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“That depends on what they’re being shown.”
“Heh. No, it depends on how much money and power the show-off possesses, and then the person will pretend to be suitably impressed based on how much they figure ingratiating themselves will help them out.”
“So you think my admirers are merely out to use me for my wealth and fame?”
She shrugged. “Not so far-fetched, is it?”
“You’re not very good for my ego, Paige, as you seem to think no one would suffer my company without heavy compensation.”
“That’s not what I meant. Oh…pfft. I like your house—that’s the important thing right now.”
“I assume the location of your bedrooms are important, as well?”
“Bedrooms?”
“Ana will have a nursery. I called my housekeeper earlier and ensured that all of her things have been put in there.”
“A nursery?”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Did you think I would cram you both in the basement to keep you out of the way?”
“Well, I didn’t know. I didn’t…We really need to discuss this more.”
“I agree, which is why we’re having dinner together later.”
“Oh.”
“Here, so you don’t need to worry about a babysitter. Now come with me.” He started up the stairs and down the hall. He could hear Paige’s footsteps behind him, slow and methodical. He turned and saw that she was practically getting whiplash. “What is it?”
“Your art!” she said.
“What about it?”
“It’s so beautiful. And it really stands out in the white space. You have fabulous taste.”
“Fabulous? Rarely am I accused of being fabulous.”
“Well, in this instance, you are. I’m going to have to take the time to study it all later.”
“So, you like art?”
She smiled and her entire face brightened, her blue eyes glittering. “Love it. I’m not just into dressing windows. I paint, too. Well, I started with painting. And some sculpture. It was about the only thing that held my attention in school. Unfortunately, one cannot graduate with art credits alone.”
“I would guess not.” The enthusiasm she felt for the subject, for the paintings—paintings he hardly looked at anymore—was fascinating. She was so different than most of the people he knew. She was open. She wore her passion all over her, for anyone to read. Not just her passion, her anger, her happiness. Everything was just laid bare with her.
And she evoked something in him. Emotions, things he hadn’t felt in longer than he could remember. As a result, he’d made a mistake in his office earlier, and he didn’t make mistakes.
But she’d been standing there, all challenge and fire, angry as hell. And she’d made him angry. More than that, she’d tempted him. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from walking forward, from wrapping his arm around her and drawing her body against his.
She challenged him. No one challenged him. But she did. And she picked at his control, pushing and pushing until he’d been unable to do anything but push back.
He didn’t like it. Emotion was destructive. Painful. But he wouldn’t give in to it. What he hadn’t lost the day his mother died had been drained from him over the course of eight years in foster care.
Now, he doubted there was even enough in him to cause problems, even if he wanted it to. No, what had come over him in his office was lust. Pure and simple. Normally, that wasn’t a problem for him, but he was only a man, so it wasn’t too surprising.
Paige had the added benefit of being forbidden fruit, another thing that had never appealed to him before, but he could certainly understand why it might.
“Ana’s room is here,” he said, redirecting his thoughts, indicating a door on the left. As he pushed it open, a strange flash of anxiety ran through him. It was unfamiliar. Completely different than it had been that morning when he’d left for work. It gave him a strange sense of being back in his childhood. Opening the door to a new bedroom for the first time, seeing what was there.
Whether it would be spare, or crowded. Clean or dirty. Nothing that belonged to him.
