The Painter's Passion

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  “No,” he said flatly, trying not to be bothered by the look of hurt that flashed in her eyes. “I trust no one to do what is best for me except myself. But, I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that, Princess, with your loving brother, loving parents, and perfect life.” He hated the vehemence in his tone, but he couldn’t stop it even if he tried.

  No one knew what he’d been through – what he’d suffered. And no one ever would. It was why he had no feelings. Experiencing emotion meant opening a door to all the emotions he’d had to lock away for his own sanity and for his own success. And the few times he’d opened that door – to Ellie, to Pierce, to Sloane – it had cost him.

  Hurt turned to anger. “You know nothing about me, Mr. Lane.”

  He raised an eyebrow at the unexpected edge in her voice.

  The lady had secrets. Interesting.

  Part of him wanted to know – wanted to pry. Morgan’s words came back to him – ‘she’s been through a lot.’ His chest burned and for a split second the intense rage to kill anyone who had hurt her seared through him. And then he doused it with a practiced ease. Wanting to know implied that he cared – and he couldn’t afford that.

  He trained his dark, inquisitive glare on her and then quickly wiped all serious emotion from him; the current course of the conversation could only lead into a dangerous zone. His face changed like the Greek masks from tragic to comedic in the blink of an eye, a forced smile spreading onto his face. “Of course. You do what you want, Your Highness.”

  “You need to stop calling me that.”

  “And why is that?” He smirked.

  “Because it makes me think that you are about to do something that I won’t approve of.”

  If she only knew…

  “I can think of many things that I could do right now that you wouldn’t approve of.” The dark embers in his eyes flared suggestively. “Luckily for you, I’m trying to be on my best behavior.”

  “I don’t think I believe that for one second.”

  “How very prudent of you. But in any case, I have to get going.” He wrapped his bagel in a napkin. “If you change your mind about wanting my help, you know where to find me. Although, I wouldn’t suggest coming to my room at midnight again.” He bent his head closer to hers and whispered, “That is unless you plan on staying the night.”

  A slight blush stole over her cheeks. Finally – a reaction. He grinned devilishly at her, watching her eyes deepen to a golden brown as her body responded to his promise.

  He chuckled and began to walk past her when her voice stopped him one more time.

  “Where are you going?”

  Shit.

  “To see an old friend,” he replied without turning to face her.

  “Barely up this morning and already going in search of another willing woman?” Her disapproval brought a smile to his face. She was jealous.

  This afternoon was getting better and better.

  “Don’t worry, darling. Loury is neither willing nor a woman and Seven Dials is not my first choice on finding evening entertainment.” He chuckled again and made his way to the front door, his dress shoes clicking softly on the marbled floor.

  He didn’t worry about giving her Loury’s name because if she knew of him, it was for his legitimate businesses and if she didn’t know of him, it was because he was far too seedy to have crossed her path. Loury didn’t directly deal in art, which meant that it was unlikely Ana or her team had come across him in previous cases. However, the man knew many, many people; he would know who Pierce needed to find.

  Chapter 7

  Ana planted her hands on the counter as soon as Pierce left the room. Her whole body was tingling, but that was nothing new; his presence always put her on edge. It was just worse now that he’d actually touched her… held her… now that she’d had a taste of the possibility of Pierce.

  At least she’d managed to handle the topic of last night with an ease that had surprised even her. She’d been so completely exhausted from the myriad of emotions that she’d experienced all within a half an hour or so that she’d slept restlessly the whole night. Finally, she’d woken up at seven this morning and gone for a long walk to clear her head, the fresh air doing much for her sleep-worn appearance.

  Well, the fresh air and the make-up.

  And the coffee.

  She’d met Tony for breakfast at nine-thirty this morning. He’d said it was about the case, but they both knew it was the only reason she would accept to go on what most would consider a date; he was trying to take it slowly.

  He’d even made sure to start the conversation off withsome questions and suggestions for where to go from here with finding and luring out the thief to make the attempt more legitimate, but it quickly dissolved into casual conversation. And at that point, Ana decided that she needed to go. She felt guilty about the look of disappointment that passed over his face, but her emotions were already overwhelming her and unfortunately, they were all for a much darker and more devilish man.

  She’d walked in the door and heard someone in the kitchen. Assuming it was Morgan, she chose to walk down the hall instead of up to her room. Instead, she happened upon Pierce.

  His attire had been the first thing that she noticed – black dress pants, black shirt. He was completely put together as though nothing from last night was out of the ordinary.

  Which for him it probably wasn’t.

  With that stinging thought, she’d immediately blurted out about his taking the bagels. For some reason, her mind found comfort in scolding him and ordering him around.

  Maybe it was because she knew just how much power he could hold over her if she let him.

  The conversation quickly distracted her from her first observation.

  The inquisitive side of her ached to know why he continued to push back against her wishes. And now that he’d answered that question – albeit cryptically – she craved more.

  That was the problem; Pierce was the problem.

  She craved more of everything about him.

  But right now, her focus was on their parting words. She knew he was up to something and it wasn’t good.

