Striding up to the bar and ordering a scotch, I did my best to ignore the looks I was getting from many of the women in the room. There was a time I would have met their stares with my own, perhaps deciding, long before the evening was over, which one would accompany me to a hotel when the event was over. But those days were past me, and now there was only one set of eyes I longed to meet and have their approval. I made my way back over to where my image was on display, playing the part required: answering questions, feigning interest in their comments about the piece. There was only one opinion I cared about.
Then she walked into the room—a vision in a deep green dress that swirled around her legs, showing off her shapely calves. Her hair was swept up off her neck, curls escaping around her face.
I knew what that hair felt like wrapped in my fist. How her neck tasted under my tongue and how those legs felt wrapped around me. I wanted to feel it all again.
She was alone, her parents already present. They had stopped briefly, offering fake interest as they looked at the photo, their expressions blank. They had no idea what they were looking at. One of the committee was standing with me and introduced me. I was offered a cool handshake and an even cooler smile. It was only the fact the committee member droned on about my success and generosity that I was deemed passable enough for polite conversation. Because they were told I was important, I became such in their eyes.
I met their impassive gazes with one of my own: acknowledged the praise with a tilt of my head, as if it was my just due. Stood tall and proud in my designer suit and expensive watch, both which spoke of the only thing they understood: money.
I answered their inane questions with a wealth of technical phrases I knew they wouldn’t understand. Smirked arrogantly as other people came forward, crowding around the piece, listening to their words.
Erotic.
Stimulating.
A masterpiece.
I accepted them all.
Because with Ally in the picture, they were all correct. But it was she who made it that way. Their praise was for her—they simply didn’t know it.
I narrowed my eyes as Bradley appeared behind Ally, wrapping his hand around her elbow. I felt a simmering anger in my chest.
No one should be touching her but me.
Someone approached them and Ally turned, greeting an older woman I recognized as Elena. They began to talk, and Bradley moved away and grabbed a drink from the bar. As he approached I tensed up, wanting to reach out and punch him. There was no reason to, aside from the fact I wanted to feel his flesh give way under my fist. Instead, I observed him in silence as he looked at the picture, congratulating myself on my restraint.
“Interesting,” he commented. “Not my cup of tea.”
I smirked. The idiot had no idea. “No?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I’m not much for…art.”
I nodded, keeping my face blank.
He took another pull on his drink. “Good of you to donate it, though.”
“It’s a good cause.”
“It is.” He stuck his hand out, surprising me. “Dr. Bradley Bennett. I’m part of the committee for the event.”
For a brief second I looked at his hand and then clasped it in mine, giving it a firm shake. I could be generous. After all, Ally was mine now. “Adam Kincaid.”
“Thank you for this.”
“I hope it does well.”
He tilted his head and moved on.
I drained my glass and set it on the table close to me. Then I heard a small gasp I’d know anywhere, and slowly turned to face Ally.
Up close she was more beautiful than ever. But her tired eyes were wide and confused, her gaze bouncing between me and the picture. Standing beside her, Elena took us in, her steady gaze shrewd. She tilted her head, studying the image, then she smirked and brushed a kiss to Ally’s cheek.
“I’m going to the table. These old legs need to sit down. I’ll see you after dinner, child.” Then she looked at me. “I understand you’re at my table, Mr. Kincaid. You’ll sit beside me.”
It was a command, not a request.
“My pleasure, ma’am,” I murmured, not taking my eyes off Ally.
She chuckled and swept away. “We’ll see about that, boy.”
My lips quirked at her tone and the name she’d bestowed on me.
My Nightingale looked at me and then again at the picture. I wanted to pull her in my arms and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. I needed to touch her, but I knew I couldn’t.
“No one knows it’s you. I promise.”
“Elena knew…I know.”
“Are you angry?”
“I’m overwhelmed.” Her hand gestured toward the image. “When?”
I inched closer. “After you left for brunch.”
Her fathomless eyes met mine, her exhaustion making them green in the dim light. “Why, Adam? Why are you here?”
“I wanted to be here tonight. Be close to you.” Unable to resist, I flicked my fingers out, touching her wrist. “I was afraid if I told you, you’d tell me not to come.”
She moved, seemingly to get closer to the photo. I startled when her fingers slipped into my hand, squeezing tight before withdrawing. “Thank you.”
“You’re so beautiful.”
She offered me a smile—a warm one filled with her light. “You clean up well, Mr. Kincaid.”
“Your dress is lovely. It looks spectacular on you.” I lowered my voice. “It’s going to look even better on the floor beside our bed.”
Her hand flew to her neck where my nightingale pendant rested. “Adam—” she breathed out.
“I need you alone.”
“You’ll have it later.”
“I’m not sure I’ll last until then.”
“Try, Adam,” she teased. “It’s only a few hours. At least make it through dinner.”
I smirked. “I’ll try.”
“I’d hate to see this work of art not get auctioned off if you misbehaved and got dragged out.”
