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Chapter Ten
What are you working on? May I see it?" Everett asked a half hour later.
She'd soaked in the tub until the water started to cool and then hurried to get out and dressed when she remembered the fact Everett was in her apartment with the draped painting of himself.
Would he peek to see what was under the covering? Respect her privacy?
His question was her answer, and her toes curled into the carpet in response. Honorable men were hard to come by, and had he peeked, he wouldn't have been the first to ignore her request to do whatever they wanted. "It's... I don't like showing my work until I'm ready." Her face felt hot when she swiped a hand over her cheek to dislodge a hair tickling her mouth.
She had multiple paintings scattered all over her apartment, but that was the only one that was draped. Isabel left the island stool where she’d sat finishing up the toast and egg he'd fixed for her breakfast and returned to the couch.
She'd no sooner sat down than Everett joined her, physically shifting her so that he sat behind her. Once she settled, his large hands descended on her shoulders and gently rubbed. With a low gasp, she moaned as he pressed and massaged the tight muscles.
"That is a sound I'd like to hear more of," he murmured into her ear.
Her body hummed as though from a surge of electricity, and an embarrassed laugh huffed from her chest. "I think we both know that's not a good idea."
She sank her teeth into her lower lip and bit down hard when he found a particularly tight spot, scrunching her face up in an effort to stay silent when it felt like her bones and muscles melted at his touch.
"I disagree. I remember it as a very good idea."
Still in la-la-Everett-land, she shrugged. He could disagree all he liked but it didn't change facts.
"Lean back."
"You're very bossy," she said, sliding a glare at him and then wishing she hadn't. Why did the man have to look so good? Appeal in so many ways? Take care of her? She loved getting pampered. She wasn’t sure what love language pampering fell under, but it was definitely hers. Cuddling, hair stroking, back rubs. It was a struggle not to purr when he did those things.
Eyes closed, she let Everett have his way, reminding herself that their situation was temporary.
It would be a whole lot easier if Everett was an unattractive, uncaring bore. But he wasn’t. And with every touch and squeeze and brush of his fingertips, she fell deeper under his spell.
"Isabel, we need to talk."
"Uh-uh. Nothing good ever comes from those words."
He chuckled at her mumbling, grumbling tone, but the gentle squeeze of her shoulders told her he meant business.
"I want you to come to New York with me."
Her entire body froze. "What?"
With one last squeeze of her shoulders, he gently pushed her forward before pressing her back to the couch so that she faced him.
"I want you," he said softly, staring deeply into her eyes, "to come to New York with me."
The first three little words and the heat in his gaze sent a shiver through her before the rest of them resonated. He wasn't joking. "To New York?" She repeated the words in a desperate bid to get her brain to work.
"Yes."
"But…Everett, I'mnotpregnant. We can get the divorce now. Give me the papers and I'll sign them. I'm sure your attorney has probably drawn them up already." A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she tilted her head to one side. "Am I right?"
"He did, not because I asked him to, and not to my satisfaction,” he added without further explanation.
He seemed to think the clarification was important, and maybe it was to him, but for her? "What was it you told me? Their job is to look out for your best interests? I'm sure he's anxious to get you out of the mess we created...." Her words trailed off because obviously Everett's best interests did not lie with her.
He lifted his hand and gently cupped her chin, rubbing his thumb over her lips.
"I want to give you a Christmas present."
