Aullie was drunk. Too much free champagne had her mind foggy and she wandered around the gigantic maze of a showroom. The paintings, all the bright colors seemed to blur together and it was very overwhelming. She was looking for her new friends, but couldn’t find them anywhere.
‘Oh well’, Aullie thought, swigging from her sixth or seventh glass of bubbly.
Wasn’t there something else she should be looking for?
‘Oh yeah’, she realized.
Weston!
She hadn’t seen her tuxedoed stalker since the strange incident with him earlier and figured he had probably gone home. It hadn’t really seemed like he was there for the art anyway. So, what was he there for?
Aullie truly had no ideas. She was growing bored with the show, sure there was plenty of art and expressions to contemplate and all that stuff, but between Gerald’s surprise kiss and Weston’s random appearance, Aullie was far off her game and exhausted.
‘I’m going home’, she decided. She was probably in no shape to be driving and she was sure apologetic little Gerald wouldn’t mind either driving her home or holding her paintings until the next day, so she wouldn’t have to pack them all up before the show was over. She just had to find him first.
Slowly, Aullie swerved her way around another freestanding white wall and found herself back in her own exhibit. Her jaw dropped.
Every single one of her paintings, big and small, dark and bright, had a little red sticker next to it. Every painting had sold. Aullie’s befuddled mind tried to do the math, it was confusing because there were fourteen paintings that were each set to sell for different prices. Each one was over a hundred dollars, though, so Aullie was going to be walking out of there with over a thousand bucks.
The breath leapt from her chest. It would be the first time her bank account would have a comma in it for the first time in she didn’t even know how long. That would help with her rent and more than made up for the night of work she missed that night.
Most importantly though, she was making it as an artist!
Admittedly it was a small start but even the greats had to start somewhere, and she almost wanted to take it all out in cash and rub the bills in Eric’s piggy little face.
Aullie couldn’t stop staring at the little red dots. She was so distracted that she jumped a little when Gerald approached her with a friendly pat on the back of her arm.
“Jesus,” she said, putting a hand over her fluttering heart. “Sorry, you scared me.”
“Distracted by the money, the fortune, and the fame?” Gerald asked, coyly. His face beamed with pride and he really was genuinely happy to have seen Aullie do so incredibly well, especially in a show that he was able to get her into.
“I guess you could say that,” Aullie said, a prideful smile crept across her lips.
“You wanna know the crazy part?” Gerald asked, tone upbeat and excitable.
“There’s a crazy part?” Aullie replied.
“They were all bought by one guy. Some crazy rich collector. He paid above asking price on all of them, and insisted they offer you a permanent showcase in the gallery! The manager went totally nuts, he even paid all upfront in cash. I’ve met some eccentric collectors, but I’ve never seen anybody do that before.”
Aullie’s excitement bubble popped and her stomach sank to her knees. She would bet all the money she just made that she knew exactly who bought the paintings.
“It didn’t happen to be a tall-ish guy with blonde-ish hair, way overdressed in a fancy-ass tuxedo, did it?” Aullie asked, bitterly.
Gerald’s brows furrowed over his hipster frames. “Yeah, actually,” he said, sounding baffled. “How’d you know?”
“He’s a…” What was the right word? He wasn’t an ex, really. He definitely wasn’t a friend. “He’s a problem I’ve been having,” she settled on.
“Oh,” said Gerald, looking confused. “Well, either way, you got paid. And you’ve got a spot. So, you better ramp up that original work, get some more paintings in here, I think they were talking about giving you two full walls!”
All her passionate, artistic dreams were being fulfilled, and Aullie couldn’t be any more pissed. Her fists clenched at her sides, a scowl twisted her made-up face and her drunken haze disappeared as a surge of angry adrenaline cleared her mind.
“Is the guy still here?”
“Um, I don’t really know for sure,” Gerald replied. He said something else, but Aullie didn’t hear it and it didn’t matter.