“Do you hate it?” I asked, indicating the photo.
“No.” She shook her head. “I think it’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I wish I could afford to buy it.”
“I might be able to help with that.”
She hummed. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”
Bradley appeared suddenly, and she took a step back. He looked between us and only then did I realize how close we were standing. I moved back, as well.
“Alexandra, we need to move to our table.”
She smiled at me. “Thank you again for your explanation. Your photo is mesmerizing.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Robbins.” I returned her smile. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“I will.”
I watched her walk away, moving in front of Bradley so he didn’t touch her.
Then I dragged in a deep breath of air.
It was the last time she’d have to walk without me.
Chapter 11
Dinner was a cat-and-mouse game with Elena. Ally was correct when she’d stated Elena would preside over the table. The old woman was a powerhouse—shrewd, sharp, and blunt. She was also catty and snarky when she felt like it—which, it seemed, was a lot this evening. Her jibes were laced with the sweetest of smiles, her sharp words spiked with kindness. She didn’t suffer fools easily, and this table was full of them.
I liked her a lot.
My view of Ally was perfect. More than once our gazes met, lingering far too long, and I had to tear my glance away. More than once Elena caught my stare.
I tuned out a great deal of the conversation, covertly making sure Bradley didn’t get too handsy and Ally wasn’t picked on by her mother every moment. She was stuck between them again, but tonight she didn’t seem as drawn in on herself. Her shoulders were back, the light glinting off her pendant. Her face was almost serene, and I knew I’d made the right decision coming here. She needed me as much as I needed her.
Elena clea
red her throat, and I realized I’d been staring far too long at Ally. She shifted in her chair, turning to face me. Most of our table had gotten up to look over the auction items one last time.
She regarded me shrewdly and leaned close. “I know who you are, boy.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Do you now?”
She was direct. “You’re the reason Alexandra is glowing this evening.”
“You think?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t want to take credit for making her happy?”
My expression gave me away. “It’s Ally’s news to share.”
“Ally?” She chuckled. “That’s going to go over well with Sarah and Ronald. They dislike nicknames.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t much give a fuck about Sarah and Ronald.”
She surprised me by clapping her hands in delight. “Oh, I’m going to like you, boy.”
I smiled—the first real one of the night I’d bestowed other than to Ally. “That’s a good thing. I’m already fond of you.”
She pursed her lips. “You’re older than she is.”
“Eight years isn’t a lot.”
“I think you’ve crammed a lot of living into those years.” With a sly grin, she ruffled my hair. “I see the evidence here.”
“Ally should be grateful I don’t take after my father. He was as bald as a billiard ball at thirty. I can live with some silver.”
“It suits you.”
I winked at her teasing. “Like what you see, woman?”
She sniffed and turned her head, but her lips curled into a grin.
“That’s a rather risqué picture you’ve donated.”
“It’s a work of art. Something I created.”
She shook her head impatiently. “Alexandra has spent many afternoons in my pool.” This time it was her eyebrow that arched knowingly. “I recognize those freckles.”
A grin broke out on my face. “Enchanting, aren’t they?”
“You made a huge mistake, though.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Someone is going to walk out of here with that picture. That lovely, enchanting picture—the subject, who obviously means so much to you.” She narrowed her eyes. “And you have to sign it for them, I believe.”
I lifted her hand and brushed a kiss along the paper-thin skin. “Madame, you underestimate me.”
She shrugged as people returned to their seats to start the bidding. “We’ll see, boy. We’ll see.”
—
I watched the action around me during the auction. Most of the items hit high numbers, but I knew mine would blow them all out of the water. I didn’t like everyone ogling the image of Ally on my photograph; I knew they had no idea who it was, but it didn’t matter. No one would ever see it again after tonight.
Except me.
My item came up for auction and I sat back, relaxed. Her parents had walked past it, barely sparing it a glance. Bradley had looked at it, not knowing what he saw, proving to me he didn’t know her intimately at all. Ally had stared, her eyes wide, shocked. She knew.
And the brilliant, all-knowing Elena knew.
The bidding started at five thousand. It jumped to ten fast. I remained relaxed as it continued to escalate. When it hit twenty-five thousand, I smiled benignly and sipped my scotch.
“I hope you’re ready to sign your name soon.” Elena frowned.
“Not a problem.”
Thirty.
Forty.
I tapped one word on my phone.
Now.
“One hundred thousand!” a voice shouted from across the room.
There were gasps of disbelief, a round of applause, and just like that, it was done.
Elena shook her head, then grinned. “You are good,” she mused.
I snickered into my glass. Thanks to my business manager, John Reynolds, I had bought my own piece.
“She’s so worth it.”
She sighed and offered me a smile. A rich, honest smile.
“Finally,” she murmured. “She finally has someone real.”
I nodded. “She has. And no matter what anyone else thinks, I’m here to stay.”
“I like you, boy. I want you to come for tea.”
