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One eye cracked open. He took in the lovingly made tray beside him, then her, the stretch of bare legs, his shirt hanging loose off her shoulder.

His gaze darkened. “I was talking about you.”

Heat curled low in her belly, but she clucked her tongue at him. “Eat first. I drained you dry last night.”

He groaned and rolled onto his back. “A hell of a way to go, love.”

She laughed, settling on the edge of the bed, picking up a strawberry and holding it to his lips.

“Is that honey and jam? You remember.”

“Of course, I remember. I still eat my fruit this way.”

“So do I.” His fingers curled around her wrist, bringing her hand and the berry closer. But instead of taking a bite, he nipped at her fingertips, his grin slow and wicked.

“After,” he murmured, pulling her down into the sheets.

And just like that, breakfast could wait.

* * *

Standing at the stove, Sophie cracked three eggs into a skillet beside the sizzling sausages and tomatoes.

“Need any help?” Liam asked.

“Sure, what would you like to do?”

“Watch.”

“In that case, you’re doing a great job. Keep up the good work.” Seeing as she would be at the stove for a while yet she asked him a question that had been on her mind. “So, tell me, how can an artist afford a place like this?” Liam, who was sitting behind the counter finishing the last strawberry, feigned offense. “Like what? It’s not Ashford Castle.”

“No, but it’s nice, not just the house, but the entire property. I mean, you’re talented, but not this talented.”

“Cheers for that,” he said dryly.

They shared a laugh before he added, “Actually, I really owe my initial success to one person.”

“Aw, you’re too kind but I really had nothing to do with it.”

“Good to know you think so highly of yourself,” Liam laughed and took a sip of coffee. “No, his name is Cian McKenna.”

Sophie was about to lift the skillet to transfer its contents to a plate when she froze. She didn’t want to sound the alarm before hearing the rest of his story.

“Cian came to a small show I had in Galway a few years back, bought two paintings he did, then he must have told his friends about me or something because it was right after that the show sold out—every piece. I’ve hardly had trouble selling anything since.”

Liam took a sip of coffee before continuing. Sophie, who gained her composure before burning their breakfast, remained quiet listening as she laid the plate in front of Liam.

“This looks great.” He picked up his knife and fork and dug in. “Mmm, this is delicious. When did you learn to cook?”

“Never mind about my cooking. I’ll tell you all about that later. You were saying, about Cian?”

Liam didn’t understand her interest in the story, but if this was what she wanted to talk about, so be it. “He collects art of all sorts, lives not far from here.” He was enjoying his breakfast so much that it took a minute for him to notice her shocked expression. “Is something wrong, love?”

“You did say Cian, Cian McKenna?”

“That’s right.”

“Oh, my God.” Sophie placed her elbows on the counter and covered her face with her hands.