by Soraya Lane
But Nate was a model of self-control today, no doubt having everything planned, including how to make her beg for more from him.
“What gallery?” she murmured, touching her fingers to her lips as she stepped back.
“Midtown Ink,” he replied, a smug smile on his face. “And we have it all to ourselves.
Faith’s hand dropped. If she’d let it, her jaw would have, too. “They’ve closed the gallery for us?”
“Yes. For a high-level investor who wants time to get acquainted with his purchases, and his bright young star of a consultant.”
“You,” she said, shaking her head, then leaning over to punch him on the arm. “Are something else.” She grimaced. “And you also work out way too much. That hurt.”
He laughed. “Hey, while I was with you I got all fappy. It’s a good thing that I’m working out again. Gives me something to do instead of roll around in a cold bed. Alone.”
“Fappy?’ she asked, ignoring his reference to bed. No wonder he’d been confident that this stunt would work in convincing her how fabulous he was. Only he was kind of missing the point. She already knew that he was incredible; she just didn’t believe for a second that he’d want her long-term, and she had zero intention of putting her life and career, let alone her heart, on the line for a man who was ultimately going to lose interest in her.
“Fat and happy,” he joked.
“Oh yeah, because you got so fat.” Faith laughed. Why did he have to be so damn charming all the time?
The pilot announced they were able to depart and Nate collected her case and an overnight bag he had and nodded for her to walk ahead of him. She did, smiling at the flight attendant who only had eyes for Nate before descending the stairs. The weather was pleasant, not as warm as Texas but nice, with a slight breeze blowing. She was pleased she was wearing a jacket and that she’d dressed businesslike now that she knew where they were going.
“I have a car waiting,” Nate said, wheeling her case behind them now they were on the ground. “Let’s go get it and head straight to the gallery.”
She followed, amused by the smug look on his face. She was dying to see the gallery, truth be told, and being flown in by private jet and arriving as his consultant was incredible. Faith had to hand it to him; he sure as hell had been listening when she’d told him her bucket list career-wise.
“What would you do if I told you I wanted to move here?” she asked. “If I love the gallery so much that I want to try to get a job in New York?”
Nate frowned, slowing down from the fast-paced walk he’d adopted. “I’d say the jet is going to need some extra maintenance and an additional crew for all the flying she’d be doing.”
Faith bit down on her bottom lip to stop from smiling. He really was pulling out all the stops today.
The ride from the airport was relatively quick, given the amount of traffic they had to negotiate, and she was wide-eyed the entire way. She’d never been to New York, and it was everything she’d imagined. Busy, incredible, vibrant . . . and that was just the vibe she got from inside the car.
“We’re here,” Nate said.
“Have you been here before?” she asked, waiting for the driver to stop before pushing her door open, not intending waiting for Nate to do it for her. She wanted to get out and discover the city she’d dreamed about so often and never thought she’d see in real life before she was thirty.
“Once,” Nate replied as he stepped out behind her, passing the driver some bills when he took their cases from the trunk. “I had a meeting canceled nearby a while back and I took a look around. Granddad always liked his art, so I was just seeing what they had.”
Faith walked alongside him and into the building. She’d seen pictures on various Web sites, had always followed their exhibitions and reviews, so she knew exactly where she was and what she was about to walk into.
“Thank you, Nate,” she said, reaching for his hand as they walked in.
He took the opportunity to stop her, keeping hold of her hand, his palm locked against hers.
“You don’t even know what I have planned yet.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m here, at the gallery of my dreams, and you’ve made it happen. So no matter what else goes down between us, thank you.”
Nate had never done anything wrong, which was exactly why she found it so hard to be angry with him or pull away. It was merely her resolve to be stronger than her mother had been, to prioritize herself and follow her own dreams, and not get her heart broken into a million pieces along the way.
When they entered, the gallery was quiet. So quiet she could have dropped a hairpin and it would have sounded like a rock crashing down onto the tiled floor.
“Welcome. You must be Nathaniel King.” An immaculately groomed woman on superhigh heels stepped forward, holding out her hand to Nate. “We’re so pleased to have you here today.”
Nate nodded and clasped the woman’s hand. “This is Faith Mendes, the art consultant I told you about. Faith is also a personal friend of mine, and she’s helping me to develop my personal collection.”
Faith stepped closer and shook the woman’s hand, smiling as they exchanged pleasantries.
“You’ll find that the only staff on are here for security reasons,” the woman continued. “I’ll be in my office should you need me, and you have the gallery for the next few hours. Your table is waiting where we discussed.”
Once she’d left them, Faith turned, studying Nate’s handsome face. “Table?” she asked.
“I know how hungry that little stomach of yours gets,” he joked. “I couldn’t have us here until midafternoon without something to eat now, could I?”
“Trust you,” she muttered.
“Trust me to what?”
“Manage to give me the one thing in the world you knew I wanted, and turn it into something romantic at the same time.”
He laughed. “Hey, I’m not all that interested in art unless it serves as an investment purpose, so there had to be something in it for me.”
