Nikki watched him through slitted eyes. "She must be a dog."
"Not at all. What makes you say that?"
"Because you'd already have her number if she wasn't."
"You make me sound very superficial."
"Oh, yes. I forgot. Females of any shape, form or species are fair game to the man who would be the World's Greatest Lover. Is she married?"
"Not as far as I know." Julian frowned. "And watch your mouth."
Nikki strutted to the door. "Julian, luv, regardless of deathbed promises, you're not my father."
"But I am your older brother and I do hold the purse strings." Their father had put Julian in control of the estate, though he had no authority over the trust funds that were released as each sibling reached age twenty-five. Very was going through hers like water.
"Give me some credit," Nikki said. "For once, I'm trying to earn money instead of spend it."
"And I'm proud of you." Julian joined her at the door. He kissed her cheek, relieved that she hadn't noticed how he'd avoided the question about Mia's career. Nikki would find out about the body painting soon enough, but he wanted her to think the potential layout and article were for a fashion magazine, not Hard Candy. "I expect you'll do a fine job."
"Thanks." Nikki hugged him. She'd always been an affectionate girl. Even when she'd sent a strippergram to a board meeting on his birthday, Julian couldn't help forgiving her. He felt the same way about the rest of the aggravating Silk women. If he hadn't cared so much for them, the burden of his father's expectations might be too heavy to contemplate. As it was, Julian managed by telling himself that at least he never doubted that they loved him back, even if they were doing their best to turn him gray before his time.
The next day, Mia was sitting on the top rung of scaffolding in a Riverside Drive
ballroom when Nikki Silk arrived. The Gormans' butler—an honest-to-goodness butler even though he was dressed casually since the owners weren't in residence—announced the visitor with a twinge of annoyance before bowing out, firmly shutting the double doors behind him. Mia made a mental note to thank the old guy for looking after her on his downtime, even if he was only guarding her from stealing the silver.
"Hello?" the visitor called.
Mia switched off the hip-hop music blasting from her portable disk player. "Give me a sec," she bellowed, misjudging her volume. She nudged away the earphones. "I have to finish the gold-leafing while the sizing is tacky."
"That's all right. I can watch."
Mia glanced down at the rookie journalist whose face was turned up toward the ceiling arches. Nikki Silk was young, pretty and dressed like a crackpot Daisy Mae in a flared denim miniskirt, short white leather jacket and ankle boots with teeter-totter heels.
"I guess you're related to Julian?" Mia pounced her horsehair brush on the gold leaf she'd just applied. Small flakes drifted down onto Nikki's hair and face.
"Cool," she said, puffing at one of the snippets of gold. "I'm his sister."
Aha. Interesting. "He sent you here?"
"Well, he gave me the assignment."
"Is he serious?" When Nikki had called yesterday, Mia had felt suspicious enough of Julian's motives to consider denying the interview request. But if the proposed article was legit, the opportunity was too good to pass up.
Nikki put her hands on narrow hips. "Is there something wrong with me?"
"Not you. I meant the article. Is he serious about the article?"
"He'd better be." Nikki cocked a leg and crossed her arms. Her boot tapped the marble floor. "I'll shave his eyebrows while he's sleeping if he's setting me up."
Mia wasn't reassured. "Setting you up? Is that something he does frequently?"
"Not really, but he doesn't take me very seriously."
Mia thought of the women who reportedly dropped in and out of his love life like ducks at a shooting gallery. "What does he take seriously?"
Nikki picked a shred of gold leaf off her lip. "Lots of stuff," she admitted. "If you want to know the truth, he's kind of a bore, working all the time and giving orders. He thinks he's the boss of me, but he's not." She reconsidered. "Except I guess he would be if I get on to the Hard Candy staff."
"Then you're not already?" Definitely a setup, Mia decided as she peeled off another sheet of leafing, carefully laid it on the last bit of ungilded arch and pounced the brush to fill the crevices of the carving. She just couldn't figure out what game Julian was up to.
