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Chapter Eight
Sometimes a person just knows when someone is watching them, and although she hadn’t heard a sound, Alani felt a presence hovering behind her. When she spared a quick look over her shoulder, hands busy kneading her clay, she let out a soft gasp at Ivo’s hulking frame in the doorway.
“Ivo!”
“I’m sorry,” he said hastily, his palms up in surrender as she straightened. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I didn’t want to interrupt you either.”
She rolled out the clump of clay, irritably blowing a loose bit of hair from her face. “Well, it’s a little late for that.”
“I’m sorry.”
She continued to work, almost as if paying him no attention would send him away. Unfortunately, Alani just wasn’t a rude enough person to carry on like that for long. Drawing in a deep breath, she looked at him again, still kneading. “What are you doing here?”
“Besides watching a master at work?” He offered a lopsided grin, one that made her stomach clench with unwelcome excitement. It must have been a good two weeks since she’d seen him at her apartment that night, and as much as she hated to admit it, Alani had almost wished she’d run into him again.
She knew she couldn’t seek him out—not after what he had done—but a part of her kept hoping she’d accidentally bump into him at the grocery store, or they would run into each other in front of the gallery—something. She couldn’t explain why she wanted to see him again, yet there it was, that need to look into his gorgeous dark eyes and read his life story.
So, while she put on an air of annoyance, inside that little part of her eager to see him again was doing cartwheels.
“Ivo, I’m really busy—”
“I just wanted to apologize,” he said as he stepped into the studio. He paused when she stiffened, hands sliding into his pockets. “I’m really sorry for the other night. I was totally out of line.”
She pushed down on her clay, biting the insides of her cheeks as they flushed before nodding. “Yeah. You were.”
“I don’t know what came over me, but I can promise you it will never happen again.”
Something in his voice tugged at her heart, but Alani continued to knead in silence as if taking a moment to consider his words. In the meantime, she stole a few quick glances at him, noting that he looked better than she’d ever seen him—excluding the time he’d been half naked.
Dressed in a navy blue sweater with its sleeves tugged up to his elbows and a pair of smart black jeans, he actually looked presentable, like he was headed somewhere that required he dress up. His facial scruff was a little thicker today, and his hair looked recently trimmed. Handsome. Today, Ivo Ames was handsome, as much as Alani didn’t want to admit it, not even to herself.
“I guess I can accept that,” she said slowly, throwing herself back into her task, “but don’t expect me to give you another chance. That was it.”
“I’ll take what I can get,” he told her, and even though she wasn’t looking, Alani could tell he was smiling. “Thank you. It won’t happen again.”
If it did, she was done. Ivo was a gorgeous guy, yes. There was something about him that kept drawing her back, even though she knew absolutely nothing about him, but she wasn’t the type of woman to be pushed around by any man. Alani might have been soft-spoken and kind, but she could stand up for herself if she needed to. It took a lot of work, sure, but she was getting there.
But if anyone or anything ever threatened her girls, they’d see her flip the switch into mama bear mode so fast…
“What are you working on?”
“I’m…” She wiped at her brow. “I’m getting some clay ready to go on the wheel. I need to make a collection of pieces for one of my professors.”
Alani planned to make a Russian nesting doll kind of thing with one huge pot, then a smaller one, then a miniature one. Each would be identical in detail, however. That’s where the skill came in.
“Can’t wait to see them,” Ivo said. He sidled into her peripheral vision, hovering near the far end of the table. “Tanith says you’re really talented.”
“Oh really?” Electricity hummed through her when their eyes met, prickling each limb and culminating between her thighs. Swallowing hard, she went back to the clay. “You’ve asked her about me again?”
“Only a little.”
“I don’t know whether I should be flattered or not.” She gathered her clay with both hands and carried it over to the electric wheel she’d been using. Ivo chuckled, following at a safe distance.
“I don’t think you should.” He crossed his arms and grinned when she looked at him. Man, did he ever have a pair of biceps on him. Alani blinked hard and started getting the wheel ready.
“Yeah? Why’s that?”
“Because if I hadn’t been such a fuckwit, I could have asked you myself,” he told her, which made her laugh. “So, Tanith has been my only option, which… Well, doesn’t look great for me.”
