“You should be afraid I’ll be telling everyone yours.” His voice was low.
Whenever she talked with Bellamy, her blood hummed with an energy she loved. “What exactly do you think my secret is?”
“You know that I know.”
She wasn’t sure if he really knew about her publishing efforts or if he was bluffing. Either way, she suspected he wouldn’t say anything to her parents any more than she’d say something to Oscar.
She nodded at the canvas he was holding, hidden behind brown paper. “Which one do you have there? The field of wildflowers?”
That had been her favorite of the paintings she’d seen in his studio in the shed.
Bellamy’s eyes only narrowed on her all the more. “Go home and stay there.”
The first time she’d noticed him coming out of Templeton & Evans Gallery back in the spring, she’d been surprised to say the least. She hadn’t expected a man like Bellamy to be interested in art. But he’d most definitely been carrying a canvas, although it had been covered and she hadn’t been able to see what it entailed.
Secretly, she’d followed him to the shed behind Oscar’s Pub, where he’d stowed the canvas away. When he’d goneinto the pub, she’d snuck into the shed and investigated long enough to discover not just that canvas but others—incredibly beautiful paintings of landscapes around St. Louis. Each of them had the initials W.B.M. in the corner.
All she’d needed to do was return to Templeton & Evans to find several more of those paintings with the same initials. They’d been for sale, and the price tags on them hadn’t been cheap.
A few weeks later when she’d been trying to sell another one of her stories, she’d seen Bellamy coming out of a different art gallery, and her curiosity had gotten the best of her. She’d gone right up to him and asked him if he was an artist with the name W. B. M.
Instead of staying calm and unruffled like he usually did, he’d been flustered and defensive. His reaction had given her the answer she’d been looking for—that Bellamy McKenna was a very talented artist.
“You need to nip along, Zaira,” Bellamy said. “The city isn’t safe.”
“Aw-w-w.” Zaira cocked her head and gave him what she hoped was her most flirtatious look. “It’s so nice to know you care about me, Bellamy. I feel so special.”
He scoffed, his eyes now flashing with danger—a danger that invaded her and marched into her veins.
Similar to previous interactions with Bellamy, she didn’t understand the emotions he brought to life in her, but she liked the excitement and thrill of their nearness and their conversations.
“Don’t be daft.” He leaned in farther, his face only inches from hers, his gaze riveted to her mouth. “You know you’re just a little lass playing grown-up.”
Something in the way he was studying her mouth sent a sizzle through her, one that scorched her insides and made her inhale sharply.
At the quick rise of her chest, Bellamy’s attention dropped to her bust. The style of her summer gown was cut low, leaving the swell of her chest showing above the lacy edge of her bodice. His gaze seemed to reach out and caress her skin, and she drew in another breath, this one more pronounced than the last.
Was this what desire truly felt like?
She’d tried to write about it realistically. But maybe it was impossible to portray something she’d never experienced firsthand. Did she need to facilitate a relationship with someone like Bellamy so she could experience more depth of emotion the way Mr. Knapp had suggested? Maybe she could have her first kiss? For research purposes?
She wouldn’t mind making Bellamy her subject. Her thoughts spun with all the possibilities even as her gaze snagged on Bellamy’s mouth. With such a handsome mouth—one with a ready grin—he was probably a very good kisser.
“Stop, Zaira,” he growled.
“Stop what?”
“Stop flirting with me every time you see me.”
She took a rapid step back, his words like a splash of cold water against her overheated body. “I’m not flirting.”
“Oh aye. It’s easy to see that you like me.” His voice held too much swagger. “But nothing will ever happen between us.”
How was it that Bellamy could read people so well? Almost as if he could get into their minds—her mind—and see every single thought.
It was slightly mortifying. But thankfully she didn’t embarrass easily. Instead, she forced herself to smile brightly. “I didn’t expect anything tohappen, Bellamy. But since you brought it up, maybe that’s what you’re hoping for.”
He released another scoff. “Ach, now I understand why there’s talk of your da coming to me soon to find you a match.”
