“Why?”
“It will remind me of the look you make when you come.” He whispered in my ear. “The look of exquisite pleasure and raw emotion.”
I gasped at his words and pulled away from him. There was something so desperately inappropriate about Xavier, and while a part of me hated that about him, the other part of me absolutely loved it.
***
“Welcome to the National Gallery.” Xavier extended his arms as he pointed at the grand white building in front of us.
“It’s huge.” I looked up at the white building in awe and then ran up the steps and stood on the balcony overlooking the city.
“That’s Trafalgar Square.” Xavier ran up behind me and pointed to the enormous black lions in the center surrounding a tall statue of a man.
“It’s amazing. I’ve seen the photos before, but never imagined I’d see them in person.”
“Do you know who Trafalgar was?”
“Not really. I know he had something to do with Napoleon right?”
“Napoleon Bonaparte?” He looked at me with a straight face.
“I think so.” I bit my lower lip. “But Napoleon is French and we’re in London, so I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Tell me.”
“Well, my question was slightly tricky.” He laughed and grabbed my hand. “See the statue of the man? His name is Nelson. Lord Nelson. And the column was built for him for his success against the French during the Napoleonic wars at the battle of Trafalgar.”
“I knew it had something to do with Napoleon.” I stuck my tongue out at him and he laughed.
“Indeed you did.” He leaned towards me and kissed my cheek. “Let’s go inside now so I can impress you with my knowledge of art.”
“You don’t need to impress me,” I said quietly, and he stopped and stared at me for a moment before smiling widely.
“And that’s why I want to impress you more than anything.” We stood there for a few minutes, my heart beating rapidly at his soft gaze. Part of me wondered if he was going to be sweet to me from now on. Maybe he’d stop with the barbs. Maybe he’d show me a sweeter and softer side. I knew that if he called me a whore or insinuated that I was a prostitute again, that I’d be likely to slap him so hard his cheek would be stinging for days.
“We shall go directly to the Impressionist room.” He grinned at me as we entered the museum. “We go up the steps and make our first right.” He strode ahead of me and then stopped. “We can go in the gift shop afterwards if you want.” He pointed to a store a little further up on the left.
“That would be nice.”
“I’m excited to hear your thoughts about each painting.” His eyes lit up and I realized just how into art he was. Part of me was impressed and the other part was scared. I didn’t want to sound like an idiot on front of him. I didn’t know how to speak very intellectually about art.
“Hopefully, I don’t sound like an idiot.” I grinned and he laughed.
“I don’t think you could ever sound like an idiot, Lola.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow at him and laughed. “You don’t think that at all?”
“Not at all. I think you’d be surprised to know what I think of you.”
“What do you think of me?” I stood there waiting on pins and needles for his response.
“You already know I’m attracted to you. You know that I want to teach you.” His fingers wrapped around my ear as he brushed some strands of hair away from my face.
“What do you want to teach me?” I watched as he moved his mouth closer to mine and closed my eyes.
“Excuse me, please,” a lady shouted at us. “That’s not a very smart place to stop.” She pushed past us with a big bag and five bored-looking kids.
“Sorry,” I made a face at her as she walked by. I was pissed that she had ruined the moment for me, but I knew the middle of the museum wasn’t the place to be getting down and dirty.
“Shall we go and join the philistines?” Xavier moved away from me and started walking towards the entryway.
“Let’s do it.” I nodded and he grinned.
“I was hoping you would say that.” He grinned mischievously and I ignored him. Xavier confused me with his hot and cold emotions.
“I want to show you one if my favorite Renoir paintings first.” He walked through the gallery as if he owned it, and I followed behind him quickly. He stopped in front of a painting and I read the name card. The painting was called At the Theatre and showed a young girl and her companion sitting down facing the stage. However, all the other people in the theater were staring at her.