Maybe Nadia was right.
Just then a familiar figure strode outside the gallery doors, and Lyssa’s heart did a somersault. It was James, looking even more handsome than yesterday, if that was possible. He hadn’t shaved since she’d last seen him and a shadow of a beard highlighted the yummy cleft in his chin. He wore a gray cable-knit sweater over black slacks, and his hands were slung into his pockets.
His gaze roved around the area and then landed on her. There was no mistaking the delight in his expression, or the answering soar in her chest.
James’s lips curved into a heartbreaking grin and he crossed the street, coming to a stop directly in front of her. “I wasn’t sure you were coming.”
“Me either.”
His eyes slowly traveled down her body, as if drinking in the sight of her. The move made her shiver with heat, and her nipples grew stiff beneath the fabric of her bra. She thanked goodness for the jacket that hid her body’s traitorous response to him.
Finally seeming to notice he was staring, he shook his head and cleared his throat. “My younger brother Sam is debuting a new collection tonight. He’s pretty good at what he does. Care to see?”
“Yes.” That was the guise under which she’d come, after all. When he turned back toward the gallery, she fell into place beside him. As they walked, she asked, “I thought your brother was the Art Director for your company?”
“Technically, yes. He prefers to work on his own paintings whenever he can, though.”
His offhand statement was an all too sharp reminder of how different their worlds were. James came from a family where they could easily shirk their duties in favor of their passions. If she did that, not only would her family starve, but it could cost her mother’s life.
What am I doing here? Even if Martin Freeman weren’t in the picture, James is so out of my league.
The thought sent a burst of panic through Lyssa. As if he sensed her sudden urge to flee, James’s hand came to rest on her back. He guided her through the open doors and into the gallery.
Sudden warmth smacked her in the face. It was at least ten degrees warmer inside, a marked change in temperature no doubt caused by the number of people wandering throughout the space. That probably explained why the doors had been left open.
“Sam has been presenting his work at this gallery for over five years,” James said. “The owners are friends. His shows have become quite popular with this sort of crowd.”
“That must be exciting for your brother.” If his shows were this packed, he must be doing well as an artist…though she supposed it had to be a lot easier to paint when one wasn’t weighed down by the stress of worrying about making a living.
“Let me take your jacket.”
His hands moved to her shoulders, leaving her no choice but to unbutton her jacket and slip it off.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmured into her ear.
The kiss of his breath on her earlobe brought back images of their night together, of yesterday at the restaurant. Lyssa bit her lip to stem the tide of longing that rose within her.
She used his absence as an opportunity to study the interior of the gallery. It was much larger than it had seemed from the outside. The throng of people moving around had simply made that difficult to see. The flooring was a beautiful blond wood, and strategically lit white walls highlighted the art hung upon them. There were several interior walls that created a maze of sorts, and the whole place practically reeked of class and elegance. All in all, it was far more impressive than the few dinky art galleries she’d gone into.
James reappeared by her side, his hand clasping hers before she even processed his arrival. He tugged her forward through the crowd, pausing only to snag two glasses of champagne from a server carrying a tray. He handed one to her. “The various artist collections are cordoned off by section. My brother’s is this corner over here.”
As she took a sip of the fruity, fizzy concoction, she recognized that all of the paintings in the section looked similar—mostly streaks of bold primary colors that had been arranged into various patterns.
Andrew came to a stop in front of one of them. His expression grew serious, his back stiffening.
Lyssa studied the bold strokes of black, red, and purple slashing across the white canvas. “It sort of looks angry.”
He nodded his head once. “Yup.”
She glanced at the little white plaque next to the painting that identified Sam as the artist. The piece was titled Mother.
Oh, boy.
She gave another glance toward James, debating whether or not to address that loaded topic, when he downed the contents of his champagne flute and moved on to the next piece.
Guess not.
They studied the pieces in his brother’s collection in silence, though truthfully, Lyssa paid more attention to James’s reaction than to the actual artwork itself. Some of them, like the one named The Morning After, made him chuckle. Others, like Sorrow and Apathy, seemed to make him sad. There was clearly a story there, and she had to admit, seeing the irrefutable proof of how much James cared for his brother touched her. At least here they had common ground.
“What do you think?” he asked her.
She glanced at the piece they stood before. Bold splotches of black, blue, and yellow blotted the canvas. It was entitled Bite Me.
A laugh rumbled from her throat. “Cheeky. I like it.”
His grin was unmistakably proud. “This one’s my favorite of the bunch.”
A deep voice sounded out directly behind them. “Does that mean you’ll be purchasing it for your private collection?” A hand clapped James on the shoulder.
James turned and caught the man standing behind him in a one-armed hug. “We’ll see about that, chump.”
Ah, this must be Sam.
He looked a lot like James, actually. A slightly younger, much more casual version. Instead of slacks and a sweater like James, he wore ripped jeans and a black, lightweight turtleneck. His hair was longer and streaked with shades of light brown.