Weston was staring right at her.
Not even twenty feet away, he stood there all overdressed; exuding confidence and power. A tumbler of scotch was in his hand, but his eyes were clear and he looked sober. He probably would’ve looked incredibly sexy if Aullie wasn’t so damn angry.
Weston smiled at her.
Aullie glared him down. He remained still as she stormed toward him, feeling as though flames were shooting from her ears.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, probably a little too loud and angry for the quieter, classy event but in that moment, she couldn’t care less.
“Well, it’s nice to see you too, Aullie,” his smooth British voice purred, that infuriating smile still curling his lips. Aullie had never wanted to smack someone so bad in her life.
“Why would you buy all my paintings? What are they, just gifts for your other girlfriends?”
“Gifts? For other girlfriends? God, no, Aullie I’m not like that,” he explained. “I tried to tell you when I came to your apartment, but you slammed the door in my face. I called a few times but you had me blocked, so I figured I would respect your space. But what you saw isn’t what you thought it was.”
“Oh, so you weren’t out on an early date with some beautiful, curvaceous blonde? Her hand wasn’t on your knee, yours wasn’t on her forearm?”
Weston shook his head, looking exasperated. “Technically, yes, most of those things are true but it wasn’t some hot date. The woman you saw me with, who would love to hear those lovely compliments you gave her, is my cousin.”
“Wh-What?” Aullie stuttered. She suddenly felt like the stupidest person on Earth. She had thrown away the person who was bringing out something new, something better, in her because he was out with his cousin? All she had to do was let him say a few words that day on her pathetic little excuse for a porch or answered one single phone call.
“Yes. Her name’s Hayley, we’ve been very close since we were young, so I could see how our physical intimacy may have come off the wrong way. I was trying to comfort her, she recently lost her husband.”
“Oh,” Aullie said, her insides awash with shame and guilt. “And you left her to come to my apartment? God, I just feel awful…”
“Hey,” Weston said with a warm smile. “It’s ok. She was understanding and I did go back and spend the rest of the afternoon with her, it’s really ok.”
“How’d she lose her husband?”
“He was shot,” Weston said, suddenly grim.
“Oh, my god!” Aullie exclaimed. “By who? Do they know?”
“Nope, no idea.” Weston’s sudden caginess caught Aullie off guard and made her suspicious but it seemed best not to push it. She’d seen how mean he could get earlier.
“So, why are you even here? How did you find out I was showing?”
“I didn’t actually,” he admitted. “I was here for a meeting with a friend and seeing you was just a bonus. I recognized some of your paintings and figured if I couldn’t have you, I could at least have part of you. I know how much it all means to you and I wanted to make sure you got a guaranteed space to pursue your dreams.”
“So, you used your rich man pull to sell out my exhibit and get me a spot? You really pity me that much?” Aullie said, indignantly. She couldn’t believe him.
“Look Aullie, me being rich has nothing to do with it. You’re talented, I’m not even the only one who bid on your works, I swear. I just made sure to outbid them,” he said with a coy
smile.
Well, she thought. At least the other bids were there. If he’s telling the truth.
“I really want to see you succeed,” he said. “I mean that.”
“I... appreciate that,” Aullie said, not sure what else there was to say. Things were awkward between them. She had overreacted and here he was anyway, trying to help her live the life she wanted to live.
She was usually pretty resistant to the idea of a knight in shining armor, she had never wanted to be a damsel in distress.
But there he was, in all his shining glory.
“I don’t like to depend on men,” Aullie blurted, suddenly, breaking the silence and startling them both.
“You’re not depending on me, I’m simply an interested collector with loud opinions. Plus, the gallery owner is a woman, and you all seem to have a thing for these British accents,” he said with a wink.
“It definitely doesn’t hurt,” Aullie agreed. “You could probably have any woman you wanted.”
“Actually,” he said, “I can’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you see, the only woman I want, blocked my number. I can’t seem to get ahold of her to ask her out again.”
