against her neck, loving
the way she shivered. "I can tell you I'm going to take you on your
balcony."
He heard her intake of breath.
She said nothing for a long moment, simply watching him. Then she said,
"Why didn't you tonight?"
"Tonight I'm getting to know
you." He traced a finger down her neck. "Tomorrow I'll get to know
you better."
She stared at him, and then nodded.
"Tomorrow then."
"I'll pick you up at
three."
She frowned. "You aren't
working?"
"Some things are more
important than work."
"This?"
He kissed her softly.
"Definitely this."
Chapter Nine
Leilani held a copy of the
gallery layout in her hand, but instead of picturing art on the walls she saw
Colin pressing her against the whiteness, taking her the way he'd promised he
would—thoroughly and in every way possible.
"Leilani."
Mel's sharp voice broke into her
daydream. "Sorry. What were you saying?" Leilani asked, trying to
focus.
"Just go primp for him. If I
know Colin, he'll be here early, and you aren't any good to me in the state
you're in. Honestly, Leilani. What has he done to you?"
Nothing yet, but she really hoped that was going to change in
an hour.
Mel rolled her eyes. "If I
am ever so pathetic about a man, push me off the Tower."
"I heard something about a
Latin polo player..."
Her new friend's face flushed
with color. "He was Argentinean, and I was young. But I'll rephrase my
statement. If I'm ever so pathetic about a man again , push me off the Tower." Turning, she answered her
ringing phone.
Mel was right—she was pathetic. But once she got this out
of her system she'd be able to concrete again. Hopefully.
She went to the bathroom in the
back of the gallery.
It was almost time. Would he take
her home? Would he come in here and take her? Mel was around, but just from the
couple days she'd been here she knew Mel would be on the phone. The gallery had
all sorts of nooks and crannies where one could hide away.
It was familiar yet so different,
from the layout to the light. She wondered if it had to do with the sun, that
the light in her gallery was warm and laid back. Here, the light was somehow
stark and intense—bright white instead of a sunny yellow.
Still, even though King's Gallery
had more of a busy city feel, it wasn't off-putting. Mel's Gallery invited you
in and took you on a journey. Two stories, the first floor had art in permanent
rotation; the second floor housed a special exhibit.
Leilani locked herself into the
bathroom. It was minimalist but elegant, a complete contrast to Mel's house,
done in white and modern fixtures. A vase of fresh flowers softened the
austerity.
She blinked at herself in the
mirror. Her cheeks were pink and there was a bright light in her eyes, like she
had a fever. All because of Colin.
Wetting a thick paper hand towel,
she pressed it to her flushed cheeks. She hadn't felt like this—well,
ever. Part of her wanted to revel in it, to draw it out, to luxuriate in this
state of anticipation for as long as she could.
Part of her wanted Colin to come
take her in that bathroom.
She and Aaron had never had sex
outside a bed, even when they were teenagers. It had always been his bed,
because Aaron thought it was more comfortable. It had been—she couldn't
deny that—and sex was never lacking. But she'd never felt this edge she
felt now with Colin.
She was just desperate. She
hadn't had sex in over a year, closer to a year and a half—of course she
was super-charged and ready to go. She reapplied her lipstick, smoothed her
hair back, tugged her dress straight, and went back out.
As she walked into the main
gallery, Colin walked through the front door.
They both stopped abruptly,
staring at each other. His hair was wind blown, messy on top in the most
adorable way. His coat flapped open and his shirt was loosened at the top, as
though he'd taken a tie off.
She didn't know what he saw, but
based on the smile that curved his lips it pleased him. He walked straight to
her and,
the way she shivered. "I can tell you I'm going to take you on your
balcony."
He heard her intake of breath.
She said nothing for a long moment, simply watching him. Then she said,
"Why didn't you tonight?"
"Tonight I'm getting to know
you." He traced a finger down her neck. "Tomorrow I'll get to know
you better."
She stared at him, and then nodded.
"Tomorrow then."
"I'll pick you up at
three."
She frowned. "You aren't
working?"
"Some things are more
important than work."
"This?"
He kissed her softly.
"Definitely this."
Chapter Nine
Leilani held a copy of the
gallery layout in her hand, but instead of picturing art on the walls she saw
Colin pressing her against the whiteness, taking her the way he'd promised he
would—thoroughly and in every way possible.
"Leilani."
Mel's sharp voice broke into her
daydream. "Sorry. What were you saying?" Leilani asked, trying to
focus.
"Just go primp for him. If I
know Colin, he'll be here early, and you aren't any good to me in the state
you're in. Honestly, Leilani. What has he done to you?"
Nothing yet, but she really hoped that was going to change in
an hour.
Mel rolled her eyes. "If I
am ever so pathetic about a man, push me off the Tower."
"I heard something about a
Latin polo player..."
Her new friend's face flushed
with color. "He was Argentinean, and I was young. But I'll rephrase my
statement. If I'm ever so pathetic about a man again , push me off the Tower." Turning, she answered her
ringing phone.
Mel was right—she was pathetic. But once she got this out
of her system she'd be able to concrete again. Hopefully.
She went to the bathroom in the
back of the gallery.
It was almost time. Would he take
her home? Would he come in here and take her? Mel was around, but just from the
couple days she'd been here she knew Mel would be on the phone. The gallery had
all sorts of nooks and crannies where one could hide away.
It was familiar yet so different,
from the layout to the light. She wondered if it had to do with the sun, that
the light in her gallery was warm and laid back. Here, the light was somehow
stark and intense—bright white instead of a sunny yellow.
Still, even though King's Gallery
had more of a busy city feel, it wasn't off-putting. Mel's Gallery invited you
in and took you on a journey. Two stories, the first floor had art in permanent
rotation; the second floor housed a special exhibit.
Leilani locked herself into the
bathroom. It was minimalist but elegant, a complete contrast to Mel's house,
done in white and modern fixtures. A vase of fresh flowers softened the
austerity.
She blinked at herself in the
mirror. Her cheeks were pink and there was a bright light in her eyes, like she
had a fever. All because of Colin.
Wetting a thick paper hand towel,
she pressed it to her flushed cheeks. She hadn't felt like this—well,
ever. Part of her wanted to revel in it, to draw it out, to luxuriate in this
state of anticipation for as long as she could.
Part of her wanted Colin to come
take her in that bathroom.
She and Aaron had never had sex
outside a bed, even when they were teenagers. It had always been his bed,
because Aaron thought it was more comfortable. It had been—she couldn't
deny that—and sex was never lacking. But she'd never felt this edge she
felt now with Colin.
She was just desperate. She
hadn't had sex in over a year, closer to a year and a half—of course she
was super-charged and ready to go. She reapplied her lipstick, smoothed her
hair back, tugged her dress straight, and went back out.
As she walked into the main
gallery, Colin walked through the front door.
They both stopped abruptly,
staring at each other. His hair was wind blown, messy on top in the most
adorable way. His coat flapped open and his shirt was loosened at the top, as
though he'd taken a tie off.
She didn't know what he saw, but
based on the smile that curved his lips it pleased him. He walked straight to
her and,
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