Page 46 of Love Me Sweet

“I’m not blaming you.” Her eyes sparkled. “I was as hot to hop into the sack as you were.”

An older woman with silver grey hair and a black cane with a shiny silver handle turned an assessing gaze in direction. After only a second, she smiled and turned back to her companion, an older gentleman with a neatly trimmed goatee wearing a beret.

“Back to the topic at hand.” Sylvie slowed her steps to put some distance between them and the older couple. “Was taking over the company always in your plans?”

This would be the time to bring up Thomas. He’d always felt guilty for not speaking more of his brother. Though what had happened wasn’t a secret, the accident wasn’t something often brought up in his family. It was just too painful.

Andrew didn’t want to go back down that road, not tonight. The evening was off to a good start. And Sylvie was in an upbeat mood. Later, they could discuss it.

“Is that one of the galleries we should check out?” Andrew gestured with one hand, hoping she’d let it go for now. “Judging by all the people streaming inside it appears to be a popular place.”

“It’s very popular.” Sylvie pulled a brochure from her purse. She read for a second then glanced back at him. “They’re featuring the works of a big-time Montana wildlife painter.”

Andrew couldn’t help it, his lips twitched. He rubbed his chin as they stopped and stepped to the side. “Big time, eh? Is that what it says in the brochure?”

She swatted him with the rolled up piece of paper. For a second it was as if the past three months away from each other had never been. “If you want the exact words, Mr. High Society, I’ll read them to you.”

Somehow Andrew managed to keep a straight face. “I’d appreciate that courtesy.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes and began to read, “presenting new works by acclaimed Montana wildlife artist Kyle Sims.’”

Andrew experienced a flash of recognition. “I know his works. Or rather of them. The artist is well-known for the natural realism of his works. One of my father’s friends owns several paintings.”

“Well then you should enjoy the show. It says these are new studio paintings.”

When they walked into the large gallery, Andrew realized somehow her hand was back in his. He tucked it through his arm, drawing her even closer to him as they began to stroll.

The air seemed to buzz with electricity, or maybe it was that familiar charge that hit him whenever Sylvie was close. Just as it was difficult to tell if the intoxicating floral scent came from her shampoo or from the cylindrical silver urns filled with towering gladioli, hydrangeas and palms placed strategically around the gallery.

A waiter dressed in black tie, holding a tray of champagne flutes paused to ask if they’d like a glass.

Andrew lifted two glasses from the tray and handed one to Sylvie.

“Trying to get me drunk?” Sylvie teased, raising the glass to her lips.

“I’d prefer you be fully conscious for what I have in mind for later,” he shot back, enjoying the easy repartee.

It had been like this from the beginning, Andrew realized, an easy give-and-take coupled with light-hearted teasing always underscored by a punch of lust.

They moved to inspect a painting that depicted a red fox standing on a rock formation looking over his shoulder.

“I love this.” Sylvie’s eyes widened with admiration. “It’s so real I feel as if I’m there. It’s like he’s taunting me, saying, ‘are you going to follow me or not?’”

Andrew could tell her admiration was sincere. “You really like it?”

She nodded. “Don’t you?”

He simply nodded then put his palm against the small of her back and guided her to the next painting. By the time they’d made it through the gallery, Sylvie had found plenty of paintings she liked but none as much as the red fox.

“Would you mind waiting for me while I check out the rest room?”

Andrew smiled. “I can amuse myself.”

While she was away, he strode over to one of the gallery employees and conducted some business. Once that was concluded he followed up on several of his clients back in Boston. While he felt confident in the ability of the doctor he’d left in charge, these were his patients and one of them, Mrs. Whitaker, had been struggling with some recent health setbacks.

He’d just pocketed his phone when he saw Sylvie crossing the gallery floor. For tonight’s event, she wore a simple skirt and top in a blue that made her eyes look like violets. Though he’d always liked her hair with its riot of curls, this new sleek version was also attractive.

Judging from the admiring glances sent her way, he wasn’t the only man who’d noticed.

Mine.

The thought came swift and hard. Though it wouldn’t be that way forever, for now, for as long as he remained in Jackson Hole, they were a couple.

Andrew didn’t wait for her to come to him. He crossed the room with long strides. When he reached her, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Not the kind of kiss a friend would give a friend, but one a man would give a woman he desired.

“What was that for?” Sylvie’s laugh was breathless as the kiss ended and she stepped back.

“Consider it,” he couldn’t stop the quick flash of a grin, “an appetizer.”

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