  “Ana, you ok?” Tash’s husky voice broke her trance. The petite, buxom blonde walked cautiously into the kitchen, clearly hesitant to interrupt her thoughts.

  “Yeah, sorry.” She smiled sheepishly. “Just lost in thought.”

  “Long night last night?” Tash asked.

  Ana’s eyes widened at the question, her mind instantly wondering if Pierce had said anything to her.

  No, he couldn’t have… wouldn’t have… would he?

  They did seem to be pretty close, but as much as Pierce tried to make it seem like there was something going on between them, she could never quite bring herself to believe it.

  “I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I heard your door closing around midnight or so…”

  Ana let out the breath – and the concerns – that she’d been holding; a blush rose to her cheeks.

  “Ahh… yeah.” She bit her lip, thinking quickly to change the topic. “How are you feeling? Is there anything that I can do?”

  Tash hobbled over to the other side of the counter where the stove was, turning it on beneath the teapot that sat ready and waiting.

  “Honestly, I don’t know. Some days I feel like I’ve lost my mind.” She laughed as she said the words, but Ana could hear the thread of seriousness in her statement.

  “How’s your foot doing?”

  “Better. I think I should have the air cast off in another few weeks or so.” She opened the cupboard to pull out a packet of green tea. “Do you want some?”

  Ana nodded. Maybe the tea would help her focus.

  “Anyway, I think mostly everything physical has healed up except for my ankle. I just feel like the rest of me is still broken.” The tea pot began to hiss. “Honestly, I’m afraid.”

  Ana felt her throat clog with tears as she heard the sadness in the other woman’s voice
; a sadness that had once been very familiar to her.

  The teapot began to whistle and Tash turned off the stove, beginning to fill their mugs.

  “I’m afraid I’ll never be myself again. It’s hard for me to even remember who that was anymore…” Tash didn’t look at her as she spoke, instead staring at the steaming water as it poured out of the pot.

  Ana heard the hopelessness in her voice. After what Pierce had said to her about her ‘perfect life,’ her heart compelled her to respond.

  “It gets better.” She walked over to stand next to Tash so that she could speak more softly. “First the body heals and then the mind. Tash, you have been so strong. I know you think that you were weak when this happened to you, but you had the strength to fight, to get away. On top of that, you had the strength to leave your home and everything and everyone you know. I know it’s tempting to look at that as running away, but you can’t fight back when you are broken.” Even though Tash didn’t look at her, Ana knew she was crying as a tear fell onto the granite.

  “How do you know? I feel like nothing has gotten better except on the outside.”

  “My ex-fiancé abused me,” she admitted softly. “And while everyone deals with trauma like that differently, your words echo my own, but so does your strength. You will heal and you will be stronger.”

  Now, Tash raised her eyes and met her gaze, a mix of surprise and wondering in them.

  “When I was in the hospital recovering from what Shane… did to me… the nurse told me something that helped me through the stage that you are in right now. She asked me if I thought that a broken bone, once healed, was stronger or weaker in the area of the fracture.” She took a sip of the tea. “Naturally, I said weaker. She replied that in fact, in the spot where it was broken, it was actually stronger than it had been before the injury.”

  Tash looked down at her mug – an attempt to further hide the tears as she realized what Ana was about to say.

  “Just like your ankle, your heart and your mind will heal; it’s not quick and it’s not easy, but when it’s done, both will be even stronger for it. You will be even stronger for this.”

  The woman let out a silent sob before wrapping her arms around Ana. She’d refrained from touching Tash to comfort her, because, at least for her, being touched in the months after Shane had disfigured her had been painful. It took over a year before she was no longer nauseous when anyone touched her scarred shoulder.

  “Thank you,” Tash said thickly, pulling back from the hug. “I don’t even know where that came from.” She let out a small laugh, wiping her eyes with her hands. “You were the one who looked distraught when I came in here and somehow I ended up being the one bawling my eyes out.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ana reassured her. “If you ever want to talk my door is always open.”

  “Thank you.” Tash picked up her mug. “And the same goes for you. If you ever need to talk about anything… including Pierce…” She trailed off on the last and Ana felt her face heat. “Sorry, I just assumed since I passed him in the hall on my way in that he’d been the one to upset you; he’s pretty good at that.”

  Ana felt her stomach clench at Tash’s tone, hating how her familiarity with Pierce sparked the tiniest resentment for the poor woman. “Well, he seems to be reserving it mostly for me; he’s always nice and cooperative with you. You’ll have to share your secret…”

  That caused Tash to laugh, a genuine smile spreading over her face wiping away any remnant of sadness. “I wouldn’t go that far. I used to think it was out of pity, I mean look at me; well, at least what I looked like when we came here. Plus, Cyn and Sloane kind of put me in his charge after everything happened. Because I’m his responsibility, I think he lays off.” She shrugged, taking another sip of tea. “But now, I have a different opinion as to why he treats me the way that he does…” Here she paused poignantly and Ana wondered just what she was trying to imply.

  Did Tash think that Pierce had feelings for her? That because he was her protector that he was falling for her?

  Ana felt her stomach clench even harder at the thought, imagining Pierce and Tash in a relationship.