As she finished off the remainder of her champagne, Sam’s curious gaze landed on her. One of his eyebrows lifted slightly, and when James pulled back, he asked him, “You brought a date?”
Embarrassment heated her cheeks and she lowered her glass. “No—”
“A friend,” James said, cutting her off before she could say more. “Lyssa Rivera, this is my brother Sam Everly. Sam, meet Lyssa.”
Sam’s lips curled into a wolfish grin and he caught her outstretched hand, lifting it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
James’s eyes went hard, but his smile stayed in place. “Back off.”
Startled, Sam locked gazes with his brother. Some sort of silent exchange passed between them. “Oh…a friend.”
When he straightened and fell back a respectful distance, Lyssa realized what he had just assumed. She automatically opened her mouth to disabuse him of that notion, when it hit her that, oh yeah, she sort of was that kind of friend. At least if you counted their one night together.
Which, hell yes, it counted. It counted as the best freaking night of her life. Not that she would ever admit that to James.
Sam gave her a polite smile. “I hope you’re enjoying the show.”
“It’s great,” she answered honestly, motioning toward Bite Me. “I love this one.”
He chuckled. “One of my more inspired pieces.”
Lyssa further examined the bruise-colored smudges of the painting. “What’s your inspiration?”
“Everything around me.” He studied his artwork for a moment before grinning. “I think I might have created that one after a phone conversation with my older brother Andrew.”
James barked out a laugh. “He certainly has been known to spark that particular emotion.”
Sam shot him a conspiratorial smirk. His gaze traveled over her head and he nodded toward something across the room. “Speak of the devil.”
“There’s
Andrew.” James held his hand out to her. “I’d like to introduce you to my older brother and his girlfriend, Hailey.”
A smattering of discomfort wound through her as she looked down at his outstretched hand. She shouldn’t accept it, she knew that. But at the same time, it would be rude not to, especially given that his younger brother was staring right at them.
And if part of her wanted to hold his hand?
Well, that part was silly and should be ignored.
Telling herself it was only so James wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of Sam, she slid her hand into his. But the moment their palms touched, she knew she’d been lying. His purely masculine heat sent a tremor of awareness up her arm and into her chest.
Damn, something about this man drove her crazy. She didn’t know what it was. Clearly, he was hot—too hot for her, really—and he exuded success and confidence. But there was something more. Something uniquely him that she responded to in a way she’d never responded to any man before.
If only things were different…
She cut off that train of thought before it could fully form. Things were what they were, and there was no point wasting any time wishing differently. She’d learned that lesson well in the past few years.
Sam led them through the crowd, pausing here and there to murmur a word to someone or accept a congratulatory handshake. When a server crossed their path, James took her empty champagne flute and set the glasses onto the server’s tray. Then he took her hand again, and she didn’t even bother to work up a protest.
At last they came to a stop before a tall, imposing man who resembled both James and Sam. He wore a black suit that Lyssa instantly knew cost more than her entire wardrobe, and a mauve dress shirt that somehow looked effortlessly masculine on him. A silk patterned tie completed his outfit, and his hair was neatly trimmed around the collar.
So, this was the infamous eldest brother she’d heard so much about. Who knew a guy wearing pink could look so commanding? Even without knowing he was Andrew, she would have guessed he was a CEO or some other high-ranking executive. He practically oozed power and certainty.
He was a little scary, actually.
Sam punched Andrew on the shoulder. “Shit bro, I can’t believe you came.”
Andrew frowned, but then he pulled Sam in for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it hug. “Your collection is good. Possibly the best one yet.”
Sam’s cheeks colored and a little smile crept to his face. “Thanks.”
The woman standing beside Andrew—a cute, bubbly brunette with a mass of wavy hair rolled into a haphazard topknot—gave Lyssa a bright smile and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Hailey Thompson, Andrew’s girlfriend.”
Hailey surprised Lyssa. Everything about her, from her messy hair to her hot pink dress with its short, flaring skirt, seemed fun and carefree. She would have pegged Hailey as Sam’s type, maybe even James’s, but not Andrew’s. He seemed like he would be more at home with a wealthy socialite type. But there was no mistaking the look of love on Andrew’s face when he gazed down at Hailey. He was a goner.
Seeing how Andrew’s expression instantly softened put Lyssa at ease. A man who looked at his woman like that couldn’t be too frightening.
“I’m Lyssa Rivera. James’s, ah…friend.” She shook Hailey’s hand, then Andrew’s.
Hailey gave her an all too knowing once-over, then grinned at James. “I’m glad you brought a friend, James. And here I thought you were going to be an old fuddy-duddy tonight, what with all the overtime you’ve been putting in lately.”
“Ha ha,” James said dryly.
“I would have said Andrew was rubbing off on you, but even he’s been working less than you these past few weeks,” she teased.
The reason for that was clear to Lyssa. He’d been working on his presentation to Martin Freeman.
The unintentional reminder of the one big thing standing between her and her firm’s expansion sent a surge of discomfort through her spine. James might have felt the same way because his hand landed on the small of her back, sending a rush of automatic longing through her body.
