Page 158 of Devious Knight

Now I’m here with guy who wreaked havoc in my life and captured my heart.

We move from sculpture to sculpture with the admiring fans, then I hear Christian Degas’ hearty voice. He speaks with the hint of a French accent.

He’s talking to a group of people up ahead, looking exactly like his pictures online. If not better for someone in their late fifties.

Long black hair adorns his head with a Van Gough beard on his chin. He’s wearing a black elegant turtleneck sweater under a Kiton suit. He looks every bit as sophisticated as his art.

I get star struck, but when he looks my way and smiles, my head spins.

I grab Kade’s arm, and he strokes my back.

“You’ll be fine.” Kade smiles down at me.

“There she is,” Christian announces to the people around him, but he’s looking at me.

Why is he looking at me?

And who is he talking about?

Surely, she can’t be me?

But he’s looking at me like he’s talking about me.

“Kade—”

“Come on.”

I tear my gaze away from Christian and glance up at Kade.

He’s not smiling anymore. There’s a contemplative look on his face, but his eyes are soft and less guarded than I’ve ever seen them.

I allow him to guide me toward Christian. When we reach him, Kade releases me and steps back.

Christian’s smile widens, and the welcoming expression on his face is something I won’t forget.

“Welcome, Isabelle Kolyav,” he says, taking my hand with both of his.

He knows my name. There’s something going on here. There’s no way he’d recognize me just from my application for the scholarship. There were fifty students on the program, and I basically didn’t make the cut. Maybe that’s why he knows me.

No. That makes no sense.

And I realize I’m just staring.

“Mr. Degas. I’m such a huge fan of your work.” I can barely get the words out. “It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my dear. I was so thrilled to receive your sculpture and even more excited that you agreed to have it featured in tonight’s exhibition.”

My chest constricts and my skin suddenly feels like it's too tight for my body. I stare at him and wonder if I’ve fallen asleep. Because what is he talking about?

“My… sculpture?”

“Yes, come have a look. Everyone is as fascinated with it as I am. I couldn’t wait to meet you tonight.”

I blink several times in utter disbelief but will my legs to move when he ushers me forward.

We walk ahead, passing a few of Christian’s newer creations, and there, right there in the center of the room, is my sculpture. My lady in the meadow.

But how?

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