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“May I help
you?”
    “No, thank you. I’m waiting for someone.”
    “No doubt a devilishly handsome fellow.” He
winked at her.
    His eyes were a gorgeous blue.
    Of course. She should have realized. It was
Liam.
    In a low voice designed to avoid attention
from the housewives, Amanda said, “Damn it! Would you be serious
and stop changing into other people every time we’re supposed to
meet?”
    He blinked at her from behind his owl-like
spectacles.
    “There’s no need to get so uptight, darlin’.”
His Irish lilt was evident now. No wonder his voice had been so
gruff before. Liam could look like other people, but he had never
been much good at imitating voices.
    She wanted to deck him.
    Leading her over to a secluded corner of the
store full of bins holding everything from pizza cutters to garlic
presses, he looked around and when he was sure they were alone, he
asked, “What have you got for me? Will Irving come out of his
precious mansion soon?”
    To avoid looking into his ridiculous,
middle-aged face, Amanda glared at his ridiculous oven mitts. “No,
of course not, he’s a very sick, very old man. What is the Sculptor
expecting? That Irving will suddenly decide that it’s time for a
stroll through New York in thirty-five-degree weather?”
    “The Sculptor doesn’t give a damn what Irving
wants. He thinks you, being Irving’s nurse and all, will be able to
sneak Irving out of the house.” Liam’s lips formed into a thin
line. “Don’t you want Sophia back?”
    Amanda felt the color creeping up her neck as
the anger took over. “Don’t you ever mention my sister to me again,
unless you’re bringing her home to me. It’s your fault she’s
frozen. It’s your fault she’s trapped!”
    Liam’s blue eyes hardened. Flinging off the
green oven mitts and dumping them unceremoniously in a display of
casserole dishes, he grabbed the glasses from his face, using them
to punctuate each word. “I. Didn’t. Betray. You.”
    “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Amanda
picked up a wire whisk.
    But how much damage could she do to him with
that?
    Liam had been claiming his innocence since
the first time she had met him to turn over her information on the
Chosen Ones. But now she knew what he was. One of the Others. An
enemy, nothing more.
    Certainly not someone worth all the sleepless
nights, full of yearning. Not worth all the tears she had cried for
lost love.
    Amanda decided now was the time to plunge
forward with the plan. If he didn’t accept it, he’d probably
deliver her to the Sculptor. Life as a sculpture or death at the
hands of the Others sucked rocks.
    But she had to take the chance for Sophia.
“Look, I have a proposal for you. Are you interested or not?”
    “Darlin’, I am always interested in a
proposal from you.”
    “Your charm is overrated. But not your
greed.” She dangled the bait. “It involves a lot of money.”

CHAPTER SEVEN
     
     
    LIAM DID skepticism very well. “You don’t
have any money. You and Sophia were barely making it with your
nursing job.”
    He knew Amanda too well, and it gave her a
great deal of satisfaction to retort, “You’re right, I don’t have
money. But Irving Shea has tons of it.”
    His eyebrows went up. She had surprised him.
“I didn’t think you’d get to the point of killing the old man and
stealing his money.”
    “Be serious, would you?” Amanda was already
getting exasperated. So much hung on Liam agreeing to the plan.
    And Liam Gallagher had always had the ability
to get her riled up.
    “I’m completely serious. How else are you
going to get money to pay me for” — he waved him hand in a
noncommittal manner — “whatever it is I’m supposed to do?”
    “You’ve been with the Others for too long.”
Amanda said bitterly. “You’ve forgotten the idea of simple human
kindness and decency.”
    “No, darlin’, I haven’t forgotten about them.
I just don’t see much evidence of them in my daily life.”
    Amanda