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“You’re supposed to be getting to know her,” he prodded.
I snorted. “I don’t need to know anything else about her. Believe me when I say she certainly feels the same about me. If she’s sad I didn’t show up, it’s only because she had to spend her own money at whatever shop she planned to drag me to afterwards.”
“Ivan thinks you’re shirking your responsibilities,” he said, hurrying to assure me he didn’t agree. “I just wish you would have told me so I wouldn’t be stuck in the middle.”
“Sorry,” I sighed, then grimaced. “But he should know not to worry. When have I ever not kept my word?” When Yuri shrugged, since there was no instance I’d ever shirked my duties to the family, I lost my steam. “I really didn’t want to spend any more time with her,” I admitted. “Not when we’ll be stuck together for life.”
He told me to buck up, and then slid off his barstool. “I’ve got clients tomorrow. See you on Sunday.”
I jumped up, following him down the hall, trying to steer him toward the pool where there might still be some action. I didn’t want to go home yet; I had been looking forward to spending more time with my kid brother, the only one who still commiserated with me just a little.
Then I caught a flash of red as we passed the conference rooms, halting me in my tracks. Theresa was in there, packing up her unsold art. Surprisingly, seeing that the pieces were still available didn’t give me any satisfaction, but watching her lean down to carefully put one in an open suitcase did. God, she was lush.
“On second thought, yeah, see you on Sunday,” I said, eyes glued to the woman I really wanted to spend time with. Any unwanted thoughts of my forced fiancée scattered like dust in a brisk ocean breeze.
Yuri followed my gaze and rolled his eyes when he saw Theresa, then nodded appreciatively as he looked her up and down. For some bizarre reason, it made me want to punch him in the face, something I’d never wanted to do before. Even when he was an irritating little brat, always following us everywhere, I was the one defending him against Ivan and Nikolai. But the way he looked at my woman made my hands curl into fists.
“Have fun,” he said, finally grinning at me. “I guess you probably need to store up some good memories.”
I gave him a playful shove, already forgiving his lingering stare. I couldn’t blame him since Theresa was so beautiful, but he’d need to keep it under control if… I stopped myself. Nothing would come of this, not even if she softened her disdain toward me. I was due to be shackled to someone else.
Forcing those foul thoughts aside, I sidled into the conference room, determined to get Theresa to change her mind about me. Or at least work her up to the point she wanted to throw herself at me in a rage. She captured all my attention, just like when she was feverishly trying to beat me at cards, and when she turned and noticed me, her face lifted before it rearranged itself into a frown. I grinned and waved my hand at the frames she had stacked on the table.
“How was the show? I bet you wish you gave me an invitation after all.”
There was a flicker of hurt underneath her death glare, but she quickly shrugged it off and with a huff, turned back to her work without a word. I decided to change tack since she refused to rise to my bait.
“Seriously, though. I think your art is good, and I really would like to buy some for my office,” I told her, easing closer until I was right behind her.
I could have rested my chin on top of her glossy hair, and quietly breathed her in, smiling at the scent of raspberries and vanilla. As sophisticated as she looked, I expected some heady, expensive perfume, but she smelled as fresh as a summer picnic. I had a good feeling she’d be just as delicious.
She whirled around and stifled a gasp when she realized how close I was. Leaning back against the table, she glared up at me, then yanked the cloth over the paintings she hadn’t put away yet. One delicate eyebrow raised as she pursed her full lips into a scowl. Damn, did this woman ever hate me.
“Is that so?”
I nodded. “It is.”
“Then describe just one painting from memory,” she demanded. “I doubt you can since it definitely wasn’t them you were checking out earlier.”
Her cheeks blazed as I let my gaze slowly pass down her body and back up to lock with her dark doe eyes. “I appreciate beauty in all its forms.” Before she could gag on that cringey line, I started describing the paintings I’d been interested in before she pulled her attitude. “I thought your oil triptych in the blue, yellow, and green shades would be perfect for the spot I’m thinking of. It’s a dark office with a lot of masculine energy so I thought your flowers would soften and brighten it up.”
Watching her jaw drop was payment enough for her rudeness, but the sparkle in her eyes sealed the deal for me. I had to have this woman. At least a dozen different emotions passed across her face, and I wanted to delve into each one to find out what was at Theresa’s core. She finally settled on at least begrudging acceptance and flung the cover off her paintings.
“These?” she asked, lining up the paintings I described. “This is actually one of my favorite sets I’ve done.”
“I’d love to see the others,” I told her seriously. Up close, they were better than I remembered, with sure, confident brush strokes without being heavy handed. I told her so and then reached out to place my finger on her chin, gently closing her mouth for her. “Surely you’ve been complimented on your art before?”
She didn’t reel away from my touch and just the feel of her soft skin under my index finger raised an urgent need in me.
“I’m just not sure if you’re still hitting on me or not,” she said with a downward glance.
“I’m definitely hitting on you, Theresa, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being sincere about the paintings.” Her soft intake of breath was music to me. “You kind of owe me since you cleaned me out at the card game.”
She puckered up her mouth as if fighting a smile. “Fine, go ahead and look at them, then.”
I pointed to a watercolor ocean scene that looked to be Boston Harbor if I wasn’t mistaken. “And you excel at watercolor too, a completely different discipline.”
She was at war with herself, trying to decide if she could trust me or not. Of course sheshouldn’t, but she could, because every word out of my mouth was the truth. She finally relaxed with a slight shrug and smiled up at me, a gift I didn’t deserve.
