“I’m glad you think so, but my mother thought the townhouse was too small and the neighborhood was too crowded. She’d rather live in Upstate New York.”
Apparently, his mother was not blind, just a snob. Whitney nodded. “Well, I think this place is very beautiful.”
Her gaze fell to one of the many paintings on the wall. Excitement rushed through her, and she gasped again, moving closer to the painting of a bridge over a small stream covered with flowers floating in the water.
“Oh, my...” She stopped in front of the painting, not believing her own eyes. She stretched out her hand to touch it, but withdrew before it reached its mark. “Is this a... Claude Monet?”
When Zack stepped beside her, she didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t. The painting was too mesmerizing.
“Yeah. You like Monet?”
“Ilovehis work.” She grudgingly tore her focus on that painting and moved to another one. This particular painting was of a Victorian man and woman walking amongst some trees and shrugs. “No!” she gasped. “This can’t be...”
She snapped her gaze to Zack who stood looking at her with a silly grin.
“What?” he asked innocently.
“Is this a Pierre-Auguste Renoir painting?”
His grin widened as he nodded. “You certainly know your painters.”
She glanced back at the painting. “I adore his work.”
“Yeah, he’s one of my favorites, too.”
“I could look at these paintings for hours.”
He shrugged. “Feel free. I’m going upstairs to shower and change my clothes. This dried blood on my skin is itching like crazy.”
She tore her attention away from the paintings to look at him, again. “Do you live here, too?”
“No, but I have a room here... with clothes.”
“Oh. Well, when you shower, if you get your bandage wet—”
“Yes, I know. There’s gauze and tape in the hall closet. We’ll bandage up my arm when I’m done showering, I promise.” He motioned his hand toward the kitchen. “Also, feel free to look through the kitchen if you get hungry.”
He turned and headed up the stairs. She couldn’t tear away from staring at the way his jeans practically clung to his thighs and waist.
Grumbling under her breath, she moved toward the kitchen. Maybe she was the one who needed a shower... a very cold one. The man confused her. Her emotions jumped all over the place when he was around. She just needed to figure him out so she knew how to act around him. That was the only way either of them could survive.
The grumbling of her stomach reminded her that there was something more important than staring dreamily at paintings by famous artists – or at a certain man’s butt.
The kitchen was vastly different from the front part of the house because every appliance was extremely state-of-the-art. The first place she went was to the refrigerator. Just as she pulled the door open, her cell phone buzzed. She jumped from the sudden sound and quickly grabbed it. When she read the name on caller ID, her heart sank in dread.
What excuse could she give Captain Bott for her mess-up this time?
“Agent Lawson,” she answered, hoping to sound confident.
“Agent?” His loud voice boomed from the other end. “You’re using that title loosely, aren’t you?”
Her nerves were already frazzled, but it seemed as though he was going to make it worse. “I um... I don’t know what you mean, Captain.”
“Lawson, I just finished watching your video.”
Grimacing, she rubbed her forehead. “What video, sir? I didn’t make a vid—”
“No,youdidn’t make it, but someone at the airport did and they’re spreading it around social media.” He cussed. “What do you think you were doing bringing attention to Zack Greyson when he’s supposed to be in hiding?”
