“He truly is a talented young man,” Alfredsaid to her. “Don’t you think?”
Aida tore her attention away from Julian tofocus on Alfred again. In his early seventies, he had kind,sparkling blue eyes and a contagious smile. He was bestowing thatsmile on her now, and for the first time all night, Aida didn’thave to force it as she grinned back at him.
“Yes, he is,” she agreed. “This painting ismy favorite of his.”
“Mine too.”
He rubbed his chin as he tilted his head tothe side. Aida glanced at the painting of the storm-tossed sea andthe threads of color woven into it. She’d realized a while ago sheand Alfred often had similar taste in artwork.
“The thread and the colors make it solovely,” she said.
Alfred smiled at her as he patted her hand.“Not as lovely as you, my dear.”
Aida squeezed his hand. “You’re tookind.”
He laughed as he released her. “If I werefifty years younger, you wouldn’t think me so kind as I’d bechasing you all over this town. Now, if you’ll excuse me, dear, I’dlike to speak to Nicolette about this piece. I have the perfectplace for it in my home.”
He had to live in a mansion with wallscovered in the paintings he bought from here, never mind all theother galleries he frequented. She didn’t know what Alfred had doneto make all his money, but he enjoyed spending it on art, whichonly made her like him more.
Aida felt the burn of Julian’s eyes againsther back while watching Alfred walk away. She couldn’t turn and seehim with that woman again, but she couldn’t stand there doingnothing. Meandering through the hallways, she mingled with thecrowd as she made sure everyone had everything they needed.
Julian sipped his champagne while Aida movedthrough the crowd with ease. She hid her exhaustion well as shewent from one person to another. Flushed with excitement, her skinglowed, and her eyes twinkled. She was in her element here, and heloved watching the joy she exuded.
Hedespisedthe way the men in theroom watched her too. His hand clenched around his glass ofchampagne as their eyes followed her around the room. If it werepossible for him to kill every one of them, he would.
He took a step to follow her into the hallwaywhen the hand on his arm brought him up short. He’d forgotten allabout the woman who attached herself to him shortly after heentered the gallery.
She protested when he grasped her hand anddislodged it from his arm. His inherent ability to attract partnersto him was something he’d never welcomed, and he couldn’t deal witha clinger right now.
“Excuse me,” he said as he released her handand followed Aida into the hallway. He ignored the woman’sstuttered protests as he focused on Aida and allowed her presenceto calm him.
Aida stopped in front of another painting toadmire the trees layered onto the canvas. She was only there for aminute before she felt Julian’s heat against her back. Her skincame alive as ripples of pleasure ran up her back. He shouldn’t behere, but she was glad he was.
“It’s interesting,” he murmured as he sippedhis champagne.
She was about to ask him why he was here, buther words strangled in her throat when she turned to find hisravenous gaze on her. Many of the men at the showing wore tailoredsuits or sports jackets, but he’d donned a simple black sweater anda pair of blue jeans and looked lickable. His neatly trimmed, blackbeard added an air of mystery and dangerousness to him that somewomen loved.
“Your boyfriend did this?” he asked.
It took her a second to recall that Owen waskissing her when she first saw Julian. Was that only last night? Somuch had happened since that she’d forgotten all about it.
Then, her brow furrowed as his words sank in.He believed she would kiss him if she had a boyfriend? How could hethink such a horrible thing about her?
Her teeth ground together as she turned backto the painting. She almost told him that Owen wasn’t herboyfriend, but she didn’t owe him an explanation.
“Owen painted everything in the gallery,” shesaid.
Julian realized she hadn’t confirmed ordenied what Owen was to her. He should have asked her outright, buthe was afraid of the answer. He didn’t think she would kiss him ifshe were dating someone else, and heknewshe wouldn’t ifshe loved Owen, but he needed to know what the man was to her.
“I’m not much of a critic,” Julian said, “butI’m impressed.”
“Hmm,” Aida murmured.
She tried to ignore the way her skin prickledwhen he stepped closer and his hand brushed her arm. Was the oxygenbeing sucked out of the room? She tugged at the collar of herdress.
“I didn’t get the chance to tell youearlier,” Julian said. “But you look beautiful tonight.”
“I look like I haven’t slept in days.”
