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I haven’t spent a penny of the seventy-five thousand I made from Roman’s portrait and the last two paintings I sold to Mr. Lubelli. Now, I’m going to get another fifty.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice breathy with excitement. “That’s very generous.”
“Are you sure you want to sell them at a fixed price? I could revert to a commission-based structure?—”
“No,” I blurt. “I’m happy with what I’m getting.”
I force back memories of that disastrous contract I signed with Lafayette and what we had to do to make him drop the criminal charges. If my career takes off, I can ask for a higher price, but this amount is already beyond my wildest expectations.
Mr. Lubelli extracts some papers and glances around for a clean surface. He strolls to the kitchen area and sets down his folder. “If you’d like to sign these two contracts, I can have the paintings wrapped up and delivered to the gallery.”
Wiping my grubby hands on my apron, I trudge across the room and stifle a yawn. As soon as Mr. Lubelli leaves, I’m going to retreat to the back room for a nap.
* * *
Hours later, I wake with Roman curled at my back, his arm draped over my waist. One of his hands cups my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth across my nipple.
“Thank you for the mask,” I murmur.
“You’re welcome, baby.”
“How do you do it?”
“What?”
“You always know my heart’s desire.”
He kisses my neck. “You’re my obsession. Everything I learn about you is a revelation. Making you happy is an addiction I never want to lose.”
I snuggle into his chest, my body warming at his touch. “What time is it?”
“Eight.”
“At night?”
He chuckles. “Yeah.”
I yawn. “Damn. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep for so long.”
He nuzzles my shoulder. “You’ve had a lot on your mind. I’m glad you got the chance to rest.”
Another yawn escapes my throat. “I sold two paintings today. Mr. Lubelli wanted to buy a third, but he said you might want it for yourself.”
“The other portrait?” Roman asks.
“Uh-huh.”
“Fuck yes,” he growls and peppers my neck with soft kisses. “I’ll get a copy of the same art agreement as before.”
“Don’t be silly.” I turn around in his embrace and melt into his smile. “It’s a gift. Just like that mask.”
Roman’s features form a deep frown. “No woman has ever given me such a valuable gift.”
“Good, then I’ll be the first.”
Something flickers across his features. A mix of frustration, tinged with guilt. “How are you ever going to have a thriving art career if you keep giving away your paintings?”
I lean into him and kiss him on the lips. “How much money have you spent on me?”
