“They’re full of emotion—simple emotion. Raw. I love that with only a few strokes, you can make a picture say something.”
“Thanks.” His response, brief, short, tried to be nonchalant, but it failed. She heard the underlying notes of relief and delight and smiled inside herself. Sensitivity was a good thing in a man. Especially one who informed her that she was going to seduce him.
She became quiet again, watching him. As always, she was fascinated by his hands, and admired the long, tanned fingers sprinkled with fine black hairs. She watched the tendons shift on the back of them, giving texture and life to his hands, and admired the solidness of his angular wrists.
“Have you ever thought about exhibiting?” Fiona sensed that she’d inched her way out onto a limb, but if she was going to make love to the man…well, she felt she had the right to get to know him.
At that, Gideon snapped up his head to look at her. “Exhibit? My work?” The stark horror in his eyes threw her for a loop. “I would never even consider that.”
“Why in the world not? They’re definitely good enough. With some nice matting and frames, you could easily sell them.”
“Absolutely not. I’m an attorney, not an artist.”
Fiona arched her brows. Keeping her voice gentle, for she realized that this was some kind of red-hot button for him, she reminded him, “They’re not mutually-exclusive.”
“To me they are.” His mouth drew up firmly, and Fiona decided it would be wise to stop there. She could pursue the issue later.
She wanted to end with one last comment though. “I think they’re beautiful, and if you ever wanted to gift me with one of them, I would be very flattered.”
“How did you know about my work?”
She smiled, resisting the urge to reach across the counter and touch his hands. “The lines on your palms told me you had artistic abilities—but since they were fainter on your left, dominant, hand, I suspected that you’d pushed the urge to create aside, in favor of more structured pursuits.”
Her guess had paid off not only by being accurate, but also by catching him off guard and giving Fiona a chance to catch her breath—away from him, in the den.
She’d come back into the kitchen, knowing she was going to have to play this cool, or she’d be lost in no time—succumbing to the strong attraction she knew sizzled between them, and very likely losing her own self control.
Being out of control was not something she was willing to risk.
Ten
“Do you think she was murdered?”
Gideon looked up at her words and shrugged easily, his shoulders moving under the starched shirt he still wore. At least he’d removed the tie and unbuttoned the top button. “It could have been an accident—but it’s possible she was murdered.” He set his fork aside and raised his wineglass to take a sip.
Fiona swallowed and looked down at her plate, her stomach curling inside. She knew it wouldn’t be much longer…and the anticipation was making her crazy. Here they were, settled at a smooth, mahogany table in a cozy dining nook, eating calmly and discussing the remains of a body that had been found in her store…when all she wanted to do was touch him. Everywhere.
And if the glint in his eyes, and the tic in his jaw were any indication, he was just as distracted. So why did she continue to delay, to play the game?
He can make me lose it—lose control. I have to keep the upper hand.
“I wonder if Valente put the body there, or if someone else did.”
Gideon’s movements were smooth as he settled back in the chair and pushed his empty plate aside. He unbuttoned his shirt cuff and rolled it back, exposing a muscular forearm. “That’s the million-dollar question. Perhaps they’ll find something in her clothing that will at least help identify her.” He rolled up his other sleeve and watched her with hot, steady eyes.
Fiona had finished everything she was going to eat—which was to say, a very,verysmall portion of her steak andlotsof vegetables—and she stood to begin clearing the dishes away. “I’m going to make sure I look through everything Valente left behind to see if there’s any clue as to who she was.”
A little shiver danced up her spine—not, for once, caused by Gideon. This was a real-life Nancy Drew mystery, and she wasn’t about to sit aside and let the detectives have all the fun. When would she get another chance like this again?
The shiver turned into steaming lava when her gaze was caught by Gideon’s. She hesitated, leaning over a corner of the table toward him to take his plate, then began to draw back. He reached out with deliberate slowness and grasped her wrist, tugging just enough to bring her to eye-level with him. “What’s the hurry?”
She boldly leaned forward to press a light kiss to his lips, pausing longer than she’d meant to when it felt so good. Just as her eyes were sinking closed and she started to forget who she was, Fiona gathered her senses and pulled away. “Remember, you promised you weren’t going to seduce me.” Her voice, meant to be light and playful, came out much too breathy to be taken seriously.
“I didn’t make that move,” he replied casually, but she could see the rise and fall of his chest under that starched shirt and she knew he was fighting just as hard as she to remain in control of himself.
Then, abruptly, something inside her snapped. Why was she waiting? It was time.
“Come on—let’s get settled in the living room,” she suggested, taking his wrist. Her fingers barely fit around it, but when she tugged, he obliged and pulled to his feet.