Faith walked on ahead, leaving Nate to find somewhere to place their cases and then catch up to her. She could hardly believe some of the works she was looking at, all by amazing established artists, the most stunning blend of contemporary pieces she’d ever seen in the flesh.
“Anything you like?” he asked, his voice lazy like he didn’t really give a damn.
“I love everything,” she said, sounding all breathless and unlike her usual self. “But you want my professional opinion, right?”
“Yes,” he answered, touching her back as he passed, moving to the next painting. His lingering hand, palm flat to her back, only made her more aware of him. “I doubt the owner will be happy with me if I don’t buy anything after insisting that I would.”
Faith nodded. “Well, let’s look through the entire gallery first; then I’ll consider my answer.”
They walked slowly side by side, Faith pausing to make notes in her phone every so often. She might not have even finished her post-grad degree yet, but this was the experience of a lifetime, and more important than any final paper. She’d dreamed of being an art consultant to the rich, and this was her first taste of it. Just because it was Nate didn’t meant she wasn’t going to take it seriously, especially when there was so much money at stake. She wanted him to genuinely appreciate her skill when it came to art—see her as more than a pretty face and fun bedmate.
“Please tell me you’re ready to stop walking now?” Nate loved spending time with Faith, but after close to two hours of her walking painstakingly slowly through the gallery back and forth and hardly saying a word to him except for the odd comment about different brushstrokes and styles, and anecdotes about various artists, he was well and truly over art.
“I just want to--”
“I’m not buying if you don’t agree to break for lunch,” he insisted, knowing he sounded like a spoiled brat and not giving a damn.
She glanced at him, her face
different than he’d seen it before. She’d barely noticed him since they’d arrived, her entire focus the artwork on display and taking notes.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Nate smiled, relieved. “This way.”
He took her hand and led her across the room and to an alcove. There was a table set up in the window, looking out to the city, and a painting that was apparently a big deal hung nearby, carefully positioned to shield it from the sun.
“Oh my god,” Faith gasped, letting go of his hand.
Nate turned. “You like?”
“This is an original Erwin Olaf,” she said, gesturing to the painting, “Are you kidding me? This is just . . .” She kept looking from the art to the table to him. “Nate, this is too much.”
“It’s for you,” he said gruffly. “I did this for you, because I wanted you to know that everything you told me, everything you shared with me, wasn’t just idle chat. I care about you, Faith, and it was never my intention to hurt you.”
She walked closer to him, reached for him, and placed her hands over his forearms. “But that’s the thing, Nate. You didn’t hurt me.”
“So tell me the truth,” he demanded, voice strong yet kind. “You need to tell me what I’m up against.”
Faith sat down, looking out the window, his gaze fixed on something he couldn’t see, or maybe she was just staring.
“When I told you about my mom, I didn’t tell you the whole story.”
Nate sat down across from her, taking the wine from the ice bucket and pouring sauvignon blanc into their glasses. He nudged one closer to her, then sat back, wanting to give her space.
“So tell me,” he said. “After everything we’ve been through, you need to tell me.”
“The man she was in love with, he was from money,” she said, turning back around so she was facing him. “That’s why I don’t want to be impressed by your material things, Nate, even though I’d love to be surrounded by nice things all the time.”
He frowned. “I never tried to buy your affection, Faith. Not once. Hell, I wasn’t even certain you’d want to come on the plane with me because I know how you feel.”
“Some women, they chase rich men as if it’s a career. My mom wasn’t like that, but she did fall for the wrong man. He told her he loved her, and maybe he did, but in the end she was from one world and he was from another.”
“This guy, he told her that?” Sounded like an asshole to Nate. “I don’t mean to be rude, Faith, but I’ve been friends with Sam for years. I don’t give a damn where anyone lives or how much money they have, so long as they can look me in the eye and prove the kind of person they are to me.”
She took a sip of wine, the glass resting against her palm as she cradled it. “He promised to marry her; she was dreaming of a life with him and put all of her own aspirations on hold. Never went to college, lived in his home with him for years. And then his parents pushed him to marry someone from their own circle, didn’t want him marrying a pretty little Hispanic girl with no money, and two months after he finished with her he was married to another woman with a baby on the way.”
Nate gritted his teeth, hating what she was telling him. “For starters, I’m not that kind of man. I make my own decisions about my life, and my family have a different set of morals.”
She smiled up at him, but he could see it was filled with sadness. “You might say that now, Nate, but things change; I know they do. You might find me fun and attractive now, but one day dating your friend’s little sister won’t be novelty enough.”
Nate took a slow sip of wine, deciding he was better off drinking than losing the plot and yelling at her or shaking her to try to get some sense into her head. He leaned forward, discarding his glass and staring into her eyes, hoping she could see how damn frustrated he was.
“You honestly think that I think of you as some sort of novelty? That I just got off on sleeping with you because you were forbidden?”
She shrugged. “Isn’t that what made it all so fun?”
