Don't Say a Word - Barbara Freethy [28]
She hesitated, battling the impulse to continue their personal conversation. Whether or not Alex had a woman in his life or wanted one was not her concern or her business. She was simply curious, but she could see by the determined look in his eyes that he was eager to move on. "Yes, I'm ready." She put the doll back into her bag. "I wish we could talk to Svetlana today. Do you think we should go by her shop anyway?"
"Why don't we look up Sergei Horkin on the Internet? Maybe we can find something about his paintings there. I'd like to get back to my apartment. I picked up a box of my father's photos at my mother's house earlier today. I still want to find that negative."
"Can I help you look?" she asked impulsively.
Alex hesitated. "Don't you have other things to do?"
"Nothing as important as this."
"Really?" he asked curiously. "Does your fianc? feel the same way?"
"Michael wants what's best for me. He'll understand." At least she hoped he would.
Chapter 5
Liz found Michael halfway up a ladder in front of the small two-bedroom house he'd bought near the Marina as a surprise for Julia. She smiled as he tried to keep his balance while dipping the roller into the paint tray on top of the ladder. He really was a good-looking guy, she thought, with his wind-tossed light brown hair, ruddy cheeks, and strong build. Even dressed in paint-spattered jeans and a T-shirt, he was handsome and sexy. Julia was crazy to think she could put this man on the back burner and not risk losing him. Or maybe Julia wasn't crazy; maybe she was just sure of their love. Michael had certainly been devoted to her the past year.
"You missed a spot," she said, pointing to the area above his right shoulder.
"Hey, Lizzie," he said with a wave. "Just in time. I could use a hand."
"You look like you could use more than a hand. Don't you need a crew to do this?"
"I can do it myself." He climbed down the ladder, wiping his hands on his jeans. "Or with a little help. What are you doing right now?"
"I wasn't planning on painting," she said, her hand itching to wipe the splash of paint from his face. She forced herself to put her hands in her pockets.
"My brother bailed out on me, and I want to get the front done today. I have charters to run tomorrow. I could really use your help."
"I don't have anything to wear."
He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged his arms out, tossing it over to her. She caught her breath at the sight of his muscular chest covered with a nice spattering of black hair.
"You can wear mine over yours," he said.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I can work on my tan."
She didn't think he needed to do that. His body was already nicely browned. She put his shirt on over her tank top. It smelled like sweat and Michael, a heady scent. She was losing it. Michael was a friend, almost a brother, and soon to be her brother-in-law. She needed to get out more, have some dates, find herself another guy to get all hot and bothered about.
"Have you spoken to Julia today?" he asked.
She was glad he'd brought up Julia. It put a nice solid wall between them. "I saw her earlier."
"Is she still thinking about looking for her real father?"
"Yes. I tried to talk her out of it, Michael, but she's stuck on it. You know how she is when she gets curious about something. She can't stop until she figures it out. Remember that puzzle she worked on for three weeks straight until she finally put all the pieces together?"
"This isn't a puzzle. It's her life. And mine, too. I want her to focus on getting married."
"I understand."
"You don't think there's any possibility she's connected to that photo, do you?" he asked.
"No," Liz said. "That's a crazy thought. Julia is not Russian. She's just… Julia." She frowned, realizing that she didn't know Julia's ethnic background. But what did it matter? Julia had been happy with herself for twenty-eight years. Why did she have to suddenly change now?
"Maybe it's an excuse," Michael said, his lips tightening, a hurt look entering his eyes. "So she doesn't have