27
Zaira couldn’t believe Bellamy was really having an art show in the gallery. She was amazed at his bravery and prayed it would go well for him, better than the revelation of her identity had gone.
As she started toward the door of the building, she halted. She’d invited her parents, as Bellamy had requested. But the whole way from Oakland into the city, she’d resorted to her usual docile manner, pretending everything was as it should be.
The truth was, she still needed to admit to her parents that she hadn’t stopped writing and publishing the way they wanted. At one point during the ride, she’d known she needed to have that conversation even if it pushed her farther away from them. Yet, she’d silenced the inner voice, telling herself she didn’t want to have a disagreement with her parents on Bellamy’s special night.
Of course, she’d informed them all about Bellamy’s painting. She’d had to in order to invite them to the gallery with her. While they’d been surprised, they hadn’t been put off bythe news. They probably thought it was a hobby and nothing he was too serious about.
But she knew better. It was much more than a hobby for Bellamy. He was an exceptionally good artist, and he would someday be famous. Or at least her fanciful heart hoped so.
Regardless, she was frustrated at how readily her parents had accepted Bellamy’s painting but how easily they’d squelched her writing.
Behind her, Mam gave her a nudge. “Go on with you now, Zaira. This is the perfect opportunity tonight to show yourself as the poised and proper lady that you are.”
Zaira’s spine only stiffened. Tonight wasn’t about trying to repair her image or her family’s reputation. It was about Bellamy and the strength he’d displayed to reveal his paintings, no matter the consequences, no matter what anyone thought, no matter what the future held.
She had to do the same.
Drawing in a deep breath, she pivoted and faced her parents. Both were wearing stylish evening attire and had seemed eager to do something in the city after having so few social activities that summer so far.
Da had been in the middle of whispering in Mam’s ear. The flush on her face and soft smile meant he’d been complimenting her or sharing words of endearment.
Zaira opened her mouth to tell them the truth but then stopped. Could she really? Not when they both looked so happy.
She spun and took two more steps.
If Bellamy could be forthright and brave, then she would have to be as well.
Once again she halted. This time she spun and spoke atthe same time. “I’m still writing my weekly column for theDailyRepublican.”
With fading smiles, her parents stared at her, their expressions startled.
She forced herself to continue. “I’m sorry you don’t like my writing. But it’s important to me. And I hope someday you’ll accept me for who I am and not who you think I should be.”
Without waiting for them to respond, she turned around and raced toward the doors, needing to get away before they reacted. She wasn’t sure she could bear any more of their disappointment and disapproval, especially not tonight.
As she pushed open the doors and flew inside, her gaze seemed to have an internal compass that could always find Bellamy no matter where he was in a crowd. She immediately located him standing in the lobby just outside a busy room filled with people milling around paintings.
His eyes were riveted to her, so dark and intense and magnetic.
She stopped abruptly and let herself take him in from his wavy dark hair down the hard length of his body. He’d shed his sling for the night and was holding his injured shoulder stiffly. Even so, in his suit, he was a devastating heart-stealer. For better or worse, he’d stolen her heart, and she knew she’d never get it back. He had it forever.
As a tall gentleman came up to Bellamy and spoke to him, Bellamy didn’t see or hear the man. He had eyes only for her, as if she was the only one who currently existed in the world.
As he smiled at her, a sweet pulse of pleasure raced through her, and she smiled in return. Oh aye, she loved this man. Sheloved him more than anyone or anything. And she wanted to be with him more than anyone or anything.
Since his visit yesterday, she’d thought of him even more, attempting to make sense of his gifts. Had he been sending the message that he cared about her? If so, he was wearing down her resistance. Was that what he’d been trying to do? Could she let him?
Bellamy walked away from the man at his side and began to cross to her. With each footstep closer, her heart pounded harder. What would he do when he reached her? Would he draw her into an embrace?
She had half a mind to fling herself against him, but she could hear her mam and dad entering the building, and she had to show some restraint. It was actually for the best if she kept Bellamy at arm’s length and didn’t allow herself to get carried away with him.
When he was but a foot away, he stopped, his charming smile melting her heart again. “You came.”
“Aye, I wanted to be part of this special night.” She glanced behind him toward the display room, mostly because his dark eyes were simply too handsome and if she looked into them for much longer, his intensity would turn her body into liquid. She would have no choice but to flop to the floor in a melted puddle.
The older gentleman had followed Bellamy. “Mr. Shanahan?” He stepped forward to greet Da. “I’m Mr. Davenport, and I’m the one in charge of the exhibition tonight.”
