She pressed herself tight in his arms. “You could never do what your grandfather did to Ana,” she whispered in his ear. Or what his grandfather had done to him. “Not in a million years.”
“You sound pretty confident.”
“I am,” she replied with a smile. “There’s a reason Ana sings your praises so much. You’re a good man, Stuart Duchenko.” Her heart echoed every word.
Stuart squeezed her tight, and for a second Patience thought she felt his body shake. The moment didn’t last. Slipping out of her embrace, he crossed the hall and moved to a new doorway. There he stood, staring into an unoccupied room. “My pity party must sound pretty pathetic to you.”
Because, he was saying, she’d had it so much worse. Maybe so, but as she’d told him before, it wasn’t a contest. “Everyone needs reassurance once in a while.”
“That so?” A smile made its way to his face as he leaned against the door frame. “Well, in that case, I hope you know how awesome you are, Patience Rush. I’m damn lucky our paths crossed.”
On the contrary, she was the lucky one. She was falling deeper and deeper by the second.
“Thank you for being here.” Leaning forward, he kissed her. A long, lingering kiss, the tenderness of which left Patience’s head spinning. “See you back home?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. If there was any chance that she could keep her heart from getting involved, that kiss chased it away for good.
CHAPTER NINE
THAT NIGHT, THE TWO of them lay on the deck’s top sofa, legs and bodies entwined like spaghetti, making out like a pair of teenagers. Patience swore Stuart had turned kissing into an art form. One moment his kisses were possessive and demanding, the next they turned so reverent they brought tears to her eyes.
All the while Patience fought the voice in her head warning her that he’d eventually realize she wasn’t good enough.
She was saved from her dark thoughts by Stuart tugging on her lower lip with his teeth. “I think I’m love with your mouth,” he murmured.
Words muttered in the throes of passion, but Patience’s heart jumped all the same. She forced herself to treat the remark as lightly as he intended it to be. Running her bare foot up Stuart’s leg, she thrilled at the way her touch caused a soft groan. “What does lapushka mean?” she asked.
Stuart raised himself up on his elbows. “Seriously?”
“I’m curious.” And she needed the distraction. He might have been only talking about her mouth, but the word love required her to take a step back. “I know tetya means aunt...”
“Lapushka means little paw. And before you ask, I have no idea why she calls me that.”
“I like it. Lapushka.” She drew out the second syllable. “It’s sweet.”
“Better than mon petit chou. French for my little cabbage,” he added when she frowned.
“I thought you didn’t know French.”
“That was the extent of my knowledge.”
“At least now I have something to call Piper next time she calls.”
Stuart didn’t answer. A faraway look found its way to his face. Patience touched his cheek to call him back to the present. “You’re thinking about what Ana told us this afternoon, aren’t you?”
“Grandpa Theodore took so much from her. She could have had a completely different life.” He cast his eyes to the cushion, but not before she caught a flash of regret. “I keep wondering if there isn’t some way I could fix the damage he caused.”
“How? Unless you can turn back time, I don’t think you can.”
“Actually...” With a moan that could best be described as reluctant, Stuart rolled onto his side. The separation wasn’t more than a few inches, but Patience felt the distance immediately and shivered. “I was thinking about that this afternoon.”
“About turning back time?”
“Sort of.”
Now he had her interest. She shifted onto her side as well, propping herself on one elbow so as to give him her full attention. “What do you mean?”
“I was thinking about the painting we saw in the photograph. Ana said Nigel painted all sorts of studies of her.”
“Yes, but she also said your grandfather paid someone to buy all of them.”
“But what if he didn’t? I mean, what if he wasn’t able to buy them all. Ana made it sound like there were a lot of paintings and sketches. It’s possible one or two of them survived. Grandpa Theodore was powerful, but he wasn’t omnipotent. In spite of what he thought.”
“Do you really think a painting exists?”
“It’s possible, and if one does, then Ana could have back a piece of what she lost. Might not be much, but...”
It was a wonderful, beautiful gesture that deepened the feelings that were rapidly taking control of Patience’s heart. “But Nigel died years ago,’ she reminded him. “How would we ever find out about his paintings?”
“We can at least try. I did a little searching on the internet this afternoon. Apparently Nigel had a sister.”
“Really? Is she still alive?”
“Alive and living in Paris. If anyone knows what happened to his artwork, it would be her. All we need is for someone to go talk to her. You wouldn’t happen to have any ideas who we could call, do you?” he asked, brushing the bangs from her face.
“Funny you should ask—I do.” She matched his grin. “I’m sure Piper would be glad to help. She knows how important Ana is to me. I’ll call her tomorrow. With luck, she can arrange to talk to Nigel’s sister this week.”
“That would be great. Thank you.”
He didn’t have to thank her. “After everything Ana has done for me, this is nothing. I’d love to find this painting as much as you.” And give back to the woman who saved her a piece of her soul mate that was bigger than a box of memories and a string of cats bearing his name.
Thinking of the cats made her giggle. “What’s so funny?” Stuart asked.
“Nothing. I was thinking, if the cats all had Nigel’s personality, does that mean he never stopped eating?”
“Interesting question. We’ll have to ask Ana someday.
“In the meantime,” he said, rising above her. “It’s still the middle of the night in Paris. We’ve got a few hours to kill before we can think about calling your sister.”
“Is that so?”
“Uh-huh.” He gripped her waist and quickly flipped her beneath him, causing Patience to let out a high-pitched squeal. “Looks like we’ll have to find something to pass the time,” he said, dipping his head.
Patience met him halfway.
Despite claiming her older sister “owed her,” Piper was more than happy to visit Nigel’s sister, just as Patience knew she would be. “Stuart and I really appreciate this,” she said to the younger woman.
“Stuart, huh?” Piper’s face loomed large as she leaned toward the screen. “How are things going with the two of you? Is he still cool with, you know, the club?”
Patience’s mind flashed to a few hours before, in Stuart’s bed. “Seems to be,” she replied.
“See? I told you he’d understand. It’s not like you went to work in that place because you liked dancing naked on tables.”
“Of course, I didn’t,” Patience replied with a wince. She wondered if the memory would ever stop making her stomach churn. “And you’re right. Stuart says he understands.”
“Wait—what do you mean ‘says he understands’? Don’t you believe him?”
“No, I believe him. Stuart’s been great.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Patience shook her head. How could she explain that Stuart being great was the problem. He was too great while she was...well, she sure as heck didn’t feel worthy. Sooner or later, this dream had to end. A soft sigh escaped her lips. Too late, she remembered Piper was on the other end of the line.
“Patience?”
Blinking, she came face-to-face with Piper’s scowl.
“What aren’t you telling me?” her sister asked.
“Um...” She bit her lip and prayed her sister’s old cell phone camera wouldn’t pick up her blush.
It was a fruitless wish. “Oh, my God! Is something going on between you and your boss?”
“He’s not my boss,” Patience said quickly. “He’s my boss’s great-nephew.”
They were splitting hairs and they both knew it, which was why Piper asked, “What exactly is the difference?”
“The difference...” There was no difference, but she didn’t want to admit it. Calling Stuart her boss only reminded her they weren’t from the same world, a reality she was trying to ignore for as long as possible. Acknowledging that reality would only lead to others, like Patience not being good enough for him. “The difference would be the same as you dating either your boss or his next-door neighbor.” she finally said.
Just as she knew she would, Piper rolled her eyes at the lame example. “Please. The only neighbor I’ve met is an eleven-year-old boy, and my boss doesn’t even...”
“Doesn’t even what?” For some reason, her sister had stopped midsentence, and her gaze was focused on a point off camera. “Piper?”