“We’ll open an account for you. I’ll direct money into—”
“No. You aren’t going to give me money, Mr. Morrow. What you’re going to do is help me find a job.”
Chapter 7
Art galleries. Why was it always art galleries?
Pandora squinted as the flashes of the paparazzi’s cameras lit up the night the moment she stepped out of the limo. Jax got out behind her, his arm, heavy and possessive, sliding around her waist. Providing the photo opportunity this whole evening was in aid of.
An exclusive charity bash at an old renovated Tribeca warehouse where a new pop-up gallery was showing some work from some up-and-coming new artists. The third of Donovan’s organized “outings” engineered to introduce Jax Morrow’s fiancée to society and the world at large.
The previous two—a lunch at Simon’s, one of Manhattan’s newest and most ridiculously exclusive restaurants, then the day before that an apparently “casual” shopping date at Barneys—had been deliberately low key. But this one was their first “official” appearance together and the press had been primed.
Pandora found it a little overwhelming.
Jax’s hand at her back as they joined the stream of people entering the gallery was distracting, too, which didn’t help. He’d insisted on the gown she was wearing, which was red—his apparent preference—and almost backless. Again. It meant his fingers touched her bare skin and that was so not a good idea when the chemistry between them was still burning just as brightly as it had that night three days ago. The past couple of nights of hot sex hadn’t done a thing to make it burn any less bright, either, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else but dirty thoughts.
Inside, a glass of champagne appeared in her hand and the round of society introductions began. After a while her face began to ache with the polite smile she’d had fixed onto it. God, how the hell was she going to remember who everyone was? Not that she really needed to, not when she and Jax wouldn’t be permanent fixtures together anyway. In the end, this was all for show.
“Are you okay?” Jax murmured in her ear, maneuvering her a bit away from the group of people they’d been talking to. “You look a bit … ”
“Overwhelmed?” She shivered as his breath brushed over her neck, making her skin prickle with heat. “Yes. I’m not used to this many people.”
They were on a railed walkway that ran around the sides of the main warehouse space, the glittering society crowd moving below. The place had an industrial feel to it, lots of exposed brick and concrete floors, the lighting discreet and hidden except for where it spotlighted the art on the walls. Extra atmosphere was provided by candles placed in lots of smoky glass holders on various different surfaces, the light flickering and dancing.
“You’re doing very well.” His fingers, resting against her spine, stroked gently against bare skin, a tender gesture. He’d touched her like this on the other two dates they’d had and initially she’d found it disconcerting. Casual displays of affection had been few and far between in her life and she didn’t know quite how to handle it. By the second date, though, she’d got used to his touches. Had come to like them in fact. They made her feel good. Affection was something she’d been starved of for a long time and now that she knew what it felt like, she wanted more.
She tried to repress the tremble of delight that went through her as his fingers skimmed higher, glancing up to see if he’d noticed. He wasn’t looking at her, his attention roving over the crowds below the walkway, still absently stroking her back. He was wearing a tux tonight and God, he looked amazing, candlelight casting shadows over his strong, intense face. The formality of his clothes only emphasized the dangerous quality of him, that element of primitive power that had attracted her so powerfully the night they’d met.
It was odd that even though they’d spent time together the past couple of days—mostly on those dates it had to be said—he still remained as much an enigma to her now as he had been the night they’d met in the bar. When they’d talked, it had mostly been him offering her jobs, while the other times … Well, they’d been too busy giving each other pleasure for anything else.
Not that there was any reason for them to get to know each other, not when this would all be over soon enough anyway. But still, it felt wrong. He was her first lover and apart from some media gossip and the fact that he ran New York’s biggest company, she knew next to nothing about him.
“Tell me something,” she said impulsively. “Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”