“I guess that enjoying boating makes sense for a man whose family runs an international shipping company,” she said, determined to keep her attention focused on Ethan.
“I got my love of the water from Grady. He keeps a cruiser at the yacht club. Anyone in the family can use it, but I’m the only one who does.”
When her phone sounded again, Sienna ground her teeth and wished she’d turned the damned thing off before leaving for the restaurant.
“Do you need to get that?” Ethan asked, showing no annoyance at the interruption.
“I really don’t.”
“But you want to?”
Sienna shook her head. “It’s more that I suffer from a Pavlovian reaction to any noise my phone makes. Since I deal with clients and art dealers both here and abroad, it isn’t unusual for them to reach out to me at all times of the day and night. Usually, I jump on every communication. But tonight, I’m totally focused on you.”
His delighted grin let her know she’d said the perfect thing. Sienna found herself wishing she was seated on his lap, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair.
“You are really dedicated to what you do.” He cocked his head. “Do you love it that much?”
“I love the treasure-hunting aspect of it. Seeing the thrill on my client’s face when I secure something beautiful for them makes the long hours worthwhile.”
“You’re lucky to do something that makes you happy.”
“I am, although sometimes I dread the idea of getting on another airplane.”
“Have you considered staying in one place and curating for a museum?”
“Sometimes. Or I think about finishing my art history PhD and teaching somewhere.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Sienna grimaced. “The idea of standing up in front of a room full of college students and watching their eyes glaze over as I lecture.”
“I can see where that might not be ideal, but surely you could use your credentials in some other fashion.”
“I could,” she hedged, uncomfortable with the idea of change, “but the fact is I haven’t yet found a reason to slow down.”
Ethan’s curiosity sharpened. “What would it take?”
“I don’t know.” But that wasn’t completely true. Since meeting Ethan she’d started imagining lazy Sunday mornings in bed and endless hours of conversation and great sex. “Maybe the right guy to come along?”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Sienna regretted her impulsive answer. “Obviously, it’s all just speculation and I won’t know how I feel until I find him.” For some reason, talking with Ethan about a potential relationship with a nonexistent man was making her anxious. “And that’s not likely to happen anytime soon.”
“You never know. He might be closer than you think.”
Sienna shook her head. “It’s a chicken-and-egg thing. I don’t have a man in my life encouraging me to slow down and I can’t invest time in a relationship unless I slow down.”
“Sounds like there are a lot of unhappy men in Manhattan who haven’t had the pleasure of your company,” he stated, brown eyes dancing with sensual intent. “So if you’re not dating, how do you spend your downtime?”
“In bed.” When he raised his eyebrows, she clarified. “Sleeping.” His disappointment made her insides do funny things. “Or hanging out with my friends.”
“What about your family? Do you see much of them?”
“Tegan and I text a lot, but she’s busy and my parents...” The way she trailed off was telling and from Ethan’s expression, he wanted to ask her more about it. “Let’s just say I’m a middle child and that my parents are both more preoccupied with my siblings.”
“You make it sound like you feel left out.”
Was she imagining things or had he leaned forward as if her answer bore some significance for him? She pondered the family photos on his cousin’s Instagram feed. How his dark hair and brown eyes made him stand out among his blond relatives. Did he also feel like an outsider? Yet were their situations at all the same? His family so obviously adored him.
“It’s more like I’m different than either of my siblings,” Sienna explained. “Aiden is just like my dad. He’s super outgoing and knows everybody in town. He’s also a bit lazy and can be frustratingly scatterbrained at times. But he’s the only boy and firstborn. As far as my parents are concerned, he is the golden one.”
“And Teagan?”
“My mother’s pride and joy. Beautiful, blonde and built like a model with impeccable fashion sense.” Everything I’m not. “Around the time Teagan turned thirteen, my mother got the idea to start her own fashion line. Since I love to draw, I contributed some sketches and a couple of them were developed for the first collection. But somehow my mother forgot to give me any credit and when it came time to choose the face of the company, my mother picked Teagan. They’ve been a wildly successful fashion team ever since and nobody has any idea that I was once involved.”
“So you draw?”
“I do.” She paused to adjust to the change of topic, relieved to move on from her difficult childhood. With an impish grin, she added, “When I’m inspired.”
“What inspires you?”
You do. “Mostly the human form.” She’d already mentally undressed him earlier. It couldn’t be much naughtier to imagine sketching him in all his naked glory. “My senior thesis was devoted to the human body in all its forms.”
“I’d be happy to pose for you.” His eyes danced with wicked allure. Could he read her mind? If so, sex with him would be beyond amazing. “If you’re feeling inspired, that is.”
“Well.” She took a sip of wine to ease her suddenly dry mouth. “Point me to the nearest art supply store.”
* * *
After dinner, Ethan and Sienna strolled historic streets south of Broad through the shadows created by streetlamps and lush landscaping. A light breeze, perfumed by jasmine and roses, offered intermittent relief from the weight of the humid air. Beyond the iron fences and tall brick walls, light spilled through the windows of hundred-year-old mansions, the warm glow guiding their path.
