Page 18 of Ruthless Beast

“Are any of these yours?” he asks, looking around.

“As a matter of fact,” I say, pointing to a large canvas, “I hung this one just this morning.”

Lucas takes his time looking it over before he speaks.

“David was right. You are very talented.”

His words excite me. Others’ opinions on my work seldom affect me. I’m not sure why Lucas’ comment strikes at the core of my being. Is it because he’s so ridiculously handsome? I'd have to be blind not to notice.

“Thank you. Do you enjoy art?”

“I do indeed.”

“Who’s your favorite artist?”

“I know it sounds lame, but I don’t have a favorite. I’m a firm believer in allowing my gut to dictate on the day.”

“Smart. Art appreciation is definitely connected to one’s mood. Some days I paint dark and foreboding pieces. Other days, I’m all butterflies and candyfloss.”

“I take it you were in a good mood when you painted this,” he smiles as he studies the piece on the wall.

“I was. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?”

Lucas says he’s here by happenstance, but my gut tells me he has other intentions.

“I like it. Will you deliver it to my home?”

“You want to buy my painting?”

I wasn’t expecting this.

“Of course. It’s an excellent investment, I’m sure. One day, when you’re a famous artist, I’ll be able to boast that I knew you way back when,” he smiles. “What else are you working on?”

“You’re not pushing for a discount if you buy more than one piece, are you?” I tease.

“Damn straight,” he grins.

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

Lucas follows me to the back of the gallery. I’m acutely aware of his presence so close behind me. It’s intoxicating.

“This is my newest creation. It’s a little darker than the other one.”

“Brooding. I like it. An interesting face in the background.”

“I’m surprised you noticed. Most people miss it.”

“I don’t miss much,” he says, his green pools resting on me.

There’s something about this man that has me all thumbs. Perhaps it’s his intense stare. It could be the way he looks into my soul. Whatever the reason, Lucas has me intrigued.

“I’d love to see it when it’s completed,” he says.

“I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

Lucas stares at me for a long while, making my knees a little weak in anticipation of what he’s about to say next.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

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