Delightful Temptation Page 7

  “As far as I’m concerned, he can keep groveling.” She shrugs again. This time she uses both shoulders. She sashays to her seat like a diva. Everything about her body language screams that she’s relishing this moment. “I’m not ready to forgive him yet,” she adds, sitting down behind her desk.

  She’s being way too hard on him. “I really think he’s making an effort and he’s really sorry for what he did… or I guess what he didn’t do. I’m sure he’ll never make that mistake ever again.” Clearly from what I’ve already shared, I’m ill equipped to give anyone relationship advice, but I can’t keep my mouth shut. What Piper shares with Dermott is what I would want with a man if I allowed myself to believe.

  “You and your American optimism,” she scolds. “I’m way too British for that,” she says, lifting her chin smugly.

  “Well, if you ask me, you could use some of our ‘it’s possible’ Kool-Aid.”

  “Says the girl who claims she scares Mr. Right away because it’s just not possible for her to catch him in her net.”

  “Touché. That said, I’m single. I don’t have a wonderful man trying his darnedest to show you how sorry he is. What more do you want from him? You should cut him some slack. He’s paid his dues.” I’m going to bat for a guy I’ve only met a few times. The thing is, Piper and Dermott look like they’re so in love.

  “Hmph.” Piper leans forward and puts her elbows on her desk. She places her chin against her folded hands and blinks up at me. “Well, if you ask me, he should’ve put all this effort in last week when it was actually time to celebrate our one-year anniversary of living together. I mean, how can you forget? Do you know how many hints I’ve dropped during the month preceding our big day?” She huffs. Her frustration is palpable. I guess things haven’t quite settled between the two of them since the big blowup.

  “I have five older brothers—”

  “Wow, I didn’t realize you had such a large family. It’s just me and my baby sister.”

  “My parents kept trying. My mom was determined. She’s very Southern. It was inconceivable for her that her family would be complete until she had a little girl. After Mom gave birth to Connor, her youngest boy, they kept at it, but nothing happened for six long years. Then one day, Mom fainted in the kitchen in the middle of preparing dinner. It’s only when Dad rushed her to the hospital that they found out that she wasn’t sick, but expecting.”

  “That’s such an incredible story.”

  “Yeah, I guess that’s why my mom calls me a blessed accident.” I giggle.

  “That’s too cute.”

  “I know. Secretly, I’m proud of the label. It makes me feel so special to know how much my parents wanted me.” For a brief few seconds I flash back to my incredible family dynamic. I’m so grateful I get to live out my dream career in an exciting European city, but God knows how much I miss them. “As I was saying, Connor used to joke that men need a flashing neon sign and a red arrow pointing at it to clue them in to what we’re thinking as women. Since Connor is the closest to me in age, he kind of became my boyfriend whisperer. He always gave me a good old-fashioned pep talk on how to deal with boys when I’d come home bummed out from a bad date.” Not that it prevented me from having the worst relationships ever. “Momma used to say the same. If I had a dollar for every time she said, ‘Men are so easy to read,’ I’d own this gallery instead of working in it,” I say, pointing at the floor. “Momma kept reminding me that there aren’t that many layers to men. Women on the other hand… we’re way more complex. It’s harder for men to decipher our emotions. So you may have thought you were being so obvious, while Dermott is thinking, What’s got into her? She’s been acting mighty strange lately, right before shrugging it off and focusing on the soccer match he was watching.”

  Piper burst out laughing. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been spying on Dermott and I. That sums things up beautifully. Since I just found out the error of my ways, it all makes sense now. I kept trying harder, but to no avail. Every hint, no matter how unsubtle, just went way over his head.”

  “I firmly believe that the only way to really get a man’s attention is to slap him upside the head. You have to come out and tell them exactly what you want—no pussyfooting. It always worked for me when my brothers ignored me.” I grin.

  Piper exhales as she collapses against the seat of her chair. “Perhaps I’ve been holding a grudge for too long. I guess six days is enough. Maybe it’s time to call a truce.” She sighs. Her tone is much warmer.

