Page 23 of The Promise
"Well, I shouldn't wonder if you insist on entertaining gentleman callers dressed like that."
Gentleman callers? "You were expecting a ball gown?"
"No. I was expecting something that covered more than the robe did." He glared at her, his gaze raking up and down her. Funny when he did it, she felt all hot and squirmy inside, but when Nick did it, she wanted nothing more than to slap him silly.
"Cara?" Nick.
"I've got to go. This will have to do." She pulled an oversized tee-shirt from another drawer. "Here, it wouldn't hurt you to cover up, too." She threw the shirt at him, watching as he snagged it one-handed. With a mock bow, he sent her a crooked smile that for all the world seemed a promise of things to come. She quelled a surge of desire. What had come over her? She waited until he moved out of range of the open door, then walked back into the living room, pulling the door closed behind her.
"There, that's better. Sorry to keep you waiting." She sat on the arm of a chair. Nick traced the curve of her calf with his eyesand she actually felt herself blush. Maybe shorts hadn't been the best idea. "Can I get you something to drink?"
He was settled on the sofa, one leg crossed casually over the other. He looked as if it were his home, not hers. Somehow the familiarity grated on her nerves.
"I'll take a Scotch, neat."
She was halfway to the cabinet when she remembered the Scotch was in the bedroom. What was left of it. Her heart couldn't stand another whispered conversation with Michael. She obviously was not cut out for subterfuge.
"I'm out."
Nick frowned. "What happened to the bottle I gave you?"
Another of his annoying habits. He seemed to find great delight in stocking her house with delicacies he wanted to have on hand. Quite presumptuous really. "It's gone. Gin?"
"Fine."
He didn't sound fine, but frankly, she didn't care. She dropped a couple of ice cubes in a glass and mixed the drink, being careful to go light on the gin. No sense in adding fuel to his lust-filled glances. "You said you had business to discuss."
She crossed to the sofa and held out his drink, a cheerful smile firmly in place.
"I want to talk about the paintings." He touched the glass, but rather than taking it, he slid his hand down to cover hers. Unless she upended the drink, she had little choice but to join him on the sofa.
"We've been down this road before, Nick." Several times.
"Look. I love the series, and I want them. It's as simple as that." He reached for the drink with his left hand, keeping her fingers entrapped in his right.
"You haven't even seen them. You sawThe Promiseonce for maybe five minutes. How could you possiblylovethem?"
"I know what I like, Cara mia." He shrugged. There was subtext here, but she be damned if she knew what it was.
"Well I'm flattered. But I've told you, the paintings are no longer mine to sell. They belong to Solais."
He leaned forward, tightening his fingers, a shadow of anger passing across his face. She winced and he loosened his grip, the shadow dissipating almost before it began. "You've already sent them?"
She pulled her hand free, absently rubbing it against her shorts. "No, although I should have. I've gotten most of them crated for shipping, but I need to finish up. I was planning to get in to the studio yesterday, but —"
"I know, you were unavoidably detained. Well, you'll simply have to tell them you've changed your mind."
"I can't do that. It's the Solais Gallery, and you know as well as I do that it's a miracle they wanted them in the first place. If I were to back out now, I'd never sell to them again."
"Well, we'll simply have to find a way around that. You can name your price."
"I'm sorry, Nick. I can't. I intend to honor the contract with Solais."
"Damn it, Cara, you're not being reasonable."
"I'll paint you something else."
"But I wantthosepaintings, Cara." He grabbed both her wrists in his hands.
