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Mrs. Kendall’s house is quiet when I finally pull up. Not a single car in sight, and no lights on through the vacant windows. Gathering my purse and coffee in hand, I set about planning out my day. Being away left my mind pondering over the work that still needs to be done, and the painting I left sitting silent in the studio.
It isn’t until I’m inside my make-shift studio, setting down my things, that a noise stops me in my tracks. My eyes shift slowly in the direction it came from.“Hello?”
Expecting it to be Knox, since he is usually the first person to arrive, I almost drop my coffee seeing Dante standing in the doorway.
“Jesus Christ, Dante,” I gasp a bit breathlessly with my free hand over my heart as I try to collect myself. “What are you doing here so early?”
He frowns slightly. “Didn’t Knox say I wanted to talk to you about a business proposition?”
With my heart still galloping in my chest—and not just from being surprised by his sudden appearance—I set my coffee on a board stretched across two sawhorses that acts as my work station.
Of course, this would be about business. How silly of me to think it was otherwise.
I turn around slowly, trying my best not to notice how hot he looks this morning. Instead of his usual suit and tie, Dante is wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that fit him like a glove and a black pullover sweater that emphasizes his broad shoulders and well-developed pecs.
“Sort of,” I finally answer when I can drag my eyes off him. “Knox did tell me you wanted to speak with me, just not in great detail.” I try to hide my disappointment as I give him a warning glare. “This better not be about the house, again.”
His expression doesn’t change. “It’s not. Actually, I want to commission some of your art. It’s for a client of mine.”
My mouth drops open and I snap it shut quickly. This is not what I expected to hear. Narrowing my eyes, I study his face. He looks serious enough, but then the man always looks serious. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen a smile on his face.
“Why?” I finally ask.
He raises an eyebrow, then strolls further into the room. “Have any more of that coffee?” he asks, pointing to my cup.
“Obviously not since I bought it on the way here,” I chide, but then instantly feel guilty for being so rude. “I can put on a pot, though. I’ll drink more when this is gone anyway.”
I didn’t expect him to follow me through the house and into the kitchen, but he does. While I set up the coffee pot, Dante leans against the kitchen counter, watching me. Having his eyes on me like this is nerve-wracking. When I shoot a sideways glance his way, I catch him staring at my ass. Tingles course through my body and along every nerve with the realization.
“You didn’t have to come in here, you know. I would have brought it to you when it was ready.”
“I know.”
That’s it? That’s his only response? I frown at him and the corner of his mouth lifts in a wry smile. The only sound in the house is the coffee pot percolating. Although the kitchen is a fair size, it feels much smaller with Dante in the room.
“So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?” I ask into the uncomfortable quiet. “Well, I mean, how many paintings are you looking for?”
He crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at me. “Quite a few. It’s a huge job, Kylie.”
Dante’s eyes drop to my mouth where I’m chewing my bottom lip. Instantly, I stop, then run my tongue over it to soothe the tender skin. His eyes grow darker, and I swear I see hunger shining in their depths.
I shake my head and try to keep my mind focused on the conversation. “I just don’t think I have the time. There’s still the murals here to finish, plus I need to get back to my studio in New Orleans.”
“Did I tell you my client will pay top dollar?” Dante says, his voice as smooth as velvet. This must be the tone he uses on prospective clients. It’s almost hypnotic. I nearly agree before I catch myself. But before I can say anything, he spouts off a price that has me raising my eyebrows in surprise.
“That’s for each painting,” Dante says with a half grin. “Not the entire project.”
Holy shit, that’s a fortune. That’s at least twice my going rate. I would be an idiot to turn down such a lucrative offer.
An idea pops into my mind and I cock my head to the side. Stella needs money, but she won’t take handouts. Especially from me since she thinks I’ve done too much for her already. This amount will not only get her the space she wants, but will allow a large donation to go towards the youth center portion she is trying to fund. I was already going to donate to that, and this is the perfect opportunity to do so.
“Okay,” I say slowly. “I’ll take the job.But,” I emphasize, “I want the payment to go to my friend Stella… anonymously.”
His eyebrows raise in surprise and then he frowns. “Why the hell would you give so much money away?”
“My friend needs it more than I do,” I say defensively, jutting my chin out in defiance.
He looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Straightening, he drops his arms to his sides and walks toward me. “Do you have one ounce of self-interest in your body?”