  “That’s the spirit. I’m so glad you’ve changed your mind about this. Why don’t I run back to my desk and grab your bouquet?” She shakes her head with a teasing smile on her lips. “What?” She’s already had time to change her mind about the flowers?

  “How can you live without sex for that long and claim you repel good men when you have this much insight?”

  “Frankly, I think it’s the mystery of our time,” I joke. We both laugh. “I’m really good with the logical side of relationships. I fail at picking the right ones.” I shrug. “I’m starting to think it’s a curse, especially after Paul.”

  “Wow. This guy did quite the number on you.” I nod, looking down at my feet. “Personally, I think you only need to meet one or two good ones to completely change your way of thinking.”

  Yeah, with my luck, I wouldn’t hold my breath. Instead of rehashing the conversation we just had when Katrina was still here, I agree. “Maybe you’re right.” I force myself to cheer.

  “I might be blonde, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t see right through you. That was a commendable effort, but alas, your heart wasn’t in it. I’m not going to argue with you now, because we both need to get back to work, but I’m forewarning you, Saturday night I intend to push you way past your comfort zone.”

  She really doesn’t have to do that. “Since when did casual drinks turn into a matchmaking affair?” I ask, concerned.

  “Who said anything about matchmaking? Have you ever heard of the art of flirting? It’s innocent, fun and nonthreatening. It’s perfect for ingénues like yourself.”

  “You should know in advance I miserably failed that class.” I snort sarcastically.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head. Just make sure to dress the part. I already know Gideon will transform you into a sexy siren. You’ll only need a dab of makeup to stop traffic. Mark my words, by the end of the evening you’ll be a pro and you’ll have men eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  “If you say so.” I’m fully aware I don’t sound very enthusiastic.

  “Have a little faith, Delilah. Not to mention, you need to get the ball rolling because your fanny needs some action, pronto.”

  “What—”

  Piper cuts me off. “You’ll thank me later.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Ethan

  Fifteen more minutes to go, I tell myself when I look down at my watch.

  Although this meeting is going smashingly, I can’t help but be eager to wrap things up. I could say it’s because I’m in a rush to get back to my office to attend to urgent deadlines, or that I have an important call to make to a prospective client who’s ready to fork out several hundreds of thousands of pounds sterling to acquire new artwork, or I could even claim that I have to follow up with a new young artist who might just turn out to be the biggest thing to take the art world by storm in a long time. I could indeed, but I’d be lying. There’s only one reason why I’m so obsessed with the minutes ticking away as quickly as possible. Delilah.

  The second we’re done here, I intend on marching straight to her desk to thank her for the delicious sandwich she ordered. Clearly, this is a clever attempt to strike up a conversation with the sexy, curvaceous American without looking too obvious. This is her place of work and this is a new position for her—it’s best to tread carefully. My real motivation is to ask her out for a drink. Of course, the plan is to extend things into dinner and then possibly a nightcap or two. After that, who
knows? If I play my cards right, I should be able to taste her luscious lips before the end of the evening. If I turn on the charm and heighten the seduction factor, I might be lucky enough to taste her other set of lips as well. Something tells me they’re intoxicating.

  I know I saw her first, but this sweet little thing is the kind of sensual beauty my best friend and I would fight over. Of course, it’s all in good fun because we’d never allow a woman to come between us. We go way back and we’ve shared too much to put our friendship on the line. There’s not a pussy in the world that’s worth jeopardizing such a solid bond. I’d sooner walk away than risk creating any friction between us—and I’m certain he’d do the same. We may not be blood brothers, but this is as close as it gets. We’ve always had a preference for buxom women and make no excuse for it. I know we’d both enjoy Delilah immensely.

  I’m still lost in my thoughts when I suddenly notice Ashley smiling at me. My momentary distraction isn’t a good thing. Did she just ask me a question and is she waiting for the answer? “I’m sorry, Ashley, you were saying?” I hope I didn’t miss too much.

