Nothing would have been better than watching her, thoughtfully moving between the massive sculptures hanging from the walls, explaining the nature and concepts that made the acclaimed work of El Anatsui unique. He would have watched the crowd hanging on her every word, responding as if on cue to her quips and dramatic pauses.
If he had been there.
“The lecture ended ten minutes ago. If you have a ticket to the VIP luncheon, I can escort you to where it is located,” explained a woman with a short afro and kind eyes.
Folding the pamphlet, Julian stuffed it into his back pocket and headed toward the exhibit hall where the lecture had occurred.
Julian inhaled sharply. Knowing that Mena would be pissed that he hadn’t made it in time to see her lecture. The last thing he needed was to cause more tension between them. His unexpected questions about marriage had already introduced uneasiness into their relationship.
Zigzagging through the crowd of museum patrons flooding the wide expanse of the museum lobby, he darted toward the entrance to the lecture hall. Hordes of guests dressed in expensive business suits roamed outside the room, the buzz of excited discussions filling the air. He searched the crowd for her face. Awkwardness settled within him as several minutes passed. He couldn’t stand here all day, but he was reluctant to leave. Perhaps she’d already left, and he’d missed the opportunity to see her.
Taking a wide arc around the crowd, Julian slipped along the wall and stepped into the exhibit hall.
“You missed it,” Mena said, a frown etched into her forehead as she jerked her purse open and stuffed her cell phone inside.
Julian tensed. He’d expected her anger. But, he still wasn’t prepared for the ire wafting from her. “I’m sorry. Traffic was bad, but I got the mask. It looks good on the wall behind the couch.”
“Wait a minute.” Mena’s dark eyes bored holes through him. “Instead of dropping the mask off and getting over here as fast as you could, you took the time to hang it on the wall?”
Julian’s mind went blank. Words eluded him as a sliver of panic danced across his skin. He’d been in tight spots before. He’d been cornered behind enemy lines, talking his way out of danger with terrorists. He’d been interrogated about rogue actions by the best naval lawyers, maneuvering through their questions without a hint of worry. But Mena’s question stopped him in his tracks. What the fuck had he been thinking? He didn’t know. Maybe he’d hoped having the mask hanging on the wall when she got home would make up for him missing her lecture?
“You thought that was more important to me than being here as I gave the most important presentation of my career. Julian … for a smart guy, you missed it this time,” Mena said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I know,” Julian said, stepping toward her. “But you didn’t need me here. You knew that presentation inside and out. I know you knocked it out the park.”
“You’re right. I did. Maybe I didn’t need you here, but damn it, I wanted to look in the crowd and see your face. Your face was the only one I kept searching for, and you weren’t here,” Mena said, pressing a finger into his chest.
The touch sent a jolt of desire through him, and he had to stifle the smile that would push her over the edge. As mad as she was, with that one touch, he felt every ounce of her love for him. Enough to give him confidence that this was just a speed bump on their relationship road. They were finally getting a chance to argue and have conflicts like a normal couple, without the threat of danger looming around every corner.
Despite himself, Julian was enjoying this argument.
“I’m here now,” Julian said, reducing the space between them to mere inches. Mena didn’t step away. Her eyes never left his, locked in a defiant stare as she kept up her steely resolve.
Julian leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek, then turned to kiss her other cheek before pressing his mouth against hers. Mena didn’t pull away, allowing him to part her lips with his tongue and taste the sweetness of her. The kiss lingered, growing more passionate. Their bodies remained separated by a gap that radiated magnetic attraction and desire. The small chasm between them fueled the intensity of the kiss. A feverish crescendo welled within him, sending his body temperature through the roof as his lips blazed across hers.
Julian fought the urge to pull her into his arms, knowing she’d resist him. Her anger was as evident in that kiss as her love. Stepping back, Julian adopted a sheepish smile. “You forgive me?”
Mena closed her eyes, her chest heaving from the exertion of resisting him. He could feel the inner tug-of-war she must be going through—the disappointment of his absence clashing with the excitement of having him here … finally.
Opening her eyes, she unfolded her arms.
“No,” Mena said, then stepped around him and walked out of the room.
No?
Julian looked through the glass ceiling at the angry thunderheads swirling in the charcoal sky. Dragging a hand down his face, he turned to watch Mena addressing a group of VIP guests. Her demeanor changed as she wowed them, then led them down the hallway without a backward glance at him.
Julian slumped down into one of the empty chairs and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket.
Dialing the number, he placed the phone to his ear.
“How’d you know I’d still be up? Do you realize it’s 3 a.m. here?” Kendrick asked, sounding wide awake.
“Whatever, didn’t you just call me an hour ago?” Julian asked.
“Two hours. What’s up?” Kendrick asked.
“I blew it. Mena’s pissed,” Julian said.
