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"Is that really what you want?"
She laughed huskily. "If you’d asked me that a couple of days ago, I would have said, hell no. Now that it could be happening, I have to say yes."
*****
She almost didn’t go. Her mother had managed to twist her arm and the excuse that she had work to do hadn’t made a difference. "You might see something you like. I’ve been to that apartment of yours, and darling, I have to say I can’t believe you’re my daughter."
"I hate clutter."
"Your walls are bare and the furnishings are bland."
"They are furnishings and quite sturdy. It's just a place to crash, I don't see why I have to spend money buying things to impress people I don't even like in my space."
"It's called investment."
So, she’d capitulated. She hated dressing up and putting makeup on, but once again, she’d done it for her mother. The things she did for that woman. Now she was in a room surrounded by the city's elite and rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous.
The tinkle of glasses and the muted conversations in the cavernous room was a perfect background for the paintings on the walls.
Her dress of emerald silk was close-fitting and highlighted her slender curves. Her natural curls were somewhat tamed into one long braid over her left shoulder and she was wearing diamond earrings. Her date, someone she’d called up at the last minute, was glued to her side and she was getting annoyed at his constant fawning over her.
She hadn’t wanted to arrive alone as she hated that guys came onto her when that happened, but Peter was getting on her nerves.
"This one definitely has potential. I wish you’d allow me to buy it for you."
"I can-"
"Why don't you go and mingle? I need to talk to Macayla." The rude and arrogant voice had her stiffening her shoulders.
She’d wanted to get rid of Peter, but on her own terms. Turning to face him, she felt a jolt to her nervous system at the look of him. He was wearing a thin blue sweater that hugged his wide chest and shoulders perfectly.
His dirty blonde hair was brushed back from his handsome face and curled around his shoulders. "Peter was just about to buy me this painting." She murmured, sliding a hand through the man's arm.
"You were about to tell him you can buy your own." Jerking his head, Brady gave the man a hard look that had him shifting. "Go and mingle, will you?" He repeated, green eyes sparkling dangerously.
To her disgust, Peter scuttled away immediately.
"Now that you’ve scared away my date, what the hell do you want?" She asked as she snagged a flute of champagne.
"Should you be drinking?"
"It's only one glass and I’m thirsty. Besides, I don’t know if I’m pregnant yet.”
Taking her arm, he guided her over to the long trestle table where the buffet was on display. Letting go of her, he picked up a plate and started with the shrimp. "You haven’t called."
"There’s nothing to report yet." She told herself it was the boredom that had her so happy to see him, nothing more.
"You could still call." He handed her the plate and she took it automatically.
"And say what?"
He was heaping food on another plate, but stopped to give her an amused look. "Shoot the breeze, find out how I’m doing. Things like that."
"I don't do small talk." Putting her glass down, she speared a plump shrimp and plopped it into her mouth.
"It wouldn’t be small talk." Jerking his head, he indicated an empty sofa for them to go and sit. "Come back with me to my place tonight."
She stared at him as she sat. "Why?"