Nikki's voice rose to the twenty-four-foot domed ceiling. "I might as well confess. This is my first story."
Mia peered through the scaffolding. "We all have to start somewhere."
"Yes, but now that I've met you…" Nikki grew silent as she looked around the ballroom. Even littered with painting tarps, ladders and assorted supplies, it was an amazing room. Tall dove-gray walls were adorned with gilded French-style molding. The stone floor was flecked in gray, black and pink. Sconces and elaborate wall candelabra dripped crystals that matched the immense chandelier, presently shrouded in a protective linen covering.
"What's the problem?" Mia prodded.
"I'm confused. I thought you were involved in fashion, somehow. Julian tried to steer me toward working for a Silk fashion mag…" Nikki shook her head, gesturing at the room. "But you're a—a—"
"Decorative painter. I do a little of everything—trompe l'oeil, gilding, faux effects, murals."
"That's great, but I can't imagine what kind of a fashion layout he's thinking of." Nikki looked up at Mia, her eyes growing wide. One side of her mouth lifted. "Or maybe I can imagine. That dog."
"Really." Mia set aside her brush and the packet of leafing and started to climb down. "You mentioned Hard Candy, so I thought you knew about me."
Nikki stepped away from the rattling scaffolding. "Julian didn't say much at all. He might even have been secretive, now that I think about it."
Mia swung her body down the last few rungs and dropped to the floor. "Why is that?" she asked.
At the same moment Nikki said, "What does Hard Candy have to do with decorative painting?" She frowned. "Or fashion."
Mia studied Julian's sister, who was six or seven inches taller and at least fifteen pounds lighter than herself, reed thin in the way of young girls and anorexic ballerinas. She liked Nikki anyway. The girl had marched in here for an interview despite her lack of experience. There was moxie in those willowy genes. Maybe resilience.
"There's been a mix-up of some sort," Mia said, taking a flier that she could trust Nikki not to run back to her brother and tell all. "We need to share our information."
Nikki nodded. "And get the better of Julian."
"Is he putting one over on me?"
"One of us. Maybe."
"Then let's put our minds together. You start."
"I think…" Nikki looked Mia up and down, taking in the corkscrew curls and splattered canvas apron. "Even though you're not his usual, and he was playing it ultracool with me, he fancies you."
The odd stirring in the pit of her stomach disturbed Mia. Arousal she could identify and take care of. This was more than arousal. "Oh," she said, scoffing at her own reaction, "fancy is way too polite a word for what he feels for me."
"Yes." Nikki laughed. "He wants to frank you."
"Frank me?"
"That's what my girlfriends call it when we're being silly. You know, serve you the foot-long, the pork sausage, the—"
"I get it." Foot-long? If the rumors about Julian Silk's equipment and prowess were true…
Mia corralled her thoughts before they made her dizzy. As attractive and exciting as Julian was, she didn't need the distraction right now. And she really didn't need to be another of his throwaway "dates."
But he could be hers. Fun all the way around.
Mia blinked. Forget about playtime. Consider your career. "So you think he sent you here to gather information on me for his own use, not an article?"
"That's possible," Nikki said. "And it wouldn't be
the first do-nothing task he's set for me—all with good intentions, according to him. When I interned at the family company one summer, Julian actually assigned another intern to shadow me and keep me out of trouble." The girl smirked. "Didn't work, of course."
"I'll bet." Mia almost pitied Julian the responsibility of looking after Nikki. Not that he deserved any lenience, since it appeared he gave as good as he got.
"I suppose you're right—he's playing us both." She flapped gold flecks off her apron. "Damn. My career could have used the boost of publicity."
Nikki swung from side to side as she gestured at the glorious ballroom. To have such a space in Manhattan was the epitome of luxury. "You seem to be doing fine without the publicity."
"Ah, but that's where my explanation comes in." Mia lifted the apron off and laid it over a rung of the scaffolding. "I'm not only a decorative painter, though that's been my bread and butter. My true calling is body painting."
