"Mr. Kincaid, just what are you up to?"
Pushing open the door, he gestured her inside, then followed. Ava felt a hand press against her back, and suddenly she was flush against the door as he closed it, staring up at the pulse in his throat.
"It's called seduction, Ava." His breath whispered against her temples, and his thumb brushed beneath her jaw. "I told you I wanted you to be aware of what you should expect, of just what you're agreeing to. This is your last chance to say no."
She swallowed, uncertain what sort of thing might make her consider backing away from this bargain. She wanted it so very much, after all. "Just what sort of art gallery is this?"
Kincaid had the sort of smile that might have graced Lucifer himself. "I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."
Without another word, he pushed away from her, greeting the red-liveried servant who was hovering circumspectly. Kincaid paid him, and then held out a hand toward her.
If you dare, his eyes seemed to say.
Ava stared across the sumptuous red carpets, taking in the gilt on the ceiling and the dark mahogany panels on the walls. Kincaid stood amongst it all, dressed in black, looking like some feudal warlord. He'd always had rough-hewn, somewhat savage features. The only thing lacking was an axe in his hands.
It felt a little like stepping into temptation itself, but she was curious. One last chance to turn around.... Heart kicking a little in her chest-or perhaps skipping a gear-Ava swept toward him. She was tired of her sheltered existence. Tired of always being overlooked. Surely Kincaid wasn't leading her too far astray-she trusted him to look out for her.
Kincaid took her hand, staring down into her eyes. Not surprised, so much as viciously pleased with her decision. "Didn't think you'd do it."
"I'm a woman of my word."
"Yes, but we're skirting dangerous territory in your eyes, Ava." His voice roughened. "You're the type of woman who likes to know what lies ahead, and in your worldview, we just stepped off the edges of the map. Here be dragons, kitten...."
Dragons. She almost smiled. "It's a good thing I'm a virgin then."
Startled blue eyes locked on hers, and then his smile dissolved into something smug. "Not for long, sweet Ava. Not if I have my way with you."
He handed her a guidebook, took her hand in his, and led her along the plush red carpets.
"What is this?" she whispered, for the front cover depicted a naked woman draped in red cloth, one who glanced over her shoulder at the viewer with a naughty expression.
"You've seen anatomical diagrams, yes? I thought we could at least start with something you had some experience with. The owner of the gallery is a man I know. I created a piece of artwork for him several years ago-a private, very wicked commission fused of metal. I've paid him for the hour. Nobody will disturb us. It's the sort of place that offers exclusive entertainment."
"Just how much did you pay him?" she whispered, glancing over her shoulder to find the servant. He'd vanished.
She was all alone with a man who intended to ravish her.
Ava couldn't wait. A burst of excitement flooded through her.
"You don't want to know." Kincaid pushed open a door and led her into a hallway.
Windows further along the hallway let in a wash of gray light, but the carpeted path was silent and empty. Candles flickered as Kincaid shut the door behind them-and locked it.
"There's nothing here," she whispered, staring at the red velvet curtains on the walls.
Kincaid reached for the nearest velvet covering, and then hauled it away from a painting with a flourish.
It wasn't a diagram.
Ava sucked in a sharp breath as her mind made sense of what she was seeing. Rich dark colors splayed across the canvas, highlighting its main focus, and the frame was gilt.
There was a naked woman on her knees, the pale globes of her breasts luridly graphic. A man knelt behind her, one hand curled around the woman's hip and the other clenched in her hair, forcing her head back until the woman's spine arched in an almost obscene-
It all hit her at once. What the man was doing to the woman in the painting.
And every inch of her went still.
Every inch of her was hot and cold all at once.
Kincaid watched her, clearly digesting her every thought. Ava swallowed hard, gaze flickering from the painting to Kincaid, then back to the painting again.
It was nothing like her anatomical diagrams.
She stepped closer, her fingers running over the oil-roughened canvas. The man's lip curled, his hips thrusting forward as he filled the woman from behind with his... his penis.