I Think I Love You!

by Kathryn Shay

  The glances the girls exchanged worried her. “What?”

  Mari said, “You have to tell the Parkers beforehand.”

  “Why?”

  “Can you imagine how embarrassed they’ll be if they find out in such a public manner?”

  “Can you trust them to keep it quiet until opening night?” Calla asked.

  “I hadn’t thought about this.”

  Lexy said, “Beware, honey. Ryder got put in a position where he revealed our identity to his father and the man used it in publicity.”

  “I can trust Blake. I’m sure I can’t trust his father.”

  “Then it’s a dilemma.”

  Raven said, “And I have another one.”

  “What do you mean?” Brie asked.

  Though she fought it, Raven felt tears fill her eyes.

  “Oh, my God!” This from Frankie.

  Brie gasped. “You hardly ever cry!”

  “Sweetie, what happened to you?” Lexy asked.

  Mari leaned over and took Raven’s hand.

  “You’re in love with Blake,” Evvie offered.

  Raven’s brows skyrocketed. “No!”

  “But you have feelings for him.” Though her demeanor was pleasant, Evvie never allowed anyone to bully her.

  “All right! I do. He’s an autocratic, uptight jerk. Who kissed the living daylights out of me. And I wanted to ravish him right there in the foyer...”

  “Man, I’m glad I didn’t walk in on that!” Mari quipped.

  “You walked in on them kissing?” someone asked.

  “I did and it was a doozy.”

  Chapter 7

  At the pre-opening reception, the critics poured in along with the press and some other VIPs. Standing in the first section, Blake waited for his parents, Audrey and her father to arrive. He sipped champagne and watched Raven schmooze with the people who would judge her work. Right now she stood in front of Silenced as Pierce Bennett gestured to the painting. He was the frontrunner in the world of art critics, and Blake smiled at the fact that he was probably explaining her painting to her.

  Blake himself couldn’t take his eyes off her. She’d surprised him when she’d walked into the gallery tonight. She wore a two-piece suit in bright red, with beautifully tailored pants, and a jacket that had a pink top peeking out. She’d matched the outfit with the same colored heels that weren’t too high. Her hair was in a soft top knot, with tendrils curling around her face. A face which, when she’d gotten close up, sported light makeup that made her eyes seem huge and her mouth sultry. A diamond necklace graced her throat.

  He wondered briefly if a man had given it to her. To say he was still having issues with his feelings for her was an understatement.

  When they set up the lighting, she’d been pleasant and cooperative. Blasdell flirted with her the whole time, and Blake had to leave the room once when he found himself pouting. She was driving him crazy.

  “Hello, son.” His father had come up beside him, with Audrey in tow.

  She kissed his cheek. “Hello, darling. Sorry, but my father was having a bad night.”

  “How are things here?” Blake Sr. asked.

  “I have no idea. No one’s said anything to me either way. They all seem to be flocking around Ravenna.”

  “Her outfit’s blinding. She could have toned it down some.” Audrey, in a navy dress with pink piping, was apparently going to be a snob tonight.

  “You’re right, dear,” his father said. “She doesn’t have a lot of sophistication, I’d guess.”

  “I think she looks lovely. If you’ll excuse me, she’s motioning to me.” Blake strode across the room, away from the Raven-bashing.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Bennett?” he asked when he reached her and the critic.

  “Very much so.”

  “Peter was telling me that Silenced reminds him of Edmund Munch’s The Scream.”

  Blake glanced at the painting he’d studied a thousand times.

  Raven asked, “You see the thick black dot in center as the oval mouth in Munch’s work, right?”

  “I do. But Ravenna won’t say if it was intentional.”

  “I just paint them, you interpret them.”

  Bennett laughed. “I suppose.” He held out his arm and said, “Are you ready to escort me to the other paintings in this section?”

  “Can she catch up with you in a bit?” Blake asked. “I need to run something pressing by her.”

  “Of course. Don’t dally,” he said, and walked away.

  “Thanks.” She touched Blake’s arm, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “He’s a bit tiring.”

  “A bit? He’s monopolizing your time. We’ll have to find a way to stop that.”

  “Without angering him.”

  “I think I know how to do it.” He smiled at her. “You seem more relaxed than when you came in.”

  “It’s all over but the shoutin’, Blake.”

  “That it is.” He squeezed her hand which still rested on his arm. Left his there. “The feel of the room is positive, though, don’t you think?”

  “I do. And there’s a lot of talk.”

  “All wonderful comments, I’m sure.” He sighed. “Go placate Bennett. I’ll head him off before you go to the next section.”

  “Thanks.” She leaned in closer. “You’re a sweet guy when you’re being nice.”

