Page 136 of Cruel Dominion

“So can I, little siren. So can I.”

Let’s see who would break first.

EPILOGUE

ANNA

THE ANNA COLE EXHIBIT

“Do you want me to take you home?”

I shook my head vigorously, but I was tempted. I was sweating, and if I’d eaten anything today, I would’ve thrown it up already.

“I can’t go home. This is my first show.”

Carter and I lingered in the museum’s back office, waiting for the official reception to start. I finally stopped pacing and sat down in an armchair. He came behind me to rub my tense shoulders. His firm fingers worked the knots that had situated themselves there over the last several weeks planning the exhibition.

I sighed, relaxing into the sensation.

“Artists don’t have to be present at their shows. That’s what the curator is for.” He pressed a kiss to one of my temples.

Yeah, and I would leave, eventually, but I’d been waiting for this day for months. Technically, I’d been waiting for this day for years.

When I first decided I wanted to be a photographer, this was what I envisioned. An exhibit where I could use my images to tell a story and watch as the people slowly made their way through, finding that story one photograph at a time.

“Do you know how many people are outside?”

“I didn’t count them. Maybe a hundred?” Carter offered with a shrug. I turned around, frowning at him. He cupped my face and kissed me.

“Maybe?” I snapped, more annoyed than I needed to be. We weren’t all used to being right in the middle of the spotlight, though I should’ve been more used to it by now, after all the insanity of my father’s trial and the press that came with it.

For the first month, I could barely leave the beach house without putting the paparazzi in danger of being offed by my fiancé for coming too close.

“You got this, okay? You do it all the time. Milling around a crowd and making small talk? You’re a pro.”

If he was referring to the stuffy formal events I used to go to with my family, and now with him, yeah, I was. That didn’t mean I enjoyed them.

This was different.

Here, I was showing people my photographs. Putting a piece of myself on display. Somehow I couldn’t have felt more exposed even if I walked out there stark naked.

“If we go out there and you decide you’d rather hear the praise later in the paper and from the curator than right from the public’s mouth, we’ll say our goodbyes and leave right then.”

I closed my eyes, comforted by his tight grasp. But I knew there was another reason he was so eager to get me out of here. Why he didn’t really want me presenting in person at all.

And that reason just kicked, making me wrap a protective arm over my swollen belly.

“Okay,” I allowed.

“You know what beats stress?” Carter’s dark brow raised deviously. “Orgasms. Lots and lots of orgasms.”

I pushed him away as he laughed.

“I am not having sex in the museum’s office,” I snapped, unable to keep the smile off my face. Carter was so many things at once, it was hard to keep up. Living with a boyfriend wasn’t new to me, but living with him was. I was still uncovering new sides and shades of him every day. Some familiar, some not.

But each day I stayed with him, he seemed to relax into us just a little more and little by little, that boy on the beach was coming back to life.

“Nobody’s going to walk in. Besides, the door locks,” he said dubiously. “I checked.”

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