Page 13 of The Collector's Temptation

I opened the door and helped her into her seat, then pulled the belt across her chest and clipped it into place. A smirk formed on my lips at her quick inhale when my arm brushed the hard tips of her breasts.

Merde. She had amazing tits, and I went fully hard all over again when I added fucking them to the list of things I planned to do to her eventually.

“Where are we going?” she asked once we were both settled in my car.

“Somewhere special,” I replied with a smirk.

It was clear that she was curious, but she remained silent.

“No more questions?”

She shook her head and laughed. “I love surprises.”

“Good to know.” I would enjoy using that to my advantage in the future. Although I doubted she’d like them quite as much if she ever found out what I was hiding from her.

The drive to Pullman Yards didn’t take long, and rather than pulling into the public parking, I drove around to the employee lot.

“Pullman Yards?” she mused inquisitively. “Why are we here?”

I smiled mischievously as I opened my door. “Patience, ma petite miette.”

By the time I exited the car and came around to help her out, I could see by the expression on her face that she had begun to work it out.

“This is where they’re holding the Atlanta Art Fair this weekend.”

“Oui.”

“But why are we here? The preview doesn’t open until tomorrow night.”

I winked and tapped her nose. “The VIP preview is tomorrow. The VVIP is tonight.”

“VVIP?” she asked with a giggle.

“Very,veryimportant person.”

Kerrigan’s eyes twinkled, and I couldn’t help giving her a quick kiss before taking her hand and leading her toward the private entrance to the building where the art stalls were set up.

“You’re taking me to see the art before the fair opens?” she asked in awe. The joy lighting her face caused warmth to bloom in my chest, and I fell for her just a little bit harder.

“I figured we would enjoy it best without the crowds, so I called in a favor.”

When we were a few feet away, the door opened and out stepped an older man dressed in a suit with a bow tie and glasses perched on his nose.

“Bonsoir, Aston,” Everard greeted me in a thick French accent with a warm smile. “Comment vas-tu, mon garçon?”

“Je survis…et je fais des ravages,” I answered, telling him I was doing well and causing trouble.

He chuckled. “Ah, alors rien n’a changé. Tu fais des ravages depuis le bac à sable.”

I shrugged with a lopsided smile. He was right. I had been causing trouble since I was a kid.

Gesturing to Kerrigan, I introduced her to my old friend. “Everard, this is Kerrigan Vale. An up-and-coming art curator at The Peachtree.”

Then I turned to my girl. “Meet Everard Durand. He was a friend of my father’s and has known me since I was a child.”

He was also a point of contact with a few of the auction houses in Atlanta, smoothing the way when we needed to slip a piece in through the cracks.

Kerrigan grinned impishly at Everard, her eyes twinkling. “So you’re the one I should come to for all of Aston’s cute and embarrassing stories?”

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