Mistress By Blackmail(50)

Every one of her paintings had a sold tag on them. The gallery owner was ecstatic in his praise, effusive in his desire to acquire anything she painted in the future. The crowd around her grew as she spun her stories, chuckled at every joke, charmed the living daylights out of everyone who entered her sphere.

Including him. The knowledge lodged like a stone in his gut.

“She's priceless, Marcus.” One of his mother's gaggle of crows swished to his side, the heavily-lined eyebrows like dark arrows pointing to her extravagantly curled hair. “Where did you find her?”

The churning inside him needed release. Why not stir his mother’s pot for once? “Actually, my momma was kind enough to bring Darcy to my attention.”

Aged eyes snapped with interest. “Really?”

“Si. As a connoisseur of art, I was happy to make the artist's acquaintance.”

“And launch her.”

He shrugged. “It was the least I could do.”

“Ah, so you've done even more for Ms. Moran.”

He noticed it wasn't a question. As a consequence, he didn't answer.

She arched one dramatic brow and gave him a moue of dissatisfaction. “You were always rather closemouthed, Marcus.”

“Si.” He'd learned the lesson well. Talking got a man in trouble. In business and especially with women. As long as he kept his thoughts to himself, he’d be fine.

Remember this when you are with Darcy.

“Oh, you.” The older woman batted his arm. “I won’t let you get away with it. Tell me what’s between you and this lovely girl.”

He gave her a grim smile. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Aaaah.” Her heavily lined eyes twinkled with glee. “I can’t wait to talk to your mother.”

Why was he not surprised? He wondered if his mother would take even a moment from her busy shopping and gossiping schedule to worry about him for a change. Worry he may be getting too deeply involved with an inappropriate woman.

He doubted it.

Darcy’s light laugh caught his attention once more.

“You can’t take your gaze off her.” The woman at his side cooed.

Her words weren’t an accusation, yet he felt the sting of it nevertheless. It was a truth he did not want to acknowledge or accept. It ate into him, the knowledge that somehow this little bit of a woman had penetrated the wall he’d erected to keep everyone out.

Clearly, he would need to do some rebuilding.

Bed her. Then you will be free of her.

Si. This was the plan he needed to focus on. All he needed was one more kiss from her, and he would take control. Make it happen. Then this breach of the wall around his emotions would once again be sealed.

He noted Darcy’s warm smile, but also the shadow of exhaustion under her eyes. He’d had enough of this event, and obviously she had, too. “If you will excuse me.”

Within moments, he’d skillfully extracted her from her admirers, signaled for the limo, and had her safely tucked inside it as they sped back to his penthouse. Leaning on the side of the door, he watched her as she smoothed the edges of her coat down.

Touching, he noted with sardonic humor, always touching.

The need for her to willingly touch him once more swept through him with a raging passion.

“Thank you.” Her gaze was glued to her hands.

“Prego,” he replied, trying in vain to curb his mounting desire.

Finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were wide and brimming with tears.

“No.” All thoughts of sex crashed inside him. “No crying.”

“I’m sorry.” She forced a grin as she swiped at the tears. “I’m not usually a watering pot.”

“Really?” He handed over his white handkerchief. “That surprises me.”

Her muffled chuckle was her response.

A long moment later, she dropped her hands to her lap. Her cheeks were wet, still it appeared the bout of emotion had subsided, much to his relief.

“Better?”

“Yes. Fine.” When she looked at him once more, her gaze was a clear, deep blue. “It’s…it’s been a very emotional evening for me.”

“Si.”

His short, clipped word brought a shadow across her face, yet she straightened her spine. “I meant the showing of my art. It’s always been a dream of mine.”

“Which makes me curious,” he responded. “I remember footing the bill on a rather large gallery showing for my brother and his friends a few years ago. A graduation present.”

Her gaze shot down to her lap.

“It’s surprising he did not include his lover’s work in the showing.” The reminder of her past love life with his brother made him want to howl. “Don’t try and lie to me. I would have remembered your work if it had been there. It is distinctive.”