"Body painting?" Nikki's penciled brows made twin Arcs de Triomphe. "Is that a career?"
"Not for many. But I'm getting there. I've painted for parties, for galleries, and the past year I've gotten several advertising jobs that have drawn attention in the media and in the trade."
"Like what? Oh, wait a mo." Nikki dug through a denim shoulder pack until she withdrew a micro-recorder. She fiddled around, rewinding the tape and testing one-two-three before she was satisfied. She held it out and clicked a button. "What advertising work have you done?"
Mia opened her mouth, but Nikki made a quick dive at the recorder. "I'm talking to Mia Kerrigan, body painter." She held it out again. "Go."
"There were a few small print ads, but my most well-known work so far was for the Living Color cosmetics campaign."
"I know that one!" Nikki squealed. "Finally my clandestine subscription to Elle pays off. You're talking about the ads where the models were painted in makeup colors…?"
"Yes, to reflect the product names. For the River of Color line, I painted several models like a rushing river and we photographed them lying head to toe among rocks and rushes."
"The peach!" Nikki spoke into the recorder. "Tell about the peach."
Mia grinned. "The peach caused a minor sensation. That was for their Peachy Keen blush and lipstick. A few magazines banned the ads and the company was delighted. The brouhaha over censorship gained them tons of free publicity."
"All because the peach was really an ass, right?"
"Well, yes." She'd painted Angelika's derriere so skillfully it had looked absolutely authentic when photographed close up with extraneous body parts cropped out. The resulting ad had been beautiful and luscious, but fairly unremarkable. The kicker had been when the reader turned the page to a similar photo of Angelika's outthrust bottom with a male model poised to take a bite, one hand squeezing the sensuous curves of the "peach."
Mia brought Nikki over to one of the window seats that overlooked the street and told her about doing the Living Color ads and how that had led to a certain notoriety. She spoke about the art pieces she painted and photographed on her own time, for her own pleasure, but also how she was building a body-painting portfolio. Her ultimate goal was to win the gold medal at the upcoming International Expo and have a gallery show.
Nikki proved to be less scatterbrained than she first appeared. She paid attention to the details and asked smart questions. The only area that Mia glossed over was her family background. Her parents had requested anonymity long ago, but it still hurt a bit to be reminded that they were ashamed of her ventures.
After a while, the butler came back and looked inside. "Still here? I suppose you'll be wanting refreshments."
"Oh, no, that's not necessary, thanks." The butler flustered Mia. He was too posh for her blood, even when he was practically off duty. While her parents' wealth was fairly impressive, it was never ostentatious. She came from good Puritan stock, where parsimony and modesty had ruled for generations.
Nikki, however, had no problem giving the butler orders. "Actually, I'm parched. Fetch me a Perrier and lime, will you, luv?"
"I should be getting back to work," Mia said.
Nikki checked the recorder. "You haven't explained about the Hard Candy connection yet."
"I recently completed a body-painting assignment for the magazine's cover." She described the edible woman theme and how she'd achieved the look. "Julian was there, and that's when he mentioned a 'fashion' layout, with the models wearing only my paint. It's odd that he didn't tell you."
"Not that odd. He didn't come right out and say so, but I know my brother. He doesn't want me to work at Hard Candy."
"Why not? Is he like WC. Fields?"
"Huh?"
"Thinking you're too good to work for your own— Oh, never mind."
"It's simple, really, but devious of him. He said you'd be featured in a fashion layout, but not what kind. Obviously because he didn't want me getting in at Hard Candy. The magazine is pure sex. Even the offices are pretty well testosterone saturated, and my brother is so overprotective," explained Nikki. "Or he tries to be. I usually don't let him, except when he gets this weary expression and I start to feel sorry for him, because he does have to deal with the three of us and even I can imagine what a headache that is."
"Three sisters," Mia said, remembering the bachelor bio.
"There's me, Very and Lis. Since our dad died, Julian feels responsible for us. He's really very patient and loving. We all know we can count on him, no matter what kind of trouble we're in."
