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Thorne nodded. “This asshole was harassing my friend.”
“Is this true, sir?” the man asked Dash.
“Yes.”
“He’s a fucking whore,” the asshole yelled as he finally pulled himself up off the floor. “That’s all he is.”
“Get him out of here,” Thorne ordered.
The other guards began dragging the man out. He shook them off and straightened his suit. “I’m going,” he announced as if he had a choice. The guards followed him toward the door.
When Dash looked away from the asshole, he saw the museum director rushing toward Thorne. “Are you all right, Mr. Shipton?”
No one seemed to care that Thorne had punched the man, and neither the guards nor the director appeared to give any credence to what the asshole said. Thorne had power, and people did what he said. Dash had to admit it was a hell of a turn-on, that and the fact that Thorne had once again defended Dash. Maybe he truly did see Dash as more than an employee.
“Sir, are you okay?” the director asked.
Dash nodded. “I’m fine.”
“You weren’t injured? You’re certain?”
“No, he only threatened me. I’m truly fine.”
“This isn’t the first time he’s caused trouble here. I regret that I allowed him to return.”
“Apology accepted,” Thorne said, before Dash had a chance to respond.
“If you two are truly all right, I’ll do my best to minimize the interest in this incident and continue with our evening.”
Dash smiled at her. “By all means. The last thing I’d want to do is take away from the art. These paintings are exquisite.”
“Thank you, sir. We’re proud to have them.”
Thorne leaned closer to Dash as she walked away. “Would you like one?”
Dash was still trying to sort out what had just happened. “Would I… What?”
“Want a painting?”
The least expensive one Dash had seen cost several hundred thousand dollars. “You can’t buy me a painting.”
“I assure you I can.”
“No, I mean I won’t let you.”
“Then pick out one for my apartment.”
He’d still be buying it for Dash though, wouldn’t he? “Thorne?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do it.”
His body reacted to Thorne’s tone. Thorne high on his own power was way too sexy. He glanced to the side and saw Lauren, Thorne’s assistant, watching them. Dash stepped back. “I think we’re being obvious.”
“I think I don’t care.”
“I think you’ve had a lot of champagne.”
Thorne waved dismissingly. “I’m going to buy a painting and take you home before anyone else makes me so mad I want to rip someone’s fucking head off.”
Dash laid a hand on Thorne’s arm. “I’m fine, really.”
“No one has the right to treat you like you’re property. You provide a service for money. So do I.”
Did Thorne have to make Dash fall even harder for him? “It’s different.”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“Thank you for being so enlightened.”
“Anytime, my dear.” Thorne sketched a bow.
“People are watching.”
Thorne shook his head. “Lauren is watching. If she hasn’t figured us out by now, she’s not the woman I think she is.”
Thorne was far too gorgeous when he smiled. “Go buy a painting.”
“This one?” Thorne gestured toward the seascape in front of them.
Dash shook his head. “No, the one with the sailboat on the lake.” Dash pointed across the room.
“Sold,” Thorne declared.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
After discarding jackets, vests, bowties, and shoes—the most comfortable dress shoes Dash had ever owned—Thorne and Dash reclined on Thorne’s couch with glasses of whiskey. Dash agreed to abandon his usual rule of not drinking while working as long as Thorne didn’t want anything kinky.
Thorne pouted. “I was hoping we could play pirate mutiny. But instead of walking the plank…”
Dash shook his head. “You’re really drunk.”
Thorne giggled, proving Dash’s point. “Peggy’s a very wise woman.”
Dash tried to follow Thorne’s line of thinking. “Peggy? The museum director?”
He nodded. “She buys good champagne, so everyone drinks. Drunk people buy paintings. They often regret it later, but returns aren’t accepted.” He laughed so hard he actually gripped his sides, but a few seconds later, he looked up at Dash, expression far more serious.
“Was Collins a former client?”
“The man you punched?” Dash had never known his name.
Thorne nodded.
“I only saw him once.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“Not seriously, but he…wasn’t kind.”
The fire that had been in Thorne’s eyes when he’d punched Collins returned. “I have connections. I could get him disbarred.”
As much as Thorne’s protectiveness turned him on, Dash didn’t want him to do that. “I’m not a princess in need of a knight.”
Thorne fingered one of his shirt buttons. “You sure as hell could pass for a prince all dressed up like this.”
It was a bad sign that Dash loved Thorne’s drunken flattery. “Kiss me.”
Thorne did, soft and sweet, taking his time, touching Dash so gently it was more a caress of lips than a kiss. There was no wild rush of passion, yet when Thorne pulled back, Dash wanted nothing more than to be fucked by him. No, that wasn’t right. He wanted Thorne to make love to him because that would erase the ugliness of the night. Dash rarely hated what he did, but that night, that odious bastard Collins had made him ashamed. Thorne could erase the feeling.