  Still feeling the imprint of her hand on his arm, he circulated, and as he headed to free up Raven, Audrey waylaid him. “Wait up, Blake.”

  He turned and tried to hide his annoyance.

  “I haven’t had a minute with you.”

  “I told you I’d be busy.” For some reason, he asked, “So, what do you think of the show?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand her work.”

  “You have to stand in front of it and let the painting make you feel.”

  “Feel? As in emotions?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I don’t want art to make me feel anything but pleasure in its existence.”

  “I can see that’s true.”

  She ignored the criticism in his tone. “When can you get out of here?”

  “I don’t plan to leave any time soon. After the show ends at ten, I want to make a round of the works, check to see everything’s intact.”

  “Can’t the staff do that?”

  “No, Audrey, they can’t!” His impatience seeped over, but he didn’t care.

  “Will you come to my place any time tonight?”

  “I’m afraid I won’t.”

  “Why?”

  “You don’t understand, do you? This show is a big deal for me. I won’t be available much. I thought you understood that.”

  In a haughty tone that she reserved for servants, she said, “I did not. However, I do now.” Turning, she walked away.

  He let her go. Damn her for putting herself first in all this. Shaking off the irritation, he strode to Raven. “All right, Bennett,” he said in a jocular tone. “You’ve had her for one whole room. The other critics are complaining. They want to talk to her.”

  “I guess I have.” He patted Raven’s arm. “Good job, dear.”

  When he left, Blake put his hand on her back to move her along. And so he could be closer to her. “Was that good?” she asked in a whisper.

  “I think so.”

  “Listen,” she said in an odd tone before they got to the second section. “Do you think you can carve out some time after the show for me before you leave? I have something to tell you.”

  “Sure. You all right?”

  “Of course.” She leaned into him, but he had the feeling the gesture was unconscious. “I need to talk to you.”

  Blake circulated the rest of the night while the other guests took turns with the star. By ten, when the show ended, he could see the exhaustion on her face. The tension of the evening had made his neck muscles tight, and he rolled his shoulders to lessen it.

  As the waiters began
to clean up, he stood at the door bidding the last of the crowd goodbye. He didn’t know when his parents and Audrey had left.

  He saw Raven coming toward him—without her usual cocky swagger. Alarm bells went off in his head. “Well!” she said.

  “Yes, well!”

  “I...feel optimistic about their reaction.”

  “I do too, Raven. The reviews will be up by morning.”

  “No sleep for me, I guess.”

  Thomas, who was in charge of the wait staff, approached them. “We have everything cleaned, Dr. Parker. My people went out the back way.”

  “So the place is empty?” Raven asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” A smile quirked his lips. “I heard many good things tonight.”

  Pleasure suffused her face. “Thank you for telling me that, Thomas.”

  When they were alone, Blake said, “I’ll make one sweep through the wing to be sure there’s no lingerers. Then we can talk in my office.”

  “No, if we’re alone, I’d like to sit in here.” She gestured to the first section.

  He took hold of her hand. Held it tight. “There is something wrong, isn’t there?”

  “Not wrong. Important.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  His heart beat at a clip as he checked each section and found the new wing empty. The main gallery had been closed all night, so he locked the door to the wing. He returned and saw her sitting on the curved bench. Her posture was stiff, probably from the stress of the event. She had a lot riding on this night. Crossing to her, he took a seat next to her.

  She turned to him. “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

  He blurted out, “Dear Lord, you’re not married, are you?”

  “What? No. I...I told you I was from Southern Italy. I was actually born on an island off the coast.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a big deal.”

  “My birthplace, Casarina, is a sovereign state.”

  “Still. What are you telling me?”

  “My father is king of that sovereign state. Of Casarina. Where I come from.”

  “Did you say king?”

  “I did.”

  Awareness wended its way into his brain. “That makes you—and your six sisters—all princesses.”

  “Yes, Blake. We’re all princesses.”

  Shocked, his body literally recoiled from hers.

  * * *

  Raven saw him try to control his anger. He had the right to be furious, for a myriad of reasons.

  Next to her, his fists curled, he asked, “And you didn’t tell me before now. Why?”

  “Because I didn’t want the show to succeed because of who I am. Being a princess is a tiny part of my life. And no part of my talent.”

  “It would have assured the success of your show. Of the gallery’s new wing.”

  “I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

  “I see.”

  “Please, don’t be mad about that.”

  He linked his hands between his knees but didn’t look at her. “I’m angry because you didn’t tell me. That you didn’t trust me enough to keep your background private.”

  “I didn’t know you, Blake. How could I be sure of that?”

  “Obviously, you trust me enough to tell me now.”

  “I do, but that wasn’t why I told you. My parents are coming tomorrow night. Someone’s bound to recognize them.”

