Page 57 of The Image of You

She was alone, her parents already present. They had stopped briefly, offering fake interest as they looked at the photo, their expressions blank. They had no idea what they were looking at. One of the committee members was standing with me and introduced us. I was offered a cool handshake and an even cooler smile. It was only the fact that the committee member droned on about my success and generosity that I was deemed passable enough for polite conversation. Because they were told I was important, I became such in their eyes.

I met their impassive gazes with one of my own, acknowledged the praise with a tilt of my head, as if it was my just due. Stood tall and proud in my designer suit and expensive watch, both of which spoke of the only thing they understood—money.

I answered their inane questions with a wealth of technical phrases I knew they wouldn’t understand. Smirked arrogantly as other people came forward, crowding around the piece, listening to their words.

Erotic.

Stimulating.

A masterpiece.

I accepted them all.

Because with Ally in the picture, they were all correct. But it was she who made it that way. Their praise was for her—they simply didn’t know it.

I narrowed my eyes as Bradley appeared behind Ally, wrapping his hand around her elbow. I felt a simmering anger in my chest.

No one should be touching her but me.

Someone approached them, and Ally turned, greeting an older woman I recognized as Elena. They began to talk, and Bradley moved away and grabbed a drink from the bar. As he approached, I tensed up, wanting to reach out and punch him. There was no reason to, aside from the fact that I wanted to feel his flesh give way under my fist. Instead, I observed him in silence as he looked at the picture, congratulating myself on my restraint.

“Interesting,” he commented. “Not my cup of tea.”

I smirked. The idiot had no idea. “No?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not much for…art.”

I nodded, keeping my face blank.

He took another pull on his drink. “Good of you to donate it, though.”

“It’s a worthy cause. Very close to the heart of someone I care deeply for.”

“Excellent.” He stuck out his hand, surprising me. “Dr. Bradley Bennett. I’m part of the committee for the event.”

For a brief second, I looked at his hand and then clasped it in mine, giving it a firm shake. I could be generous. After all, Ally was mine now. “Adam Kincaid.”

“Thank you for this.”

“I hope it does well.”

He tilted his head and moved on.

I drained my glass and set it on the table close to me. Then I heard a small gasp I’d know anywhere and turned to face Ally.

Up close, she was more stunning than ever. But her beautiful eyes were wide and confused, her gaze bouncing between me and the picture. Standing beside her, Elena took us in, her steady gaze shrewd. She tilted her head, studying the image, then she smirked and brushed a kiss to Ally’s cheek.

“I’m going to the table. These old legs need to sit down. I’ll see you after dinner, child.” Then she looked at me. “I understand you’re at my table, Mr. Kincaid. You’ll sit beside me.”

It was a command, not a request.

“My pleasure, ma’am,” I murmured, not taking my eyes off Ally.

Elena chuckled and swept away. “We’ll see about that, boy.”

My lips quirked at her tone and the name she’d bestowed on me.

My Nightingale looked at me and then again at the picture. I wanted to pull her into my arms and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. I needed to touch her, but I knew I couldn’t.