  “Who knows.” Ana forced a laugh, trying to hide her unpleasant musings. “Sometimes, I think Pierce wants to be the only one who knows what he is thinking or feeling.”

  “I would completely agree with you there. Pierce has his own plans… his own schemes. I’ve heard rumors of what he’s done to his friends – even what happened with Cyn and Sloane. Only a fool would think that they can make their own rules around him,” Tash replied. She’d said it only half-jokingly, but the reality of it hit Ana like a slap in the face.

  Oh, God.

  A million thoughts whizzed through her head.

  He’d never planned on listening to her, on abiding by her wishes. All she had done was make it so that he pursued his own ideas of getting the painting without her involvement.

  “Ana, you ok?”

  She blinked twice, Tash’s concerned face coming into focus, their attention immediately drawn to Morgan as he came down the back stairwell.

  “Tash, Cyn is on the phone,” he said hesitantly, looking back and forth between the two women. “Why do I feel like I just walked in on something serious? Everything ok down here?” His gaze lingered a little longer on Ana, knowing just how much Tash’s predicament had touched a little too close to home for her the first week or so that she’d been with them.

  Tash’s gaze drifted to her, too.

  She needed to get out of there; she needed to find Pierce.

  “Sorry… I have to go. Sorry,” she answered distractedly, already setting her mug down on the countertop and reaching for her cell.

  She missed most of whatever else Tash was saying as she walked out of the kitchen toward the hall. The only thing that managed to break through to her was, “Dammit, Pierce. What have you done now?”

  “Is she ok?” Morgan asked as soon as Ana was out of earshot.

  “I don’t know… we were just talking.” Tash bit her lip. “Honestly, I thought I was the one who was more upset there for a bit. I think something happened with Pierce.”

  Morgan’s face darkened at the prospect. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust his slightly-disturbed friend. For most people, Pierce’s antics were irritating but something that was easy to recover from. Ana wasn’t most people; she’d been through a lot and he didn’t care how strong and brave a face she’d put on or how long it had been – that kind of shit stays with you in much deeper, more lethal ways.

  His twin was the strongest person that he’d ever met – and he knew a lot of strong people; Ellie had survived cancer, Sloane had survived his mom’s death and his dad’s abandonment, and Pierce… well, he still had no idea what Pierce had survived, but he was sure that it was nothing short of hell for how the man had ended up. But Ana, he’d watched her heal after Shane, after how he had broken her and every one of her dreams.

  In many ways, she’d blossomed into a new person – taking a demanding job, moving to London, traveling all over the world for work – but, in other ways, she’d cocooned herself further from the happiness of life and connecting with people.

  He was finally starting to see her make attempts to think about a relationship again; Tony was a great guy and Morgan knew that he would treat his sister right if she would just give him the chance. But now, his concern was that the self-motivated actions Pierce was taking would push Ana back into the shell that she’d kept herself in for so long.

  “I’m sure it will be fine. She’s a tough cookie,” Tash assured him, probably concerned by the way he was scowling.

  “Yeah.” He shook his head – and his frustration off of his face. “I’ll talk to him. Anyway, Cyn is on the phone. Think she just wants to check up on you.”

  Tash nodded, taking his cell from him; she didn’t have a phone – too risky.

  “Hello?”

  “Cheerio!” Her friend’s warm voice greeted her, bringing a
smile to her face.

  “Seriously, Cyn, you’ve got to stop with the fake British accent; it’s not that good.” She nodded a thanks to Morgan as he walked down the hall to give her some privacy.

  “What! Sloane said it was perfect.” She laughed.

  “Of course, he did – the man still wants to have access to your pants. Probably wants to have access to them while you talk some dirty, accented English to him,” she grumbled and Cyn burst out laughing.

  “You have a point…” Her friend admitted. “How’s everything going?”

  “Ok.” She began to rinse out her mug, having finished her cup of tea.

  “Just ok?”

  “I mean, I wish my ankle was healed, but other than that, I haven’t been doing much. So, I don’t know… I guess everything is as ok as I can expect.”

  “I’m sure it will go by quickly enough; the fact that you’re already in an air cast and off of the crutches is wonderful.” Cyn always tried to look on the bright side. “How’s the search going?”

  The painting’s recovery mission was something Tash knew even less about. “Well, I think they just got started really. We were here before Ana’s other agents, so everything has just been on standby.”

  “How’s living with Pierce going? He hasn’t… you haven’t…”

  Now it was Tash’s turn to laugh. “God, no. I mean don’t get me wrong – that night was incredible. But, it feels like a lifetime ago… it feels like I don’t even know who that person was anymore.” Her voice broke at the end of her thought, but she quickly recovered. “And he hasn’t really made any moves either; I think we both know that it was good for one night, but that we are better in this awkward friendship that we’ve got going.”

  Honestly, Tash struggled to remember her night with Pierce – which was saying a lot considering how much she’d gushed about it to her friend. No, the only night that she seemed to be able to remember with clarity was the night after the incident with Julian. But thankfully, it wasn’t the memory of who had hit her that invaded her thoughts; it was the memory of who had held her that she couldn’t seem to forget.