“Make it coffee and scotch, and I’ll bring the scotch.”
She laughed, a loud boisterous sound in the quiet hum of the room.
“Soon,” she insisted.
“Done.”
After the last few auction items were sold, people began to mill around. I stood, once again kissing Elena’s hand. “I’m going to go and mingle. I look forward to coffee.”
Her gaze drifted over the table where Ally sat with Bradley and her parents. “Watch yourself, boy. They bite.”
I took off my jacket, hanging it over the back of my chair. Slowly I rolled up my sleeves, exposing my ink-covered forearms. I grinned down at her as I flexed my muscles. “So do I.”
She eyed my arms, her eyebrows high and her eyes glowing. One shaky finger trailed along a long black line of ink. “My husband had a tattoo. I found rather…sexy.”
“Really.”
She winked at me, her expression saucy. I could imagine her in her youth, mischievous and bright with life.
“It was in a more, ah, private place. Only he and I ever saw it.”
I winked back. “Scandalous.”
“It was. And I saw it—a lot.” She indicated the table I was anxious to visit. “Go get ’em.”
Smoothly, I moved through the crowd, accepting some handshakes and explaining to a few people that, no, I didn’t do private photo sessions for portraits. I managed to keep my temper until I got to the table and saw Ally. She was still stuck between her mother and Bradley and they were talking. I wasn’t sure if it was at her or to her, but she was now uncomfortable, her hands twisting together on the table. I straightened my shoulders and stepped forward.
“Ally.”
Three sets of eyes met my gaze. Two displeased, and one startled, soft, and so blue I wanted to drown in them.
“Adam,” she breathed out.
Bradley stood, his hand on her shoulder. It took all my inner strength not to knock it off and tell him to keep his fucking hands off my girl.
Ally reached up, brushing away his grip.
“Can we help you?” Sarah demanded, her cold eyes widening as they took in the artwork now displayed on my arms. Disapproval colored her tone.
“Mother, this is Adam Kincaid. He contributed the piece that fetched such a large donation. He’s very well known.”
“Ah. Yes. We met earlier. It was an interesting piece.”
I tilted my head in acknowledgment of her “praise.”
“I had an exceptional muse.”
Ally’s cheeks colored and her eyes glowed.
“I was wondering if I might borrow Ally for a moment.”
“Her name is Alexandra,” Bradley spoke up, frowning.
“And how do you know my daughter, Mr. Kincaid?”
“I was fortunate enough to meet her after a small work-related mishap. She took very good care of me.” I gave Ally a huge grin before turning back to her mother. “When I heard about the benefit for the children’s ward, I remembered her kindness and wanted to give back. You must be so proud of your daughter, Mrs. Givens. Such a caring, gifted nurse and a truly remarkable woman.”
She cleared her throat, her disdain of my opinion evident. “Yes, of course.”
Ronald appeared, a drink in hand, and I reintroduced myself, shaking his hand firmly and meeting his eyes. I wasn’t going to back down in front of these people. Ally needed to know I was there for her.
“I’ve seen your work,” he acknowledged grudgingly. “You’re very good I hear. Several of the men at the bar were discussing your last shoot in the Amazon.”
“I hold my own.”
He eyed my arms distastefully. “Dangerous work. Almost reckless.”
His tone said the word he didn’t speak: unacceptable.
“I’m careful.” I glanced in Ally’s direction. “I get into far more trouble close to home. Thank God for nurses with a healing touch. It’ll come in handy if I have an accident with my bike.”
Sarah’s voice became more displeased. “You drive a motorcycle?”
“When weather permits.”
She eyed me in silence and I watched as I was effectively dismissed. Without the cover of the suit and the safe veneer of respectability surrounding me, she saw me for what I was—at least in her eyes.
I was everything they wouldn’t tolerate: free, reckless, blunt, open, strong, covered in ink—with a motorcycle waiting to whisk Ally away—making me dangerous, as well, and rich or not, I was not acceptable.
Nor was I afraid of them.
Bradley made a displeased noise, then turned and stomped over to the nearest bar. Ally tensed as her mother spoke up. “How long have you been acquaintances?”
“Oh, that’s not the word I’d use, Mrs. Givens.” I assured her. “But I plan on getting to know her much better now.”
Her voice was like ice. “I see.”
I held out my hand. “Will you walk with me, Ally?”
She gazed at me as my eyes beseeched her to accept. She could refuse and convince her parents I was some crazy artist she had no interest in. She could be polite and turn me away in a gentle manner.
Or she could be brave and let me claim her. Leave this table and the judgment they had laid on her so many years ago, and come with me, knowing she’d never be subjected to that again in her life.
She stood, clutching her small bag. “Good evening, Mother.”
Sarah didn’t move, but her lips thinned out in warning.
Ally slipped her hand in mine, allowing me to pull her closer. I dipped my head in victory. “Have a pleasant evening.”
Elena smirked as we went by.
My Image of You Page 12