Mia's respect for Julian increased. She didn't need actual feelings complicating the matter, but there they were.
Nikki made a choking sound. "Ick, how sappy! I'm forgetting that Jules tried to mislead us about the article. But I'll show him." She clicked off the recorder. "I believe you'd make a fabulous feature article, Mia. My brother might interfere, but somehow, someway, I'm going to get us both into Hard Candy."
She shoved the recorder into her pack and stood, throwing out her chin. "Julian can go suck a lemon drop."
The image made Mia smile, especially since she already knew what Julian tasted like when flavored with candy.
She rose, shaking her head. "I'm not so sure that's smart, Nikki."
"You said you could use the publicity."
"Sure. But I don't want to cause trouble—"
"You don't?" Nikki looked astonished, as if the thought of keeping peace had never occurred to her. "Oh, come on! Julian is just begging for trouble."
"He's powerful," Mia said. Could hire me and fire me a hundred times over.
"But kind."
"Arrogant." And deserves to be hoisted on his own petard.
"Not cruel, though."
"He's also dangerously attractive." You can say that again.
"Pah." Nikki's eyes narrowed. "You can resist."
Someone has to, Mia thought. But why me?
"You won't have to do anything but keep your mouth closed," Nikki said. "I'll turn in the background info to Julian like an obedient little airhead, and he'll think I'm none the wiser that the fashion spread—if there really is one—was meant for Hard Candy. Meanwhile, I'll get started on an article. I can pitch it to the magazine even if Julian doesn't follow through. If you hear from him, play dumb. Remember, it's possible that he's only interested in getting into your—" Nikki's lashes dropped to Mia's lower half "—painter's pants."
"So it's true that he's had a lot of … relationships?" Mia said, even though she was slightly uncomfortable talking about Julian's love life with his sister. Nikki didn't seem bothered at all—she was as open as a book of the Kama Sutra.
"I don't get to actually see him in operation because he's discreet, but the way I hear it, he's so smooth, most girls slide into bed without a struggle. Then they slide right out just as fast."
"He doesn't ever get serious?"
"Not as far as I know." Nikki shrugged. "He never brings them home to meet family. I'm not sure why, except that he's a stickler for doing things th
e right way, especially since he got put in charge of the family business. Maybe none of the women are good enough to make the cut?"
Mia was intrigued. And somewhat intimidated. She wanted to know more, but the butler returned, carrying a tray with tall glasses of Perrier on the rocks.
Nikki met him halfway into the room. "A tall cool one," she said, sassily eyeing the reserved butler.
He nodded. "As requested, miss."
The young woman picked up the glass, tilted her head back and drank down the entire contents, her long, elegant neck showing each big swallow. She plunked the glass back on the tray with a click of ice cubes.
"See ya, Mia." Nikki let out a girlish giggle, snatched the lime slice off the edge of the glass and sashayed out the door with her lips puckered into a moue around it.
For a moment, Mia sympathized with Julian for being stuck trying to control such a handful. Even the stony butler looked dazed by the spectacle that was Nikki Silk.
* * *
4
Julian had thought that getting into Mia's apartment building would be difficult—if she was serious about rejecting him and not just playing coy. As with many of the challenges in his life, the task turned out to be easy.
He simply followed the argyle sock.
The argyle sock was standing on the stoop smoking a cigarette. Certain that a bald man painted plaid from neck to toe had to be one of Mia's models, Julian approached. The guy tossed the butt, making a motion to stub it out before realizing he was wearing only paper booties.
Julian ground the butt under the leather sole of his wingtips. "Going in?"
"I am," Argyle said, shuddering inside a flimsy unbelted kimono. "I'm catching a chill, and so is my snookums." He chirped and patted his thigh. For a moment Julian was worried that he was about to be introduced to a body part he didn't care to meet, but then an ugly pinkish cat peeped out from a pot of shrubbery in the corner.
TASTE ME Page 4
