A Sip of You(58)

He strode toward me and pulled me flush against him. I tingled all over as I made contact with his big, hard body. “You look perfect, Catherine,” his voice vibrated through me as his hot, warm breath tickled at my throat. “You smell good too.” He took my hand, then frowned at it. “Except you’re cold. Didn’t you wear your gloves?”

“I…”

“Never mind. I already know you forgot them.” He rubbed my hands in his, stepped back from our embrace, and led me into the penthouse. “We’re in for a special treat tonight. A friend from Japan is in town and he just happens to be a renowned sushi master. He’s made dinner for us.”

I looked up at him. His eyes were shining and he still wore that unapologetic grin. I could tell he was really excited about this and sushi was one of my favorite foods. “Really? That’s fabulous! Is that the surprise?”

“Part of it.” He paused in the living room and gestured to the wall above the fireplace. I couldn’t remember what had been there before, but what I saw now made me inhale sharply. “This is another part. Look what I found.”

I stared in stunned silence at the large black and white print hanging on the wall. It was of a lone surfer executing a cutback on a massive wave, a maneuver that meant he was actually riding up the wave. It was one of mine.

“Wow,” I said quietly. “This is a surprise.”

I hadn’t seen the print in years, and I thanked God it wasn’t a shot I’d taken of Jace. That would have been beyond awkward. The surfer in the picture was a guy named Ian who had just been an acquaintance. The day I’d shot it, I’d taken a break from classes and headed out on the water with my board and equipment for some practice, as I’d still been getting used to balancing the heavy rigging that held my camera. Ian had happened to be the only other surfer out there and had become my subject by coincidence. He wasn’t a great surfer, but every surfer has a day when each wave breaks perfectly, and that had been Ian’s day. I’d been fortunate to capture it.

I tried to stay cool, but the collision of my past and present was so jarring, especially with the whole Jeremy issue so fresh in my mind. “This was one of the pieces in my final portfolio my senior year,” I told William. “Then it was in the first show of my work and it sold for twice what I thought it would.”

“I’m sure I paid several times that,” he answered, smiling with his gaze still on the photo.

I looked back at the image. Right after I’d graduated, a real gallery in Santa Cruz had picked me up and sold all my prints. Jace and I had used the money to help with travel expenses after our wedding, when I’d joined him on tour. I wondered what William would think if he knew those details.

A moment later William held out a glass of white wine to me. I hadn’t even realized he’d stepped away to pour it. “Thank you,” I said as I took the glass.

“With Japanese food, I like the wine to be a background note so the ingredients take center stage.”

I’d almost forgotten about the dinner to come, and I nodded and sipped. The wine was very good, cool and sweet with hints of pear. I wanted to slam the whole glass and then about three more just to steady my nerves, but I sipped instead.

“The idea is to cleanse your palate so you can better focus on the complex tastes.”

I sipped again, focused on palate cleansing, and kept a tight smile on my face. “What is this? Is it one of yours?”

William was watching me closely, like he was trying to gauge if showing me the print had been a good idea or not. “No, it’s French. A Chenin Blanc. It’s crisp and lean, and I thought it would be a great match for Junzo’s dishes.”

“Yes,” I answered absently. I couldn’t stop looking at the image on the wall. I shuddered a little when I remembered that I’d shot it at Pleasure Point, the spot in Santa Cruz Jace and I had surfed all the time. It was also the locale of the bad dream that had woke me up in a cold sweat in Napa. I hadn’t told William about the dream yet.

“You have an amazing eye, Catherine,” he said, bringing me back to the present. “I wanted the print because it was yours, but I also wanted it because it’s really good. Exceptional. You know that, don’t you? You’re very talented.”

That snapped me back to the moment. I felt my cheeks heat as a blush bloomed in them. I really did need to learn to take a compliment. And I did know I was a good photographer. I would have known it even if two extremely hot men hadn’t told me so today. First Hutch Morrison and now William Lambourne.