Page 6 of Hayes

“Yes?”

“What do you think?” As if aware she had displeased him in some way, Simone kept her tone light.

“It’s lovely.” Focusing his attention on her, he turned to look at the piece, admiring the brilliant stroke of the brush on the canvas. “Very appealing. But it’s not one of Jackson’s works.”

“It’s not.” She seemed pleased to see that he was out of whatever it was that was making him so moody as if she didn’t already know. “It’s a new artist. Jerome, someone.”

“Thinking of acquiring it for the museum?”

“For my own collection. What do you think?”

“Don’t you already have enough pieces?” he asked teasingly.

Simone laughed softly, tucking her hand through his arm and happy to see his mood changing. “One can’t have too much art.”

*****

Camelia had never acted so much in her life. She was constantly aware of his presence and did her best to ignore the pull that had always been there between them.

“Excuse me, please," she told the group with a smile and made her way from the room. She needed air. It felt as if she was suffocating.

Pushing the glass doors open, she stepped out onto the balcony and leaned against the rails, breathing in the fresh air. Thank God the heat had dissipated. September had come in with humidity and heat as if the summer was refusing to depart.

She had almost refused Celeste’s order to attend the gallery opening because she was not yet ready to face society. But she had been determined to get it over and done with. She couldn’t hide forever.

A sigh escaped her when she heard the doors sliding open. She was about to turn around and leave when she stiffened. In the past, she always knew when he was around. It was not just the scent of his cologne; during that time, they had been so acutely aware of each other that it had been uncanny.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him.

“I was just going back inside," she lied; hands clenched at her sides.

“Were you?” There was a cynical twist to his lips that had her staring. “Why did you come?”

“I am doing a piece on the artworks–”

“Why did you come back to town? Why not stay in Europe?”

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin. “It happens to be my home, and it was time.”

“Why?” he persisted, taking a few steps toward her.

Camelia forced herself to stay where she was, even though every instinct inside her was screaming at her to run. “That’s none of your business.”

“You left so abruptly, without saying anything, just left and cut off all communications with the people in your life.” His green gaze swept over her face. “And now you are back.”

“You know why I did.” Her gaze was pleading. “It was too much, and my aunt… she wanted us to leave immediately.”

“Did she also advise you not to keep in touch?”

“I did that all on my own.”

He had thought she could not hurt him any more than she already did, but he was wrong.

“I see.”

“It was for the best.”

“For whom?”

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