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‘My business with Reiko is private. You’re interrupting.’
The two men squared off, hostility bristling between them.
With a sigh, she took her guardian’s arm. ‘It’s okay, Trevor. I’ll be up shortly.’
Desperate that he didn’t reveal anything to Damion, she walked him out of the room and into the hallway. As she mounted the first of the worn carpeted stairs, she saw Damion snatch his phone from his pocket.
She tried to keep her panic down. ‘Is it worth me asking who you’re calling? Your dungeon-keeper, perhaps? Are you sending for your personal guillotine to finish us off?’
‘I was about to arrange to have a list of my guests sent to you, but my guillotine can be arranged if that is how you prefer to conclude our business?’ Dark brows winged in a mocking query.
Damion saw relief race over Reiko’s face before she concealed it.
The swiftness with which she regained her composure surprised him. The Reiko he’d known had worn her feelings on her sleeve. She’d been open, carefree and sexy as hell with it—
Correction … the Reiko he’d thought he’d known …
His jaw tightened as his gaze swung between the pair in front of him. He noted the familiarity between them, the ease with which they spoke, and the whole tableau filled him with distaste. It was obvious Ashton was her latest lover.
An annoying twinge surfaced inside Damion, tightening even further when Reiko murmured a response to Ashton as he leaned his body even closer to hers.
Damion had never craved attention, never sought it for the purpose of spotlighting himself—even though his life seemed to fascinate the tabloid press and the endlessly vacuous social media. But in that moment Damion admitted he didn’t like being ignored. In fact he hated it. He wanted to growl, to shout and draw Reiko Kagawa’s attention from the older man. Instead he gritted his teeth and watched as they mounted the stairs and disappeared into the upper hallway, not once looking back.
Swallowing the distinct taste of displeasure that coated his mouth, Damion shoved his hand through his hair. He was seriously considering storming up the stairs when Reiko reappeared alone. The upper-hallway light cast her silhouette in soft relief. Through the material of her dress, Damion traced her shapely legs to where they met at that triangular gap that had once so fascinated him.
Heat slammed into his chest as he recalled how he’d been able to slip his fingers inside her without the smallest need to part her thighs.
Lost momentarily in the past, he let his gaze drift upward, over her curvy hips to the small indentation of her waist where she’d planted her hands. His hands could encompass that small waist. Easily. She’d always melted into his arms when he’d done just that.
‘So what now?’ she asked.
‘Come down here,’ he instructed hoarsely.
Catching and killing his wayward thoughts, he shoved his hands into his pockets. She was midway down the steps when he noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes. Dainty feet with nails painted a soft peach clashed with the heavy make-up and scarlet lips.
He frowned. ‘Are you and Ashton lovers?’ he asked, before the question was fully formed in his mind.
Surprise flared in her eyes. A charge of heated energy arced between them. That familiar twinge struck deep, and for the life of him he couldn’t dismiss it.
‘I fail to see what business that is of yours.’
‘I wouldn’t want him causing problems with your pursuit of the paintings.’
‘He won’t be a problem.’
‘Bien. Give me your phone number.’
‘Why?’
‘So I can text you the list of names attending my exhibition. Be ready to leave for Paris when I return in the morning.’
‘You’re not afraid I’ll vanish once you leave?’ she mocked.
‘No. Because you’ve revealed another weakness.’
Her eyes, a unique hazel that was more brown than green, remained unreadable despite the rapid pulse beating at the base of her slender throat.
‘By all means, enlighten me.’
