“Are you married?” She put her hands up. “I should have asked this last night—”
“No, I’m not. Marriage is for a different kind of man than me.”
“Oh.”
Out on the street, a couple of cars crunched by them, the light down at the intersection having turned green. As the wind strengthened, she shivered.
“Where do you live,” he said after a moment. Like he really didn’t want to know.
“Why did you waste the time meeting me here.”
“You’re cold. Where’s your car—”
“Answer me,” she shot back.
Dev put his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and stretched his chest forward like he was realigning his back. Then his eyes traveled around, focusing over the top of her head.
“Why did you waste our time,” she repeated.
“Because no matter how much I tried to talk myself out of it, I couldn’t not see you.” He lowered his stare to her face. “I can’t get you out of my mind.”
Lyric opened her mouth. Closed it. And that was when his eyes dropped lower… and stayed on her lips.
“So what do we do now,” she murmured.
Dev stepped in closer to her, his arm moving around her waist. As he tilted her backwards, she put her hands up to his shoulders.
“You tell me,” he said.
“Who else have you told,” Shuli breathed.
Across his bedroom, L.W. kept going, moving to the flat wall by the bathroom door. He stopped in front of yet another painting.
“Rothko,” he murmured.
Shuli frowned. “You know the artist?”
“Of course. And don’t sound so surprised.”
“I just thought between polishing your ego and judging people, you didn’t have a lot of time for art history.”
“You are such an asshole.” Except the tone was mild. “And you have a lot of net worth on these walls. Downstairs, too. That Pollock in the foyer is my favorite.”
“My parents collected European Old Masters. I do not.”
L.W. glanced over. “Parental problems, too, huh.”
Shuli was not touching that one. “Who else have you told about your eyes.”
“Nobody.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Shuli measured the male in a new way. The heir to the throne was still monstrously strong, even injured and with that crutch, definitely not the kind of thing anyone would want to meet in a dark alley. But shit.
He shook his head. “Jesus. Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s been coming over the last year. And I’m only telling you—”
“Because you want me to make sure you don’t get killed out in the field.”
