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"It spoils the effect." Keying in his code, he pushed open the door to a wide-open foyer with pastel silk wallpaper.
"I wouldn’t have pictured this for you."
"Why not?" He asked as he led the way through the hallway and into a sunken living room.
"Now, this is you." An electronic fire was blazing in the wide hearth that dominated one corner of the room. The sofas were bronze and looked as soft as butter. The floor to ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the city, the lights dazzling. "No TV?"
"I have a theater on the upper level. The idea is to have this as a family room where people can talk without distraction. There are no TVs in the bedrooms either. Drink?"
"Fine." Slipping out of the strappy sandals, she wandered around the wide and spacious room, admiring the paintings on the wall. "Victorian?" She gestured to the exquisite center table.
"You have an eye." He came back with the glass of pale gold liquid and handed it to her.
"Being Michelle’s daughter, you get to know these things. My mother is quite the connoisseur. Are all the apartments like this?”
Leaning against the marble fireplace, he studied her for a few seconds. His first thought was to hustle her upstairs and strip off her clothes, but he could wait. “No, tailor made for the individual’s tastes.” He took a sip of the wine.
“The privilege of being rich”
“Precisely.” A smile played around his sensuous lips that had her nipples tightening. The man was lethal. “You can relate.”
“I live in a dumpy apartment.”
“By choice. Your mother is a famous actress and your Dad was a lawyer, a very successful one, and you’re a bestselling author.”
“I don’t flaunt my wealth.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Are you Implying that I do?”
She shrugged slender shoulders. “To each his own.” She wandered restlessly over to a particularly lovely painting of a family of four gathered around a blazing fire. “Very eye-catching. I don’t recognize the artist.”
“He’s standing right here.”
Her head swiveled around to stare at him, a frown on her brow. “You paint?”
“In my spare time.” He watched in amusement and slight trepidation as she turned back to study the painting in detail. He was nervous as he realized that her opinion meant the world to him.
“It’s good. So good I can feel the heat from the fire.” She took in a breath as she stared at the painting. A cabin was in the background and there were trees and flowers surrounding the plain log building. Something lodged inside her throat and she couldn’t identify the emotions roiling inside her chest.
“Thanks.”
She turned to him slowly. “Is it just a hobby?”
“Just a hobby.” He played with the stem of his glass and shifted off the mantle. “I started painting when I was eight as a way to cope. Apparently, I have a penchant for it.”
“I'd say this is more than a penchant.” She turned to look at the painting again. “Is this the only one?”
“There’re several scattered around the apartment and I’ve painted for friends and my Dad. He has a room dedicated to them. Pretty embarrassing.”
She faced him again and noticed him blushing.
“He’s proud as he should be. You could make a living and give Jackson a run for his money.”
“I think I told him that.” He finished the wine. “Fortunately for him, I’m more interested in investing in properties. Shall we?”
With a nod, she put away the glass and followed him from the room.
“Would you like the tour?”