Ethan savored watching Sienna absorb the beauty of the historic district the same way he’d relished each bite of his dinner. He enjoyed the sensual pleasure of hearing her inarticulate delight as some sculpture or architectural feature caught her eye. The brush of her arm against his as her balance shifted while she negotiated a transition in the pavement from concrete to brick.
“You’re probably bored to tears,” she said as they reached a corner and had to decide whether to keep going straight or turn. “I’m used to the noise and bustle of New York. It’s so peaceful here.”
“I’m fine to keep going if you are,” he answered. “White Point Garden and the Battery are a few more blocks down. The sun has already set so you won’t be able to see much, but at least you’ll know where it is in case you want to come back during the day.”
“I think to save my feet for all the sightseeing to come we should head back.” But what she did next surprised him.
A formidable brick wall bordered the sidewalk where they stood. Sienna took a backward step toward it, gliding into the shadows cast by a nearby crepe myrtle. Her fingers caught the sleeve of his linen jacket, the tug so delicate he might have missed it if not for the way her invitation lit up his body. Did she hope he’d press her against the wall, slide his lips over hers and make her moan? Because that’s what he wanted to do. Yet, instead of following through on his impulses, he stared at the pattern of her bright dress against the dull red-gray bricks, all the while wondering what the hell was stopping him.
“I wouldn’t want you to end up with blisters from too much walking,” he said, trying to sort out if she needed a moment to rest or if her mind had swerved down the path his had gone.
If h
e closed the gap between them, would she wrap her arms around his neck and draw him into her space?
“Oh,” she breathed, with just the right amount of self-deprecating amusement in her voice to make him smile. “I’m sure you can tell by looking at me that I’m not that fragile.”
Ethan moved forward while she was lifting the heavy curtain of hair off her shoulders and neck. Her exposed skin glowed in the contrasting shadows and his mouth went dry.
“I will say, though,” she continued as he took another step toward her and placed his palm on the bricks beside her head. “Next to you I feel positively delicate.”
“You are. You have a delicate nose and chin.” He traced each with the tip of his finger. “Delicate bone structure. Delicate hands and delicate feet.” He lifted his free hand and placed his palm against hers, demonstrating their different sizes.
She rasped her nails along the light stubble just below his jawline and his breath hitched. A lightning bolt of hunger shot through him. Dismay followed. This was supposed to be his game. His pursuit. She wasn’t supposed to arouse him with a single touch. He was in charge of the seduction, of enticing her into surrendering her secrets and her gorgeous body.
Yet Ethan found himself threading his finger into her luxuriant waves and savoring the silky slide of the soft strands against his skin. He half closed his eyes and watched her expression transform from bold curiosity to wary anticipation. The war between her uncertainty and longing confused him. What could make her afraid to want him? And which emotion would rule the day?
He had a solid plan to find out.
Or he did until she ran playful fingers through his hair.
“Thanks for the fun night.” Her soft breath puffed against his cheek before she kissed him there, a warm peck that gave him a quick sample of her soft, full breasts pressed against his chest and left him aching for more.
It was a friendship buss, he realized, barely holding back a tormented groan. Worse, he no longer knew if she was playing him or if her sweetness was honest and legitimate. He searched her eyes for the flicker he’d seen over dinner, the one that matched the fire building beneath his skin. For one breathtaking second he saw what he’d been looking for. That moment was all he needed to take her hand in his and lift the inside of her wrist to his lips.
“It was my pleasure,” he responded, thrilling to the gasp that escaped her.
The irregular rise and fall of her chest was creating chaos inside him. He was dying to have those soft breasts squashed against him. To peel off her clothes and expose their perfect contours to his eyes, hands and mouth.
“No, really,” she murmured, “the pleasure was all mine.”
He dove into her gaze, saw her eagerness and her vulnerability. She wanted him. The discovery didn’t fill him with triumph so much as wonder. All his suspicions and scheming fell away. When it came to this woman, this moment, he wanted nothing to get between them.
“There’s more than enough pleasure for us both.”
Taking her chin, he tipped her face to the perfect angle. Anticipation was eating him alive, but he would only get one shot at a first kiss with her. He intended to make it memorable.
Her startled eyes slid shut as he grazed his lips over hers. The kiss reminded him of jazz. A call and response exchange with bright notes of trumpet, intricate piano improvisation and beneath it all a heartbeat thrum of bass.
Ethan wrapped his arm around her waist and slowly brought her snug against him. This was everything he’d craved, but so much more. The world slowed, compressed, faded. Images of the future flashed in his mind. Bare skin. Soft moans. Greedy hands. Feverish lips. The sharp nip of her teeth. The hot, snug grip of her around his erection.
Sienna melted in his arms, her lush curves pliant against him. Releasing her chin, he feathered the tips of his fingers down her neck and over her collarbone. His mind fogged as she shivered. In that moment, he knew there was nowhere else he wanted to be. They fit together. Belonged together. It was as if his entire life he’d been moving toward this exact instant. A perfect first kiss with a woman who brought every cell in his body to full awareness.