He un-fisted his hand and reached for her, forcing himself to be gentle instead of giving in to his frustration and punching the table. “Yes, the fact that you were forbidden added an element on fun to what we were doing, but it wasn’t why I fell in love with you.”
“You’re not in love with me, Nate. It’s just lust. I’m sure of it.”
He fought not to laugh at the serious look on her face. “Lust? Are you kidding me?” This time he couldn’t help but chuckle at her, holding on tight to both her hands now. “Lust was me screwing my way through too many women all my life. Love?” He blew out a breath. “I’ve never been in love before, Faith, but believe me when I say I sure as hell know what it is. For the first time in my life there is only one woman I want in my bed, and I also want her in my life, by my side. I want to wake up and know that the one woman I give a damn about is tucked up beside me away from all the evil in the world.”
“Nate . . .”
He shook his head. “No, Faith. You don’t get to tell me how I feel. You can tell me to leave you the hell alone, and I’ll back away if that’s truly what you want, but right here, right now, is a man telling a woman that he loves her. No strings attached, as simple as that.”
He could see her breathing. Her mouth was slightly parted, her chest rising just visibly as they sat in silence.
“I can’t be hurt like she was, Nate. I can’t give you my heart and worry that one day you’ll wake up and realize you don’t want to be with the hired help.”
“Hired help?” He laughed, holding up one of her hands and leaning in closer to drop a kiss to her skin. “Are you kidding me?”
The look on her face told him she wasn’t.
“Darlin’, you were my pretend housekeeper for a few weeks. That doesn’t make you the help, and even if it did, I don’t give a fuck, to be perfectly honest.” He sighed, wondering how he was ever going to convince her that his feelings were genuine. Hell, he’d had women begging for a commitment from him in the past, yet he couldn’t make Faith believe that he wanted to be with her exclusively no matter what he said.
“Faith, you’re going to make an amazing art consultant. You’re a strong, capable, beautiful woman, and the last thing I’d ever want is to be responsible for crushing your dreams or your career aspirations. That’s why I love you so much. You came to me for protection when you were vulnerable, but at the same time you’re so damn strong and determined.”
She smiled, just a hint of a smile, but an upturn of her lips nonetheless.
“Your brother is one of the state’s best horse trainers in my opinion, so whatever you think about your background or your family not being good enough for me? That’s just crazy talk.”
“So what are you proposing?” she said in a low voice.
Nate had planned on having lunch first, but to hell with it.
“Funny that you ask . . . ,” he murmured, letting go of her hand and standing. He’d discarded his jacket and put it over the back of his chair, but he reached into it now for the small box he’d tucked safely into his breast pocket.
Nate cleared his throat, suddenly not quite as confident as he’d been the day he went in to choose it.
“Faith Mary Mendes,” he said, dropping to one knee beside her.
Her hand shot up to her mouth as she looked down at him, eyes wide.
“If this isn’t proof enough that I love you and intend honoring my word, then I don’t know what is,” he said. “Marry me. Put me out of my misery and tell me that you love me, too.”
She sobbed, a quiet, barely audible sob, hand still pressed to her mouth. “I do love you,” she whispered.
“Good,” he said with a laugh. “And will you marry me?” He opened the box, annoyed with himself that he hadn’t shown her the ring straightaway. “I wanted to get you something spectacular, but I didn’t think you’d want something new. So I found an antique jeweler to work with and we finally found this.”
The diamo
nd was substantial, five carats, and it was set on a platinum band with pretty baguette diamonds to each side. The style was perfect for her slender finger, and when she lowered her hand from her mouth, shaking, and extended it toward him, he carefully slid the ring on.
“Yes,” she whispered. “It’s beautiful.”
He stood and pulled her up with him, wrapping his arms around her. “Almost as beautiful as you,” he murmured against her cheek, holding her tight.
“Are you sure you want this? That you--”
“Hush,” he said, kissing her to stop her from talking. “I have never wanted anything more in my life.”
They kissed, a slow, lazy kiss that could have gone on for hours if they hadn’t been in the middle of a gallery with only an hour to spare before they could potentially be surrounded by other visitors.
“I will never ask you to forfeit your career for me, even it means being apart,” he told her, holding her body against his, her cheek to his chest as he rested his chin on the top of her head, in her silky hair. “Everything that is mine is yours.”
“Really?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
Nate stroked her back. “Really.”
“I’m sorry for being so stubborn,” she confessed, leaning back in his arms and gazing up at him. “I just . . .” She didn’t even know what to say, so overwhelmed by what was happening, by what he’d just asked her.
“Hey, your stubbornness is one of the things I love about you.”
Nate kissed her again, before laughing at the rumble that came from her belly.
“I think we should actually eat this amazing lunch before we leave. I don’t want you being undernourished.”
“I’m not pregnant yet, Nate. You don’t have to worry about my eating habits.”
They both laughed.
“Is it so wrong to want you barefoot, pregnant, and under house arrest?” he joked.
“What happened to wanting me to pursue my career?” She pushed him back, but he didn’t let her escape his arms.
“I want you any which way I can have you, Faith. So long as you’re mine.” He pulled her close.