  “I know it’s been a long meeting and even with three cups of strong coffee, it’s still draining.” She looks so apologetic.

  “Not at all,” I reassure her. I really should be paying attention instead of daydreaming of the way my big balls would sound bouncing against Delilah’s clit as I take her from behind, my hips pounding relentlessly against that exquisite round ass of hers with both of my hands cupped around her huge tits. I’m sure they’re heavy and hang low—just the way I like them. Damn. As cock-hardening as the thought is—and God knows that would be the sweetest sound in the world—this is not the time nor the place. I quickly gather my thoughts to come across as the professional that I am. “You know how much I enjoy working with you and your team. We’ve had an excellent creative session and we covered so much. I already know that my clients will be fighting each other to get their hands on the artwork of some of these new artists you’ve just signed up. That said, I predict that Virginia Fairclough will soon become one of the most sought-after American artist in the UK. Great job on snatching her before the competition did.” I wink.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that, Ethan. And, by the way, I completely agree with your assessment of Virginia. Her talent is boundless. Her art is so bold, colorful and vibrant. They’re statement pieces.” Ashley shrugs in a matter-of-fact way. That’s a typical reaction in our industry when you know you’ve discovered a gem. “She’s truly what we call a diamond in the rough.”

  “Not for long.” I wink again. “I expect that before the end of the day, I’ll already have contacted five potential buyers I know off the top of my head who would absolutely be enthralled by her work.” I grin.

  “This is such an exciting ride,” Ashley rejoices. “We got a little sidetracked, but to answer your earlier question, I was just saying that we saved the best for last.” She beams.

  “You did?” Really? Virginia is only one of the seven new artists Ashley and her team has been briefing me on. I can’t believe there’s more. “What have you been hiding from me?” I tease.

  “It’s big news.” Benjamin jumps in.

  Ashley nods. “As unbelievable as it may seem, the roster of new creative talent we’ve secured is phenomenal, but still, they don’t hold a candle to this artistic genius I have yet to reveal. She’s absolutely brilliant.”

  “Have you discovered a modern-day Jackson Pollock?” I chuckle.

  “You could say that.” Wow. Ashley’s answer surprises me.

  “In that case, you definitely have my attention. The suspense surrounding this mystery artist is killing me,” I joke.

  “In our industry, you’d have to be living on Mars not to have heard of this talented abstract impressionist. You’re going to die when you find out who it is. I know I nearly had a heart attack,” Benjamin says, fanning himself dramatically.

  “Seriously? Now I’m really intrigued.” I rub my hands together in anticipation.

  “Since it’s nearly two o’clock, may I suggest we continue this meeting over lunch?” Ashley asks.

  How can she do this to me? “Is that a stalling tactic, Ashley?” I retort.

  “Not at all, Ethan. I’m far too famished to be that witty. As delicious as that breakfast sandwich was, it’s long gone. Obviously, I could ask Constance or Delilah to order something for us to eat here, but we’ve been cooped up long enough. Don’t you agree?”

  “That’s just cruel,” I lament. “How can you tease me like that and leave me hanging?”

  “Anticipation keeps you hungry, dear Ethan.” She’s right. The expectation of new business is definitely a driving force for me.

  “Ashley, we’ve worked together long enough. You know that I’m always eager to bring fresh new talent to my long list of clients with deep pockets. Why don’t you pull the rabbit out of the hat right now so we can get this over with?” I press.

  When I first walked in Harrow Sloane Arts four years ago, Ashley Shilton was starting out as a curator. She was fresh out of a PhD degree from Goldsmiths, University of London, and just by chance she was also a fan from the heyday of my former career. At the time, I only had one client—my former business manager—but Ashley convinced the owner of the gallery to ignore my past and take a chance on me. I’m grateful she did. In many ways she gave me my first big break. I’ve been riding high ever since.

  “I can’t argue with the fact that you’re a master at selling our artists to your clients. I promise I’ll lay my cards on the table the second my stomach is full. Not to mention, I could use a change of scenery,” she says.

