“Maybe a diet soda?”
He gave her a wink. “Absolutely. The salon is straight ahead. I’ll bring it out to you.”
“Thank you…?”
“It’s Chris.”
“Thank you, Chris.”
“You are very welcome,” he said with such sincerity she had to wonder at it.
She watched him walk down the hallway to the right and decided then and there to like him, no matter what he called Brian or the living room.
Hesitantly she crept through the entryway, her shoes echoing on the polished slate. The foyer opened into a large space where the ceiling stretched a lofty three stories. The back wall, facing the Gulf, was made almost entirely of glass. The serene turquoise glow from a large infinity pool lit up the scenery beyond. The interior décor was modern and minimalistic. The curved leather couches and hard-angled tables—all in shades of black and gray and accented with silver—stood out starkly against the glaring white walls.
Gen’s breath caught.
Recessed into the wall on her left was a very large painting, a riot of emotion and color in an otherwise lifeless room. The effect was awe-inspiring. There was really no other way to describe it. Brian owned a Kandinsky? She was absolutely green. It was probably a reproduction.
A throat cleared, breaking her from her trance. She turned to see Brian standing next to the black granite bar on the right side of the room. He was a vision of elegance in tailored charcoal slacks and black button-down shirt. Did the man even know the meaning of the word casual?
He seemed cool and aloof, until she looked into his eyes. The predatory gleam in those green depths made her feel as if he had plans to eat her for dinner. She thought briefly of the savage kiss they shared last week. He could project cold and icy all he wanted. She’d had a taste of the passion he hid beneath the surface.
“Um, hi.” She suddenly felt very small and out of place, standing before him in this grand house with her unnaturally red hair and funky clothes.
“Red this time.Very interesting and very bright.”
Her hand self-consciously flew to her vibrant locks. Was he making fun of her? “I’m sorry. Was I supposed to consult you first?”
“Sarcasm. And you haven’t even been here a full five minutes. No glasses tonight.” He sounded almost disappointed.
Maybe he had a geek-girl kink. That would definitely explain his attraction to her. Judging by the looks of his house, women must have flocked to him as they did a Black Friday sale. What he saw in her she had no idea.
She tapped her temple. “Contacts. In case…”
We get down and dirty.
“Well, I don’t know.” Face flushed, she turned back toward the painting.
Chris appeared with the diet soda she’d requested. She took the slim highball glass from him and murmured a quick thanks.
“Dinner will be served shortly. I hope you like sea bass.” Chris offered her a polite smile then headed off to the kitchen, she assumed.
“What is he? Your butler? Chef? Housekeeper?”
“A little bit of everything, I suppose. Chris manages the house for me, cooks on occasion, handles some of my affairs.”
A house manager, a luxurious home and priceless art all at the age of thirty-two? Brian lived on a different planet than she did. It was a lot to take in. “Is this an original Kandinsky?”
“Yes,” he answered, but offered nothing more.
She blew out a breath as she approached the masterpiece. She could stare for hours at the colliding forms and moody colors. “It’s beautiful. Is it your only piece?”
“The only Kandinsky.”
Wow, Brian was able to gaze at an original Kandinsky while he sipped a cocktail. Ugh. That irked her as much as it amazed her. She’d been to the local museums. St. Petersburg proudly boasted one of the largest Salvador Dali collections in the world. She’d spent more afternoons there than she could count. Unfortunately, books and the internet were her only means of enjoying work by other artists of his caliber. Seeing art firsthand was an entirely different experience.
“Okay, so I’m impressed. There, I said it. This house… Donovan’s has been very good to you.” There was no way he afforded all of this on the profit from the pub. He would see right through her little ruse, but she didn’t care. She wanted to know more about what she was getting herself into.
“Come sit.” He patted the matte-silver barstool next to him.
Wary, she closed the distance between them and took a seat on the cool metal. The bar—which, by the way, was fully stocked with premium liquors and even had a wine chiller—curved into a dimly lit dining room. Everything was so perfect, so cold in its modern brilliance. She was almost afraid to touch anything and had the mischievous urge to mess it up a bit, make it look more livable. God, if he ever saw her place, he would think she was a total slob.
“You had no problem finding your way?”
“Like I could miss it. The place is huge, Brian. I had no idea you had all of this.”
“Donovan’s isn’t my only financial venture.”
“You don’t say?” She smirked before taking a sip of her diet cola.
“My family owns Gulf Coast Wine and Spirits.”
Gen choked, coughing and sputtering. Brian quickly handed her a napkin and rubbed a comforting hand on her back.
“Are you all right?” He actually sounded concerned.
She nodded, attempting to catch her breath as she dabbed her mouth. Holy shit. His family owned one of the largest beverage distribution companies in the country? No wonder he could afford a Kandinsky.
When she felt she could safely continue without embarrassing herself further, she asked, “So why Donovan’s? I mean, it’s not like you need the income.”
