Page 76 of Tempt

It’s an art gallery.And I recognize one of the names on the poster in the window.

“Grace is having a show?”

Sam opens the door for me, and a hum of noise floods out. “It’s a VIP preview. The show opens next week.”

“This is where Alex was going!” I wave at Sam’s friend, and then with both hands at Grace, who I spot just past him. “Why didn’t you tell…”

That’s when I see it.

I know before he says anything that the twelve-foot-tall birdcage is mine, if I want it. If I will accept it from Sam. “That’s why,” I whisper.

He rubs his hand in the small of my back. “Do you want to go and see it up close? It creaks delightfully.”

I’m going to cry.

I don’t know why, but I’m going to make an embarrassing mess of myself in a moment. I turn into his chest and press my forehead against his body.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.” I drag in a deep breath and compose myself. When I look back, the crowd has parted, and we head in that direction. I stop halfway to congratulate Grace, but someone else grabs her, and then I’m free to move all the way to the back of the gallery.

“This isn’t Grace’s work, is it?”

Sam stops right behind me, his arm tight around my waist. “No. One of the other artists. A metal worker named Damien Noble.”

“Even if I hadn’t already agreed to go back and forth, I would move to the city to live with this.”

Sam laughs. “And me.”

“And you. Of course, and you.” I look up at him. “Who else would put me in this cage and let me write?”

His eyes flare, and his mouth tightens.

I school my features into delightful innocence. “How soon can we get it home?”

“They’ll deliver it after the exhibit.”

“Which ends…”

“In three weeks.” He drops a slow, promising kiss on my mouth. “But I have another surprise waiting for you at home.”

Home.

I can picture it. Making his loft a little more me, a little more us. This birdcage in the corner. I’m not kidding about wanting to write in it, maybe curled up on a velvet cushion.

Tearing myself away from the cage, I turn my attention to the other pieces by the metal worker. “This is all so very, very…kinky,” I whisper to Sam.

“There’s a reason for that,” he murmurs back. “The show was put together by the club owner you saw at Alex’s on New Year’s Eve. He was there to meet Grace.”

“What?”

Sam shifts my body until Zeke Devereaux is in my line of sight.

This night just gets better and better.

“Do you know him?”

“Never met the man. But we have a card for his club, surely that’s as good an ice breaker as any?”

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