With that, Aullie blushed. Her behavior was embarrassing and she just had such a hard time believing he wanted her that badly.
“Well, he might have bought enough of her art to warrant an un-blocking,” she said, with an amused shrug.
“You think so?” he asked, beaming.
“Yeah,” she said, keeping her eyes low. “I do.”
With a gentle hand, he brought Aullie’s chin up, forcing her to look into his golden eyes and she felt as though she were falling into them. He was just so beautiful, not only on the outside but the inside as well.
They may have their differences, but it seemed like a stupid choice to keep running from someone who so badly wanted to support her and help her make her dreams come true.
When he kissed her, gently, she kissed him back hard. The same electricity that had crackled between them before, was back and stronger than ever.
Aullie was finally ready to give in to the gorgeous, mysterious, confusing man and see where the sparks between them could really go.
When they broke apart, Weston kept his face close to hers and his arms around her waist, whispering in her ear, “You look amazing in that dress by the way.”
“Thank you,” she giggle-whispered.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he said, beaming down at her. There were smudged traces of Aullie’s dark lipstick on his mouth and he didn’t seem to have any motivation to wipe them away.
It’s almost like I’ve claimed him, she thought. It was kind of sexy, knowing that this man wanted to be hers, and wanted everyone else to know it too.
Aullie realized in that one, beautiful moment that she was ready.
She was ready to see what it meant to fall in love.
Rich in Love Part Four
Chapter 1
The air was freezing as she went out the door on Weston’s arm. Her nose automatically crinkled when the air hit it. She snuggled deep into his side as he pulled her in close, wrapping his arm around her.
“You’ve had a bit to drink, haven’t you?” he asked her as he led her to his Aston Martin.
She nodded as she eyed the car. The ostentatious vehicle which had triggered such a bad reaction from her at the beginning of what would’ve been their second date. “You drove that one, did you?”
“I did and you will get into the damn car and do whatever you have to do to make this work. I have money, deal with it!” He opened the door for her and helped her to slide into the passenger seat. “By the way, you look fantastic in this car. And you could look at it as you would any work of art. A lot of care and planning went into this awesome machine. You, as an artist, should admire such a thing.”
She sat back and put on her seatbelt as his words sank into her tenacious head. Wealth was a thing she’d grown to hate. Distrust, doubt, and fear filled her when she thought about her father. The first man to ever leave her, and he left her and her poor mother, high and dry.
She had carried his last name. His name was on her birth certificate. Charles Worhl was her father in name only. Once, what seemed so long ago, he’d been more of a father to her.
She’d thought her parents loved one another. Aullie wondered how someone could suddenly change the love in their heart so quickly. She also wondered if she could’ve inherited that terrible trait from her father.
She had to admit to herself that she’d never let anyone get close enough to hurt her. Keeping men at a distance was a dance she was good at. Until Weston came along, that is. Where he was concerned, she was nearly defenseless against the chemistry which surrounded them.
As Weston got into the driver’s seat, she leaned her head on the headrest and gazed at him. He was one beautiful man. A real Adonis. And he wanted her. He wanted her for more than just sex. He really wanted her.
But did Aulora Greene, really Worhl, even know who she was?
“I’m going to grab us something to eat then take you home,” he let her know, using a tone that inferred he wasn’t asking, he was telling her what he was going to do.
No ire ran through her. No incensed emotion pounded at her brain, telling her not to let him tell her what he was going to do. Instead, she felt taken care of and mumbled, “Okay.” She watched a smile move over his plump and recently kissed lips and one found her lips too.
She nibbled on her lower lip, recalling the kiss that went from sweet to intense in record time. His hand moved over her upper thigh as he pulled out of the parking garage. “I suppose you’re pretty excited about having a place to permanently sell your art, Aulora.” His hand drifted back and forth over her dress covered thigh, making little blasts of heat tap at her inner depths.
