“Without it.”Nicholas cleared his throat.He hated discussing private embarrassments.“Father felt it wasn’t manly.”
Penelope stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.“But artisn’tmanly.”
His stomach hollowed in shame and guilt.“I know.That’s… literally what Father always said.”
“Was he a man of science?”she demanded.“Because I am a student of the genre, and I find his conclusions lacking.”
Nicholas blinked.“What?”
“Art isn’t manly or womanly or anything else.It’shumanly.”She frowned in thought.“I haven’t done enough research to determine if other animals display a similar trait.”
“What?”he repeated blankly.
“Facts.I can name hundreds of ‘manly’ artists,” she continued.“Titian married his housekeeper after she gave him two sons.When Rembrandt’s wife took ill, he took her nurse as his lover.If by ‘manly’ you mean ‘shameless roués.’I shall refrain from listing the countless men who painted erotic nudes of their paramours to keep them warm on lonely nights, or I won’t cease talking all evening.”
“You know about art?”he stammered.
“The artifacts on display at the Egyptian Hall in London made me curious about the chemical progression of paint composition over the centuries, which led me to—” She snapped her teeth closed and took his hands firmly in hers.“Nicholas.I regret to inform you that your sire was a blithering idiot.”
He stared back at her speechlessly.What if she was right?His heart pounded.What if she was wrong, and unmasking his true passions earned him nothing but scorn and humiliation?
She bit her lip.“I’m sorry.Too direct?”
“Your mind may be scientific,” he said at last.“But other people—”
“The opinions of strangers are irrelevant.Live for yourself.”She squeezed his hands.“Beyourself.All they’ll have is gossip.You’ll haveart.”
Vertigo assailed him.Tonight he would have something even more precious than art.He would have Penelope.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her from somewhere deep in his soul.A secret place he’d been hiding his entire life.She’d seen through his defenses, torn away his shell, andlikedwhat she found.
With her, he was not some empty Lothario, but an artist.Which meant tonight, he could come to her not as a rake, but as a man.
As himself.
He slid his fingers into her hair as he kissed her.Shewas the work of art.He savored the softness of her skin, the sweetness of her scent, and the heat of her mouth.Yet her kisses were more than just Eden for his senses.
Touching her was no mindless diversion, but a startling bond that grabbed his heart and refused to let go.
The thought of an emotional connection terrified him.His pulse would not stop racing.Wild thoughts slashed through him like lightning strikes.Kissing her was a perfect storm of pleasure and vulnerability and desire.
But with her, he didn’t want some forgettable encounter.He wanted to cherish this night for the rest of his life.No matter how much it scared him.
“One night?”he murmured between kisses.“You’re certain?”
She grinned up at him.“This very night, if you’re so inclined.”
“I’m actually here for two more days.”He kissed each corner of her smile.“I can make room in my schedule for a second visit.”
She twined her arms about his neck.“Let’s start with tonight.”
A lead weight punched into his gut.
Not a yes.
His first time asking to prolong a liaison.The first woman with whom he could not begin to guess how many nights together could ever be enough.And she did not feel the same.Yet, he reminded himself.
The evening was not over.He would make it perfect.
