They collected their gear from the boot and Kate trudged after him as he marched off along the cliff path. Kate wore a loose caftan with long sleeves. Her skin tended to burn easily, so she wore a wide-brimmed hat. Liam didn't seem to have the same worries about the sun. His shorts clung to his solid thighs, drawing her eyes to the lithe length of his legs with their covering of dark hairs. A breeze ruffled his hair and she was distracted by a stupid urge to catch up with him so that she could run her fingers through it.
Why fool herself--Liam Austin was too much man for her by a long way. She hadn't reached the ripe old age of twenty-six without learning a few tricks on how to handle the opposite sex, but here was a man who was definitely out of her league. She would never come away from a flirtation with him unscathed.
When he stopped Kate sighed her pleasure. "I can see why all the artists love to come here," she said. But it looked as if today they'd all stayed at home to finish up their turkey. They were alone with the birdlife. "It's wonderful, Liam."
Far below the sea lapped a rocky shore and pools of water glittered in the sunlight like diamonds scattered about. "I recognize this view from your works at home. Only the sea was raging against the rocks. Did you come here in winter when a strong wind was blowing?"
"Yes. It's mind-boggling on a wild day. You must come here when a southerly is blowing." He made the suggestion casually, as if he had no expectation of her ever doing such a thing.
"I'd like to," Kate said as she joined him on a wooden bench where he propped one leg over a knee while he assessed the scene below.
"Trouble is it gets a trifle too windy at times to paint. I did that work from memory mostly."
Kate reached into her bag for a pencil. They sketched for about half an hour, and she tried to ignore the turmoil raging inside her. A part of her knew that if he only touched her with those elegant hands that traced in the beginnings of a landscape she would be lost.