When a red light had him stopping the car, she leaned forward. Brazenly, she took his handsome face in her hands and kissed him again with warmth and a promise of things to come, later. She eyed him when their mouths parted as the car behind them blasted its horn when the light turned to green. Neither seemed to care too much.
Weston shook his head to clear it, then stepped on the gas. “Aulora, can I take you to my place for the night?”
“I hoped you would.” She ran her hand over his broad shoulder then down to his bicep that bulged, straining the black material of his tux. “Weston, why the tux? You’re a bit over-dressed for such an art exhibit.”
“I told you, I wasn’t there for that. I had another occasion I’d been at where this attire was expected.” His fingertip trailed over her exposed collarbone, making her shiver with the idea of that finger finding every part of her body and soon.
“Care to elaborate?” she asked him as she took his hand and placed his finger in her mouth where she gently sucked it while pulling it back and forth.
When he moaned a bit, she moved her eyes from his gorgeous face to watch the rise in his trousers. It made her feel like a sexual goddess. Something she’d never experienced prior to that night.
“A wedding. A small family thing. My uncle married his fourth wife. I had to go date-free since you refused to talk to me. It would’ve been nice to have you there with me. I know your aversion to money, though. Maybe it wouldn’t have been a very good thing to take you to, anyway.”
“Probably not.” She pulled his wet finger out of her mouth and moved it to stroke the flesh between her breasts.
“Aulora, how much did you have to drink, peach?”
“I lost count.” She pulled his hand back up and ran her tongue over his palm.
“Aulora!” He pulled to the side of the busy street and looked her over. “This isn’t like you.”
She nodded. “You’re right, it’s not. I want to do this, Weston. I want to do it all. I don’t want to scare you off. I really don’t. But I want you. I want all of you. Every last bit. I want to taste every nook and cranny. I want to know your go
rgeous body, intimately and I want you to know mine. I want to get in your head and find out what makes you tick.”
He stared at her in disbelief. Could she really have changed so very much since he’d seen her last? Could she really want to give them a shot?
“Aulora, if you stay with me tonight, there will be nothing but cuddles and maybe a bit of talking. Then off to bed, you’ll go to the guest room while I go to sleep in mine. Tomorrow, when you’re sober, we’ll see if you still feel so free.” He gave her a firm look and moved his hand back to the steering wheel.
“Okay,” she said with a simple statement. “I can wait. And I’ll still have the same thing on my mind. Making this work. Really giving this a try. I’ve never even contemplated doing this with anyone before.”
“You’re a virgin?” he gasped as he looked her over.
A laugh erupted from her. “No! No, of course not. I mean a relationship. God, you’re funny, West.”
“West?” he asked as he pulled back onto the road.
“Yeah, you call me a name no one else does. I want to have a name I can call you. And you’ve called me peach twice.”
“You recall how many times I’ve done that?” he asked as he smiled with the thought.
“I pretty much recall every word you’ve said to me,” she said then put her hand over her mouth. “Damn! It seems champagne is a lot like truth serum.”
“With you, it seems to be. I’ll remember that for the future when I need to get something out of you,” he said with a chuckle.
“The future,” she muttered to herself. “I’ve never had a future with anyone. It’s weird. But a good weird. West, are you sure about this? I mean, I’m a poor, little, art student with an obvious penchant to be introverted and kind of closed off most of the time. And you, well, you’re cool, sexy, smart, funny, and most likely great at having sex. I’m not saying I’m bad at it but I can just tell that you’re great at it. I’m sure to disappoint you.”
“You won’t. And I don’t want you to sell yourself short about anything. You see yourself one way and I see you in this light. When I look at you, I see a gorgeous, yet she’s unaware of the fact, young woman with a talent that’s sure to see her make her dreams come true. If she can let the self-doubt go and see herself for who she truly is.”
The Naughty One: A Doctor’s Christmas Romance (Season of Desire Book 2) Page 73
