Yes, it’s pierced, Sinclair.
“Listen.” He took hold of my wrist, and I flinched but didn’t pull out of his grip. “I didn’t pay for us to show off or whatever, or because I think you can’t afford to carry your own weight. I know you can.” He stroked his thumb over the pulse point at the inside of my wrist. I shivered.
“Are you sure of that?” I challenged him.
“Yes, I am. I just wanted to treat you to breakfast, but I should have asked you first. I’m sorry for overstepping.”
I bit my lip and stared up at him. If we hadn’t been in this musty hallway where we could be disturbed any minute, I would have dragged him down for a kiss.
God, I wanted to kiss him so badly.
“Want to check out the exhibition now?” I asked instead and let go of his arm.
“Yeah.” I nodded at his response and stalked past him or I was sure I’d prove how shoddy my self-restraint is and succumb to my urge to kiss him.
Fox Cawley’s work was the highlight of the museum. I loved the larger-than-life statues Taran Atax had loaned them—especially as some of them were raunchy and exactly to my taste. Lewis was fascinated by an enormous painting in shades of blood red.
It showed Queen Ailis, ruler of the Kelpies, and was morbidly fascinating.
We sat on the plain wooden bench and looked at the painting for a long time. One of the best things about being here with Lew was discussing the art with him. It gave me an innocent reason to look at him, and I loved learning how he thought and which pieces moved him.
He’s so fucking smart.
It didn’t surprise me at all, but I knew he’d never seen himself that way. I was attracted to his brain as much as I was to his body.
“I really want to show you the garden,” he told me as we left the East Wing.
We’d returned to look at Fox Cawley’s art pieces a bit more, having both been fascinated by them.
“It’s gorgeous in summer, but I think it’s still worth taking a turn around. And we still need to take a few more pictures.”
My cheeks heated. “Right, I’d forgotten about that.”
It was so unusual for me to forget about making my next post. I should have been unsettled by how much being an influencer shaped my life but couldn’t bring myself to think about it. My work dominated my life. My days revolved around making content and silly metrics like reach and likes. But reach meant money and hardly anything was a bigger motivator to get another post out, and another, then one more, than my dwindling bank balance.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been to a museum, though. And as much as I racked my brains, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed myself.
“There’s a maze at the end of the garden,” Lew explained as we wandered along a winding path lined with hedges.
Gravel crunched under our soles. I’d noticed that he hardly ever wore shoes, but he had put a pair on for the day.
“We can check it out later, but I think we should take the pictures first.” He glanced around to see if we were alone, then dragged me down a side path.
“This is perfect,” he murmured and turned to face me. It took my brain a moment to catch up to the feel of Lewis looming over me. He was so close the heat of his big body seeped into mine. A little gasp escaped me when he raised a hand to my face.
“I don’t remember these,” he whispered, touching a fingertip to the freckles on my nose. “You’d think I would.” His eyes narrowed as if an old wound plagued him.
“They got a lot more pronounced in Bali. All the sun, I guess.” My voice was low as I watched him scrutinise me.
Lewis hummed. “They suit you so well.”
“Thanks.”
What the fuck am I supposed to say?
“Let’s take some more pictures for your account, okay? I have an idea I want to run past you.”
Oh shit, yeah, the pictures.