“Hey, speaking of,” Hailey continued. “How did your presentation go—”
“No more talk of business tonight,” Andrew interrupted, exchanging a quick but loaded glance with James. “This is all about Sam.”
“Ooh, baby. I like it when you say ‘no business talk’.” Hailey giggled and, uncaring of their presence, grasped Andrew’s tie and dragged him down for a long, passionate kiss that left Lyssa squirming in discomfort. A tad turned on, too, she had to admit.
James cleared his throat and Sam made a gagging sound. “You guys are being disgusting again. Go get a room.”
Hailey broke away from Andrew with a tinkling laugh. Andrew, for his part, looked embarrassed, but he also looked too happy to really care about it.
“Or at least sneak into the back or something,” Sam muttered.
Andrew laughed and clapped Sam on the shoulder. “Congrats, little brother. Excuse us.” He grasped Hailey’s hand and they both uttered their polite farewells before sidling off. Presumably to somewhere more private.
“Gross.” Sam gave a mock shudder, which morphed into a grin when he turned back to Lyssa. “I’d better go greet some of my adoring fans. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lyssa. Hope to see you again.”
“You too.”
Sam strode off, leaving her alone in James’s company. His fingers stroked down her back a fraction, sparking an all too palpable reminder of the heat between them.
Lyssa shifted to face James, purposefully moving away from his touch. It was too distracting. “Your brothers are great.”
His bright blue eyes glimmered as he grinned down at her. “I know, right?”
A server stopped in front of them with a tray of hors d'oeuvres. “Care for anything, Sir? Madame?”
She wasn’t hungry, but she snagged a bruschetta with fresh basil leaves and a mini quiche anyway. They looked too delicious not to have a taste.
“No, thank you,” James murmured, and the server moved on. “Care to have a look at the rest of the gallery?”
“Sure.” She followed his lead and they wandered through the rest of the space, drinking more champagne while they observed the various types of artwork.
“These are my favorite,” James said stopping in front of a group of impressionistic paintings depicting happy lovers wrapped in tight embraces. “Besides Sam’s work of course.”
Lyssa shot a startled peek at him. “My, my. Could it be that you have a hidden romantic streak?”
“Maybe.” He grinned. “Or could be I just like sex.”
Huh? A closer glance revealed the embraces were, in fact, artfully posed sexual positions. A startled laugh tumbled from her lips. “I should have guessed.”
James gave her a brazen wink. When someone let out a raucous laugh directly behind them, he glanced back and then leaned down to murmur into her ear. “It’s getting crowded in here. Want to step outside for a bit?”
She hesitated, then glanced back at the artsy clock hanging high up on one of the walls. “It’s getting late, actually. I should go.” She didn’t want to. She found she was enjoying James’s company far more than she should. At the same time, it was a long way back to Brooklyn, and she had to be up early to walk Carlos to school.
Something that looked like disappointment wound through his gaze, but he simply nodded and took her empty flute. “Stay here. I’ll go get your jacket.”
True to his word, he was back a few moments later with her jacket in tow. His hand rested on her shoulder and he helped her work her way through the crowd and out the doors.
“Whew.” She gratefully accepted James’s assistance in getting her jacket back on. “It was crowded in there.”
“Sam’s a regular party animal,” James said. “His shows are generally well-attended. You should see the blowouts he throws back at his place.”
Lyssa turned back to face him. The artificial orange glow ca
st by the streetlamps only served to highlight his masculine beauty. Something in her tummy twisted at the sight of him. It really wasn’t fair.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye to your brothers and Hailey,” she finally said.
He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s too crazy in there to even try finding them right now. I’ll let them know you said goodbye.”
She nodded and took a breath, finally giving voice to the thought that had hounded her most of the night. “Why did you invite me here, James?”
James’s jaw grew tight. He averted his gaze for a moment, then seemed to steel himself before locking eyes with her. “I wanted you to see my family. To know how much they mean to me. Andrew is only two years older than me, but he’s more of a father to me than our own ever was.”
“I like him,” Lyssa said. “And Hailey. She’s good for him.”
“You have no clue,” he murmured. “Before Hailey came into his life, he was wound so tight it was a miracle he didn’t drop dead of a heart attack. She made things better, for the most part.”
His last words seemed loaded with meaning. “For the most part?”
“Andrew was involved with someone else when they met. The daughter of our company’s largest investor, Daniel Milstrom. When he got together with Hailey, Daniel pulled his investment.”
Everything began to make sense. “So you lost a big chunk of your financial support?”
“All that we needed to complete the expansion.” James’s bright, earnest gaze bored into her, as if willing her to understand. “Which is why I need Martin so badly.”
“Ah.”
“I can’t let Andrew down, Lyssa.” James closed the distance between them, sliding his hand along her cheek. “That’s the one thing I can’t do.”
“I see,” she murmured as it all fell into place. He wanted her to know why winning Martin’s support was so important to him. Why he wasn’t going to back down.
The crazy thing was, she understood. Heck, who better than she could comprehend the sacrifices one made for family?
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