He showed her the whole building, top to bottom. She had, of course, seen his office when she'd burst into it earlier. But after he took her through the galleries and the studios and workshops, he brought her back upstairs and showed her around his top-floor apartment with its skylights and its twelve-foot ceilings and highly polished oak floors. Her whole condo could have fit in the main living space of his apartment. On one wall, his sister, Martha, had been painting a mural.
"She's not finished," Lukas said. "It's a work in progress. She's adding things as I think of them." So far she had done a panorama of what Holly presumed were significant places and events and people in Lukas's life. There was a New York City skyline, a South Pacific island, the deep reds and ochers of the Australian outback and the blue-and-white houses of Santorini. A man who looked rather like Lukas's friend Skeet was whittling a piece of wood. His parents were dancing at a wedding. Martha herself was with a man Holly guessed was her husband. Three little kids clambered all over them. She spotted the house he'd lived in on the beach in the Hamptons, the facade of the building in which they were standing right now, and a dozen other things-rain forests, old manuscripts, a rough-coated retriever-ish sort of dog-all symbols of Lukas's many interests, of the wide and various enthusiasms of his life.
And, of course, there was a sailboat. Not the one he and Matt had never repaired. This one was whole and skimming through the water. At the helm, looking toward the future, no doubt with his eye out for whatever would catch his fancy next, was a man with sun-streaked, windblown brown hair.
For a moment, Holly couldn't look away.
"When she gets going, there's no stopping her." Lukas came to stand beside her, so close that the sleeve of his shirt brushed her bare arm. The awareness was like a magnetic pull.
Holly moved back so she could get a broader view. So she could step away.
"She's got amazing talent. You should feature her."
"She's already showing at another place in the city. Besides, Martha's not Pacific. Not in any sense of the word," he added with a grin. "You remember Martha?"
"Yes." Martha had, in her way, been as much of a force as her twin. She had always known what she wanted and gone after it. No one in Martha's family was remotely arty or painted murals. Martha did.
"She'd like to see you again," Lukas said. "When she and Theo are in town-they live in Montana-we should get together."
"Sounds like a good idea," Holly said, certain she'd be gone by then. She glanced at her watch. "It's past six thirty. Gotta run."
She had chatted with him all the way down in the elevator, told him again what a great place it was, and, just for good measure, had reiterated that he didn't need to continue showing up for the kids repairing the sailboat as long as he stopped going now.
Lukas nodded. "No worries. I'll be there." And when she'd opened her mouth to protest, he'd said, "I crossed my heart, remember?" Sea-green eyes bored into hers.
"I remember."
"I'll even tell you all about what happened," he said. "Unless you're going to be there yourself."
"No."
"Then I'll tell you at dinner on Saturday."
"I don't-"
"You don't have a date, do you?" he challenged.
Unfortunately no, she didn't. And she wasn't a good enough liar to pretend she did.
He caught sight of a cab and flagged it down, then opened the door for her and shut it again, bending down to lean in the window. "I'll pick you up Saturday at six."
Something she wasn't telling Stig and Althea. God knew what Althea would make of her going out with Lukas.
"We have to go," Althea said to Stig, who was carving the roast.
Stig looked skeptical. "Birdcages?" But then he shrugged. "Why not?"
Althea beamed. "See?" she said to Holly. "Isn't he a dear? And he came with me yesterday and picked out your dress."
"Did he?" Holly tried not to sound as worried as she felt.
Althea nodded happily. "I took him to a couple of boutiques we missed. And he picked a dress." She smiled. "He says it captures the real you."
Which could be ominous. Holly wasn't sure what "real her" Stig was capturing-and how he knew, anyway. They were hardly bosom buddies. She got no clue from the man himself. Stig finished carving and sat back, grinning guilelessly.
"Tell me about it," she suggested.
Stig shook his head. "Wait and see."
"You can see it next week," Althea said, passing her the potatoes. "I can pick it up on Wednesday unless you want to try it on there for alterations?"
"I'll pick it up." She could deal with the alterations herself if Stig had picked something totally outrageous.
"I don't see you as a cupcake," Stig told her.
Well, thank God for that. But Holly didn't have time to worry about it. Over dinner Althea wanted to talk about the wedding reception, and after, when Stig took the dog for a walk, Althea pressed her for more details about Lukas's gallery-and Lukas.
"I didn't think the gallery was open yet, or we'd have gone," she said. "I thought the article said something about the first week in July."
"Yes. Lukas said that, too," Holly agreed. "But it's sort of a gradual process, apparently. Several of the artists are already there, and a lot of their work is already on display. But the hours are still limited."
"But he gave you a tour!" Holly could see the wheels turning in Althea's head.
"He wanted to show it off," Holly said dampeningly. "And it gets him away from going over the finalists for the MacClintock grant, which drives him nuts." He'd told her that.
"I can't see Lukas sitting still for long," Althea agreed.
"He's doing a lot of the actual carpentry on the apartments." For all that he disparaged his contribution, Holly understood that he'd done a lot of the finish work as well as what he'd described as "grunt stuff."
"I'll bet he looks good in a tool belt."
Holly was quite sure he did, too, and felt her face warm at the thought. Determinedly ignoring it, she talked about the gallery opening instead.
"He's waiting on the gallery manager," she said. "She's coming from Sydney next week. I gather she's very good at this sort of thing. Can do it with one hand tied behind her back-or from the other side of the world. But he wants her here before they officially open. So that's why they're waiting for the grand opening."
"You're going, of course," Althea said as she loaded the dishwasher. It wasn't a question.
"I might be back out at my mother's by then."
Althea looked up, startled. "At your mother's? Why?"
"I'm hoping the condo sells. If it does...I have to go somewhere." She took a swallow of the wine Stig had poured for her before they cleared the table. "I'm just doing wishful thinking here."
"You won't have to move in three weeks," Althea protested. "You haven't even sold it yet, have you?"
"No." She swirled the wine in her glass, staring at it moodily. "I'm just hoping I will. I don't want to have to deal with it long distance-particularly not 'out of the country' long distance. I should have put it on the market before now." Her brother, Greg, had told her at Christmastime to put it on the market then. But Holly hadn't been ready then. She'd only just made the decision to go. "I am going to have to get a storage locker somewhere soon anyway."
Althea finished putting the last dishes in, then turned the dishwasher on. Drying her hands, she turned to Holly. "It still seems insane to me. Giving up everything. Going halfway round the world."
It wasn't the first time they'd had this chat. Holly said, "I'm sure."
And not just for all the reasons she'd had before.
Now she also needed to put a world between herself and Lukas Antonides.
She might not know what she wanted out of the rest of her life, but it was perfectly clear what Lukas wanted-a roll in the hay or the urban equivalent thereof.
His "I want to kiss you" in that sexy sandpaper voice had sent shivers right down from her neck to her toes. Still did.
He hadn't done it, but he hadn't been joking. And if he had kissed her, he wouldn't have stopped there. When Lukas wanted something, he was single-minded. If he decided he wanted Holly, he would do his damnedest to get her into bed.
But scariest of all was Holly's fear that she might not stop him.