Page 118 of Sinful Blaze

He never says anything. Never touches me. He just sits there, assumes I’m sleeping, and stares off into the dark.

Last night was one of those nights. He sat down next to me, sighed, and gazed at the wall for a while. I didn’t say anything, too afraid to break whatever spell had him bewitched. Then he got up, went into the bathroom, and took a shower before heading off to sleep on the couch.

This morning, he insisted on taking me to work himself. No special occasion, and my guards were perfectly capable of doing it themselves. But Pasha calmly stated this was happening, ushered me into the car an hour earlier than I usually leave, and took us to the drive-thru for a vitamin smoothie and pastry.

He seemed on edge. I asked him about it, but he just forced a smile and shook his head.

“It’s nothing,” he said. “Really.”

“Is it anything I did?”

He turned to look at me. “No. Why would you think that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I just worry.”

“Don’t. You’re fine. We’re fine.” He sighed. “I just have this feeling that something’s up.”

I get what he means. Sometimes, I feel like something bad is going to happen. That someone is about to ruin things right when it’s all been so wonderful.

I feel that almost every day.

It’s sitting in my stomach while I sip down the last of my smoothie. That feeling of foreboding, like someone is about to walk into my office and break some terrible news.

Or—as it turns out to happen—Conrad’s face appearing in the doorway.

“Hey, NayNay!”

Oh, dear Lord… I try not to choke on the straw and set the cup down. “Um, hey there. Are you looking for Todd? Or Keith?”

Conrad shakes his head, still grinning. “I’m here to see you.”

Fuck.

I straighten out my dress as I stand. Thank God I chose the dark blue, cowl neck sweater style that goes below my knees and just meets the tops of my boots. Absolutely nothing about this outfit can send him mixed signals.

“I didn’t see a meeting on the calendar.” I take a glance at my laptop screen just to make sure. “Actually, we’re not scheduled until?—”

He cuts me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I was in the neighborhood. Had some ideas for the gallery placement and wanted to run them by you. Do you have some time?”

I have to admit, I’m taken by surprise at how professional he’s being. I never expect anyone to change overnight, but damn, can I hope. “Oh. Uh, sure. I can spare a few minutes, I think.”

His grin widens. Conrad holds the door open for me, giving me plenty of space to walk through without brushing past him.

“I found a few pieces that I’d love to feature in this new show, ones that I put aside as rejects but now, I’m having second thoughts.” He gestures at one wall of the showroom the moment we step inside. “The response at the last showing really favored similar themes and palettes, so this may be a great way to save time while refreshing interest.”

The petty side of me wants to ask him if he’s painting a new abstract nude. The rest of me doesn’t want to know either way. “How many are you looking to bring out for this section?”

“About five or six.” He turns to smile at me. “What do you think?”

“Depending on the size of each canvas, we should be able to make that work.”

“You’re always good at that.”

“Huh?” Shit. He’s giving me The Eyes now. Those same puppy-dog eyes that he’d give when he wanted to convince me of something, like, How could I ever cheat on you? Is this the face of a man who’d step out on you?

Why, yes, asshole. It is.

Conrad steps closer to me, so I take a step back. He does it again, and again, all the while cooing his compliments at me. “You. Your brilliant mind. You always know how to make things work, even when they shouldn’t. Like us.”

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