depressed,” Louise informed the drinking cup on the wheel. “But if she forced him into retirement, maybe she should be proud.”
    The cup spun on the wheel, perfectly symmetric, but plain. No colors, no variations in texture or form to give it life.
    “You need to eat,” Liam said from the doorway. He watched her from time to time, but he neither answered questions nor asked them lately. The studio hardly had room for Louise’s heartache, Liam’s quiet presence, and that damned pink elephant.
    “I need to finish up,” Louise said, dragging the cutoff wire under her clay. “I’ll be an hour at least cleaning the knives, scrapers, and other tools. You don’t have to help.”
    Liam’s brows twitched. As an older man, he’d have bushy brows. That single twitch confirmed that Louise’s elephant was getting restless, putting a sharpness on her words she hadn’t intended.
    By this time tomorrow, Louise would have left Scotland, possibly forever.
    “I can make dinner,” Liam said. “I notice you haven’t started to pack.”
    Whatever the hell that meant.
    Louise mashed the clay back into a hard, compact ball. “I’m quick when it comes to throwing my things into a suitcase. If we’re making pizza, we’ll need ingredients. I’ll clean up, you make a grocery run, and we’ll meet in the kitchen.”
    “Sounds like a plan.”
    Liam sauntered over to her, kissed the top of her head, and would have left, except Louise caught his clean hand in her muddy one.
    “I’ll miss you, Liam. I’ll miss you terribly.”
    Another kiss. “Likewise, Louise Mavis Cameron.”
    Then he was gone.
    Louise dealt with the tools of her trade—her art—and tidied up the studio until it was as clean and welcoming as she’d found it. She grabbed a shower for good measure and was toweling off when another question joined her already overflowing supply.
    How had Liam known her middle name? She’d never told him, not specifically, which middle name went with which Cameron sister, and yet he’d known her middle name was Mavis.
    Interesting.

    Words stuck in Liam’s throat all the way to the airport, while beside him, Louise held her peace. A woman who’d been cheated out of her future as an artist by a lot of stupid, arrogant men probably learned to keep her own counsel very well.
    “Are you nervous?” Liam asked as they tooled over the Forth Road Bridge.
    “I have it on good authority that flying to the States is easier than flying to Europe. What will you do with yourself today, Liam?”
    He’d get the cottage ready for Jeannie’s next rental, respond to the emails he’d neglected for the past two weeks, and get on with the business of hating himself for the rest of his life—again.
    “I’ll catch up on the housework, mostly.”
    They reached the southern bank of the firth, that much closer to the airport.
    “Liam, you have a beautiful house. I didn’t poke around inside, though when I took Helen back yesterday, I couldn’t help but admire it. Somebody went to a lot of trouble with that house, a lot of expensive trouble.”
    This was a question he could answer. “How do I afford that place on a college professor’s salary?”
    “You have art everywhere. Nice art.”
    “That’s not only art, that’s inventory, Louise. For years, when I saw something I liked, I bought it. Small things at first, then larger pieces. You’d be surprised what major corporations and even law firms are willing to pay for a bit of the pretty for their offices.”
    Louise left off pretending to be fascinated with