Page 29 of The Temptation
“How’s that going?”
I shrugged. “Not bad. Slow.”
That was an understatement. I’d written a few shorter pieces in the past, though nothing I’d been willing to share with the public. This was the first one an entire orchestra would play in public, and it was going very slowly. Panic hadn’t set in yet, but it was coming if I didn’t score a breakthrough soon.
“But never mind the music; tell me when you need me and I’ll be the most doting, loving boyfriend in existence.”
“Thoughtful and well-behaved is more than enough for me.”
“Boring. So very boring.” I sighed. Pierce didn’t need more boring in his life. He needed fun and excitement.
After our chat, Pierce didn’t appear to be in the mood to linger, or even chat with the few people he appeared to recognize. Pierce grabbed my hand and led me through the foyer as they were beginning their welcome and thank-you speeches. Not something I was interested in sticking around for.
“Don’t you want to check any of your bids? Maybe update the first one you made? You seemed interested in getting that one.”
Pierce shook his head. “No, it’s fine. If I win one, that’s good. If not, it’s not a big deal. I snagged the business card of the artist. I can always commission something later if I don’t win.” He passed me my winter coat as he received it from the check woman. “Unless you want me to check my bid for that statue.”
“No! No! It’s fine. Part of the excitement is seeing if the bid gets through to the end. When will you find out if you’ve won?”
“Probably in the next few days.”
We walked outside to find a short line of people waiting for the valet to bring their cars out. Clearly, we weren’t the only ones interested in escaping the speeches. An icy wind rattled the bare trees and swept across the hill the museum sat on in Eden Park. Dried leaves raced across the concrete. I shivered and ducked my head closer to my shoulders. My wool coat wasn’t very heavy, but it complemented the suit I’d chosen to wear. Plus, I hadn’t planned to stand outside much.
“Where’s your scarf?” Pierce demanded.
“Huh?” I glanced up to find him unwinding the long charcoal-gray-and-red scarf he had artfully wrapped about his throat, making him appear both warm and sophisticated. That was not something I was naturally good at—the sophisticated part. I didn’t care if Ilookedwarm.
Growing up, all my attention had been on being the best violinist. The agent my parents had hired to help with my career had handed me over to a stylist to fix my wardrobe. Even now, she would still have clothes sent to me along with instructions on how to wear things.
There was no chance for me to argue. Pierce placed his scarf behind my neck and worked on getting it snugly fitted and tucked around me to keep my throat, cheeks, and even some of my chest warm. I opened my mouth to remind him I didn’t need him treating me like a child, but the words died on my tongue as the first rich whiff of his cologne danced past my nose. Oh God, itwas like being encased in him. I could feel his warmth and smell him. The cologne I’d detected a hundred times took on new, deeper notes because it had bits of Pierce with it.
He leaned close, his lips parted, likely to admonish me to take better care of myself, but I didn’t let him speak. I pushed upward onto the tips of my toes, pressing my lips to his, stealing a kiss before he ran from me. But he didn’t pull away. His lips softened under mine, moving so gently, seeming to welcome the unexpected contact.
But in the next second, he was ripping away from me. I opened my eyes, mentally prepared for an angry glare or frustration, but was met with only a mix of fear and pain in his wide brown eyes.
“You…I…shouldn’t have done that,” Pierce stammered in an agonized whisper.
“No, we should be doing a lot more of that. I’m sure we’d be very good at it.”
The pain cleared from his face and the irritation returned, which worked to remove some of the knots in my stomach. I could deal with him being annoyed, frustrated, or even angry with me, but I couldn’t stand the idea of our kiss causing him pain.
“Sir? Sir?”
The sharp voice of the young valet cut through the tension. Pierce straightened, and we turned to see the valet holding the passenger-side door open for me.
“Thank you,” Pierce murmured as he handed him a folded bill and took his place at the door to help me inside, as if he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else touching me.
I sat in the car, one hand absently stroking the fine cashmere scarf Pierce had so carefully wrapped around my neck. He was never getting this back. No one had ever shown such care for my person.
Pierce was a walking contradiction in everything he said and did. He was caring, thoughtful, and protective—all the best, most enticing green flags—but his mouth was a goddamn red flag. This was why I needed to keep kissing him. It was imperative that I keep his mouth busy so he couldn’t say ridiculous things like we couldn’t kiss or we couldn’t date in real life. The sooner he learned to go along with my brilliant plan, the happier we would all be.
9
PIERCE SUTTON
“What are we doing here?”
“I need cheese.”
