Page 19 of His Rules

I was suddenly hot under the collar, shocked just how much the girl in the picture looked like my mystery lover. Wow. Maybe I was seeing things that weren’t really there. I laughed to myself and sipped my drink.

“You have excellent taste,” a girl’s voice said.

I tipped my head to find the artist standing beside me. “This is a joyful depiction of allowing the darker side that exists in all of us to find the light.”

I had no idea where that had come from, but it was exactly the way I felt about the painting. It evoked my darkest needs. “I’ll take it.”

It was a whim purchase, something I never did, but, in my mind, the permanent reminder of such a special evening was well worth the sudden buy.

“Don’t you want to know how much it costs?” The artist was obviously shocked.

“I don’t care. I’ll strike a check when you’re ready.”

“I’ll mark it sold. Thank you.”

“Of course.” I continued staring at it until I felt a presence behind me.

“I had no clue you’d be here. I think my heart might stop.”

Hearing my best friend’s voice from behind me brought the second smile of the night to my face. Daniel Taylor and I went way back. He’d been a senior in college when I’d met him, myself a freshman and I’d managed to lead my rowing team to victory over his. After almost beating each other to a pulp, we’d become fast friends and had remained that way ever since.

I turned around and for the first time since our days of sparring, a moment of fury rushed into my system. Clinging to his arm was the woman I’d met three nights before. The surprise in her eyes was evident, her crimson polished lips pursing just as they’d done when I’d buried my face in her pussy.

The moment of sheer jealousy was something else new for me to experience. I never became the green-eyed monster, but that’s exactly what was happening right now. “Good to see you, Danny. I figured I needed a breath of fresh air and something different.”

“I see your tastes in art are similar to your tastes in women.” Daniel nodded toward the painting.

I looked over my shoulder, noting the artist had already marked it as sold.

“Yes, well, just trying to venture out. You can’t simply enjoy rare filet all the time and never get bored.” I was being a little crass without his knowledge, but the strange coldness and anger I felt inside had caught me off guard. “And who is your lovely companion?”

He narrowed his eyes as if telling me I’d lost more of my mind. “You don’t remember Elizabeth?”

“Dad, I go by Kacey now.” Yes, her voice was the same as three nights before, the smoky tone just another reminder that I’d fucked up.

I’d slept with my best friend’s daughter. How had I not recognized her?

“You look like you don’t know me,” she said.

How had she not recognized me? Because the times I’d seen her before, her dad had insisted she call me Mr. Winfield. “You’ve changed.” A great deal. Now I remembered. The last time I’d laid eyes on her had been just before she’d left for Columbia University. She’d been a seventeen-year-old kid with a gangly structure, wearing her signature braids and little makeup.

She’d changed significantly, becoming a beautiful, voluptuous woman.

And I hadn’t recognized her.

Fuck me. “Honey. You remember Mr. Winfield. Don’t you?”

“Just Sebastian.”

I took a gulp of my drink, trying my best to act nonchalant, but goddamn it, I was failing. Her dad would kick my ass and then some if he knew what had occurred between us. I’d often called the man a prude in how he handled raising her, but without her mother, he’d had his hands full.

Especially since his career had skyrocketed.

She held out her hand, finally managing to get herself together. “Now I remember, although it would seem as if we’ve all changed. You have gray hair at your temples.”

Her rebellious side had kicked in, the one that had attracted me to her in the first place. Her lips were now tightly pressed together and the look in her eyes was fierier than when we’d been together. We didn’t need to poke each other as a reminder that what had occurred could never be mentioned.

Nor could it ever happen again.

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