His skin tingled where her fingertips explored. Along his cheekbone, around the rim of his ear, down his neck and around to his nape. Letting the embrace slowly build was both torment and pleasure. He trailed his tongue along the seam of her lips, knowing she’d open for him. Satisfaction exploded when she did. Their breath mingled. She tasted of the raspberry-and-dark-chocolate dessert they’d shared.
The blare of a car alarm hit them both like an ice bath after a muscle-loosening sensual massage. Sienna responded by jerking free of the kiss. Silently cursing the untimely interruption, Ethan tightened his fingers for the briefest of seconds until he registered the tensing of her muscles and let go.
Her gaze darted about as if searching their surroundings for a place to hide. When the empty street offered no protection, she fluffed her hair, gave a nervous laugh and retreated a step. Ethan ground his teeth and acknowledged that the sexy mood was shattered.
“I guess I should take you back to my grandfather’s house.” While it was the courteous offer to make, he was counting on her to suggest a different destination entirely. In fact, he was on the verge of inviting her back to his place when she nodded.
“It’s getting late,” she agreed, “and I have a 6:00 a.m. call with an art dealer in Paris.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?” He offered his arm to her before turning back the way they’d come.”
Sienna’s fingers closed around his biceps. “I have a hard time doing nothing.”
He felt a wolfish smile form, thinking of all the ways he could keep her entertained. “If you like to keep busy then I’m the guy for you.”
“You don’t say.” She sounded slightly breathless. “What did you have in mind?”
“Have dinner with me again tomorrow,” he suggested, shooting a friendly leer her way. “And I’ll show you.”
FIVE
The morning after her dinner with Ethan, Sienna headed to the Gibbes Museum of Art on Meeting Street in Charleston’s historic district. Housed in a beaux arts building since 1905, the museum had a collection of ten thousand works of fine art with many connected to Charleston or the South. She’d been particularly eager to study the depiction of the city’s complicated past, from the highs of wealth and culture to the lows of slavery and war.
When she’d announced her plans the day before, several of Teagan’s family members had offered to accompany her to the museum. Knowing that her measured pace viewing the exhibits would frustrate any companion, she’d turned them all down. For Sienna, art wasn’t just a commodity that her clients invested in, but an opportunity to see inside someone’s heart, mind and soul and experience what they were feeling. She loved that moment when she gazed at a painting and found her mind opening to another’s point of view.
With so much to absorb, Sienna planned to spend the entire day at the museum. Her last stop before breaking for lunch was the observation windows that allowed visitors a behind-the-scenes look of the work of curators and conservators. Her best friend, Gia, was a conservator for the Guggenheim back in New York and Sienna found the work fascinating.
After picking up a salad at the museum’s coffee shop, Sienna wandered through the classically landscaped Lenhardt Garden. Then it was back inside to view the exhibition of twentieth-century American regionalism and the Charleston Renaissance that spanned thirty years beginning in 1915.
She was admiring the innovative display of three hundred miniature portraits when her senses were assailed by a familiar masculine scent. Glancing to the side, she spied Ethan an instant before he wrapped a strong arm around her waist and brushed his firm lips over her temple. Although the casual display of affection jangled her nerves, she relaxed against his side and savored the latent power of his hard body. In her world peopl
e greeted each other with fake smiles and air kisses. The demonstrative familiarity from Ethan and his cousins was slowly dissolving her usual reserve.
“You look fantastic,” he said, the compliment slipping easily from his lips.
Today, she was wearing another outfit purchased during her shopping expedition with Teagan and her cousins. Sienna felt feminine and comfortable in the loose-fitting maxi dress, though with a print of pink watercolor poppies on a black background, it was a bold choice for her.
“Thanks.” She found herself blushing for no good reason except that his hungry gaze hit the accelerator on her sexual drive. “You do, too.”
He was casually dressed in khakis and a blue-and-white-striped button-down open at the neck and with the sleeves rolled up to expose his muscular forearms. Honestly, the man could wear a parka and a ski mask and his massive amounts of sex appeal would still be overwhelming.
“Have you enjoyed the museum?” Ethan asked.
“Yes,” Sienna replied in a breathless rush, delighted by his unscheduled appearance. “It’s quite wonderful.” She glanced at her watch and saw that it was nearly three o’clock. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought it might be fun to see the museum through your eyes so I canceled my afternoon meetings and skipped out early.”
“I’m so glad you did, but are you sure it’s okay to do that?” She imagined Teagan’s glee at finding out that Ethan was shirking his duties.
“If you don’t want me here...” Disappointment shadowed his eyes as he trailed off, misinterpreting her question.
“Oh, no!” she exclaimed, reaching for his arm, eager to reassure him that his company was welcome. “It’s not that. I was thinking this might not be the most exciting afternoon for you. I’ve been known to lose track of time while staring at a painting.”
“If I get bored, I’ll just stare at you.” He took her hand and brushed a kiss over her knuckles.
At the touch of his lips, she let loose a disconcerted chuckle. She scanned his expression, searching for mockery. “I definitely won’t be able to concentrate if you do that.”
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