  “I’m too much of a gentleman to refuse to feed a beautiful woman.”

  “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She winks. “Esther can’t join us. She has an important meeting with a client who’ll only work with her, but why don’t Benjamin, you and I go and grab a bite to eat?”

  “All right. Food first,” I say, slamming my palm against the conference room table.

  “Great, it’s settled.” Ashley jumps to her feet. “Esther will attend to her temperamental mogul. I mean Mr. Ficht.” Ashley flashes us a sly smile. We all laugh. “The three of us are going to stretch our legs and make our way to the restaurant for a hearty meal.”

  * * *

  When Ashley suggested lunch, I thought she was talking about a quick bite. I didn’t expect this. Apparently she made the reservation last week, which leads me to believe this new artist she’s discovered—and is withholding from me—is really golden.

  Portrait Restaurant is a modern British restaurant on top of the National Portrait Gallery. The view across London is unparalleled. The food is equally unmatched. Both Benjamin and I feast on the exquisite grilled veal chop with Roquefort butter served with mixed leaf salad. Alas, Ashley has to take home her breast of duck with summer truffle. We’re just getting comfortable when she receives a call from the nursery where she takes her youngest daughter. Apparently, Mia is inconsolable after being bullied, again, by a little menace by the name of Yvonne. Since Ashley’s husband Samuel is on business in Amsterdam until next week, she’s the sole parent to her two kids. After apologizing, she slips her designer handbag over her shoulder and before Benjamin and I even have time to say goodbye she’s gone, her hurried steps carrying her to the door.

  Over a decadent chocolate marquise dessert with pistachio crème Anglaise and a couple more glasses of French wine, Benjamin fills me in on the mystery American artist they secured. The second he drops her name, my eyes light up. You’d think I was a child standing in the middle of Trafalgar Square mesmerized by the tall, illuminated Christmas tree. Ashley was right. This is a bloody big deal.

  “Calysta Knight?” That’s phenomenal,” I marvel as Benjamin recounts the detail surrounding the long courtship before the talented artist finally said yes.

  “Everything is still so new and I can’t quite wrap my head around it all, but Monday night when we hung up
the phone with her, I knew I was part of something incredible. Ashley’s warm personality won her over. It took months of negotiation.” I’m surprised Benjamin is willingly giving Ashley the credit when she’s not even here. It’s not usually how he operates. He tends to brown-nose only when the person he’s sucking up to is still present in the room.

  “This is the kind of artist that will make a significant impact on the gallery’s notoriety,” I note. It will also be quite the coup for my own business.

  “Oh, trust me. Everyone is fully aware of it, Ethan. We’re so excited. Ashley convinced the owner of the gallery to let us organize a gala to kick things off and he agreed on the spot.”

  “That’s incredible news. I’m definitely looking forward to it. When will it take place?”

  “Since Calysta spends the summer with her kids at her summer home, we won’t start to represent her until the end of September, but Ashley convinced her to come to London sooner to kick things off. Her presence here next month will get everyone in the industry buzzing, which means this upcoming gala will officially welcome her to British soil. I’m sure the evening will be a smashing success. Calysta and her husband will be here in July. It’s not going to be a huge thing. Think an intimate affair with maybe fifty guests or so. That said, it should bring out Londoners who have money to burn.”

  “Indeed it will.” The wealth in this city is staggering.

  “We’re planning something much more elaborate in autumn. That event will draw in at least three hundred art aficionados, if not more. It’s going to be huge.”

  “This will definitely make history, Benjamin.”

  He leans in closer and looks from left to right before speaking again. “There’s more.”

  “Really?” I match his hushed tone. “What could possibly top this news?” Benjamin beams at my reaction. If this day gets any better, I’ll have to buy a EuroMillions lottery ticket.

  “What I didn’t tell you is that Calysta has sixteen exclusive pieces she worked over the last couple of years. Most of us in the art world were completely oblivious to their existence. While she was recovering from her ovarian cancer, she lost herself in her passion as a way to heal.”