He leaned an elbow on the bar, a smile softening his regal features. “I like it, working with people, getting my hands dirty, so to speak. The executive life seems rather boring in comparison. Don’t get me wrong, running the pub certainly has its dull moments, but I like that it isn’t the same job every day. The occasional bar fight, the atmosphere and smart-mouthed bartenders tend to keep things interesting.”
She purposely averted her eyes. “I have
no
idea what you’re talking about.”
He chuckled. “Let’s finish this conversation in the dining room. Chris should have dinner ready soon.”
She slid off her stool then followed him. The consummate gentleman, Brian pulled out one of the strangely curved chairs and gestured for her to sit. The table, a long, narrow affair in light gray, had already been set for two—one place at the head and another to the left. The nouveau dinnerware was an arrangement of flat squares and rectangles in brilliant vermillion and black. Brian took the seat next to her just as Chris arrived with two glasses and a bottle of wine.
She snapped out the black linen napkin that had been neatly folded on her plate and laid it across her lap. Chris gingerly placed the thin stemware before them then efficiently uncorked the Sauvignon blanc. He poured Brian a taste. After his boss approved the choice, Chris filled their glasses then promptly returned to the kitchen.
Who got served at their home as if they were in a fine-dining restaurant? Brian, obviously. Pretentious ass. The person he was at work showed hints of how cultured and refined he was, but she would never have guessed he was this wealthy.
Brian sipped his wine and studied her as if to gauge her reactions to what she’d discovered about him so far this evening. She tried not to fidget under the weight of his gaze as she took a small taste of the crisp, faintly floral white wine.
“Mm, this is very good.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said.
“You know, you don’t have to go through all this for me.” She’d have been perfectly happy with a pizza and a six-pack of beer. Admitting that would reveal just how out of her element she really was so she kept that bit of information to herself.
“This isn’t for you.” His matter-of-fact tone grated her nerves.
She didn’t doubt it for a second. He seemed to like watching her squirm. Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“Open the top three buttons of your blouse.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “
What?
”
“Lesson number one, I don’t like repeating myself. Undo the top three buttons of your blouse. I’d like to look at you.”
He really wanted her to let her bra hang out while they ate dinner? In front of Chris? She looked over her shoulder, trying to spot the friendly house manager.
“If you’re worried about tempting Chris, don’t. It’s not your gender he prefers and he’s quite used to my unusual proclivities. You should be more concerned with what I’ll do to you if you don’t follow my orders.”
Irritated, she frowned. “I haven’t agreed to this little arrangement of yours yet.”
“You’re here. Isn’t that agreement enough?”
He had a point, but his arrogant assumption didn’t make her want to obey him. Instead, she wanted to cross her arms over her breasts and demand they settle the details of their illicit affair before going any further. Somehow she didn’t think that attitude would bode well for her. She remembered the feel of him spanking her ass,
vividly
. She feared it as much as she craved it, or maybe she feared it because she craved it.
The idea of displaying herself for Brian during something as ordinary as dinner turned her on. That Chris would witness it only heightened the thrill. With a soft sigh, she undid the little spiders one at a time, trying to still her trembling fingers. When she finished with the third, she dropped her hands into her lap and forced herself to meet his gaze. The lacy balconette bra she’d worn lifted her breasts, but she still didn’t have much to show for it. Oh god, her nipple rings would be clearly visible beneath the sheer material.
He reached over and moved her blouse away from her breasts. Exposing them felt scandalous, lewd even.
“Beautiful.” He stroked his thumb over one of the pierced nubs, hardening it.
She glared at him, ignoring the way her body tingled from his touch.
“You’re just full of surprises. The nipple rings will make things interesting.”
“Oh?” The idea of him tugging on them, sucking them into his mouth, caused a sudden rush of wetness at the apex of her thighs.
“I would have guessed you liked your undergarments as you like your clothing, quirky and comfortable.”
“So I must wear granny panties because I like comfortable clothes? Didn’t your mother teach you not to judge a book by its cover?”
“
Your
mother obviously didn’t teach you to curb that tongue of yours.”
“Oh she tried. It just didn’t take.”
His eyes narrowed. “I think I’ll have much better success.”
A sarcastic remark died on her lips as Chris approached. Her nerves skittered, sending a wave of goose bumps across her arms. She risked a look at Brian. His expression was careful and controlled. She couldn’t read him at all. Was this small act of indecency as arousing for him as it was for her? Or was this another test? If he thought she’d be cowed, he was wrong. Instead of slouching in an attempt to hide her displayed breasts, she straightened her posture and raised her chin.
To Chris’ credit, he didn’t bat an eyelash when he placed what appeared to be a wild mushroom salad in front of her. He simply went about his business then returned to the kitchen as if nothing were amiss. Bravo.
“I was right to think there’s a bit of exhibitionist in you,” Brian commented.
“What makes you say that?”