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My phone buzzes and I tug it from my little black clutch. It’s a text from Noah saying he’s right outside.
“He’s here.” I lean into him and kiss his warm cheek. “Have fun tonight, Dad.”
“Send me your location when you get there.”
I nod, although that’s the last thing I plan to do. He’d probably end up ditching the event and wait outside wherever we go.
Noah’s Superleggera is parked in front of the entrance, but I can’t see him until I slip inside, because the windows are so heavily tinted.
When I do, my breath catches. Damn, he’s handsome as sin. Dressed casually in gray slacks and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his thick hair with that effortless finger-brushed messy style, he looks anything but casual. He’s a devastating devil.
But it’s the way he takes me in that really has me breathless. The desire in his eyes as they rove over my body is so palpable, he might as well be touching me.
“You’re not wearing what I asked you to,” he says.
Glancing at him, I say, “Sorry. Hope this isn’t too frumpy for you.”
He chuckles, the sound touching me in just the right places. “I’m glad. Red is your color.”
I grin from ear to ear, pleased with how good I feel in this dress. “Wait till you see what I’m wearing under it.”
“What?”
I’m about to answer when movement in my peripheral catches my attention. It’s my father. He’s standing in the doorway of the house, staring intently at the vehicle. No doubt taking note of the license plate number.
“He’s all dressed up,” Noah comments. “Where is he going?”
“A private art auction in Newark.”
“There are private auctions in Newark?”
I’m not sure how to answer a question I didn’t expect him to ask. “Um. They’re invite only because of the rare items they offer. Perhaps you can come with me one day,” I say.
“Are they legal?”
My lips tug upward because I’m stuck on an answer. Do I trust him and tell him that no, they are not legal? Would he report it to the authorities? Or should I lie and tell him that everything we do is perfectly within the law?
It’s not like I want to be a part of that. But, unfortunately, Dad has a taste for things that aren’t always available for purchase at places like Christie’s or Sotheby’s. Sometimes, they’re already a part of a collector’s private collection, and said collector doesn’t want to part with them. Or they’re museum pieces that would never be sold.
Of course, I can’t tell him any of that. Instead, I say, “We should go before my dad gets in with us.”
Noah laughs. “Would he?”
“Who knows? He’s never given me a hard time about someone I want to date before you.” I peer through the side mirror as we pull away.
“Why do you think he doesn’t like me?” he asks.
“Honestly, it’s becauseIlike you too much.”
He turns to me, his lips tugged upward. “You like me too much?”
“Don’t let that go to your head.” I slap his shoulder, but it’s true.
“What’s that?” He points at the wrapped item on my lap.
“A gift.” When he tries to snatch it from me, I add, “Not yet. Concentrate on the road. I’ll give it to you when we get there.”
“I thoughtyouwere my gift tonight.” He reaches over and takes my hand, then brings it to his mouth and proceeds to nibble on my fingers.”