  “Will they wear crowns?”

  “Very funny. They’ll be impeccably dressed. As will their bodyguards.”

  “Bodyguards?”

  “Of course. And, um, the president wants to attend the show.”

  “The president of what?”

  “Of the U.S. He and my father went to college together for a while.”

  Glancing away again, he shook his head. “I can’t take this in.”

  “I know it’s hard.”

  “Hard? This is a fucking shock.”

  She’d never heard him swear so blatantly. “I’m sure you can’t, Blake. But you had to know before the opening. It’s all right if my background gets out now.”

  “It’s all right?”

  “Yes. And it’ll still be a real lure for the gallery.”

  “For the gallery?” Turning to her on the seat, his face flushed even more than before and he grabbed her arms. “What about me, Raven?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “You know what’s been happening between us.”

  “This doesn’t affect that.”

  His grip tightened on her. “The hell it doesn’t.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You’re hurt? I thought you’d be mad. But you’re hurt. Blake, I never meant to do that.” She moved in close. Looped her arms around his neck. Her nearness, the sinful perfume she wore filled his head. “Please forgive me for that.”

  For a long time, he just looked at her.

  Then he lowered his head.

  The kiss exploded between them.

  * * *

  His mouth claimed hers. He pressed hard...then harder. He opened her lips and explored her. The carnal invasion zinged down to her toes. Pull back, she told herself, but her body clung to him. His neck was damp where she clasped it. His muscles were hard against her. She gripped him tighter, got closer, entwined her legs with his. His hands lowered to her bottom, squeezed tight and hiked her up for better access. She circled her legs around his waist; their lower bodies fit. Perfectly. They ground together.

  When the sensation wasn’t enough, she eased to the ground, and he drew back gasping. She grabbed for his shirt, but he batted her hands away. “Me, first,” he growled.

  He yanked her jacket off and she lifted her arms. After pulling the shell over her head, he tossed it away then added, “You’re a witch” in reaction, she guessed to her underwire red bra. “Why bother?” he grumbled and buried his face in the swell between her breasts. She clung to his head. Through the satin, he took a nipple between his teeth and bit her gently. The gesture made her wet and she lurched forward.

  Blake was lost in her. The feel of silky skin. The crush of flesh against his cheek. He moaned when she pulled way. “What are you doing?”

  “Take off your clothes. Hurry.”

  “You too. The rest of them.”

  With a snap of her feet, she kicked off her heels, pushed her pants past them, this time revealing a scrap of red lace.

  “Fuck, Raven.” He yanked on her panties and the rip echoed through the room. He disposed of the sinful bra.

  He flung off his suitcoat while she got his tie undone and unbuttoned his shirt, sending two fasteners flying. She fumbled with his belt, so badly he batted her away again, got it open then pulled down his pants and blue briefs at the same time. “Damn it.” He dropped down, pulled a condom out of his trousers and sheathed himself. Still on the bench, he kicked off his shoes then rid himself of the rest of his clothes.

  “Ah...” she said when she saw he’d freed himself, sheathed himself to protect her. Since he was seated, she straddled him.

  He lowered his hand and cupped her.

  “No, don’t, I’m ready.”

  Again, he buried his face in her breasts as he helped lift her up. Slowly he impaled her on him.

  Had anything ever felt like this? Raven thought as he filled her. He was rock-hard but she accepted him like they were Adam and Eve.

  “Raven...”

  “Blake.”

  She moved. Up and down.

  Up and...oh my God, she gripped his shoulders as he thrust and thrust. She went off like a rocket. Slices of desire shot through her and she stopped thinking.

  She’d come fast and hard, Blake thought. So befitting her. He let her settle down some before he began again. Her insides clenched around him in just the right way until his own climax hit. He pushed and pushed and pushed, then went off until she’d wrung out every bit of him.

  * * *

  Raven awoke on her side, chilled. She grabbed for her blanket, but it wasn’t there. Her h
and pressed against the bed, or whatever she lay on—it felt like pillows. She sniffed. The faint scent of paint. As the moon peered in through the windows somewhere, she turned over. And saw Blake next to her, on a bed of cushions that must be from the benches. What had she done?

  Panic flushed her body with heat—and also immobilized her. For a moment, visions of entwined naked bodies and the moans of satisfaction whipped through her head. They’d made love, more than once.

  When she could, she sat up. She looked around. A pile of clothes lay half-draped on the bench of the red section; half had fallen to the floor. She managed to crawl over, pick them up, sit down and slide on the ruined silk pants. She walked a few feet over and found the pink shell on the floor and the jacket snagged on the end of Silenced. Visions assaulted her—his hard body against her, how he’d bucked inside her until she thought she’d die. She felt the imprint of him all over again.

  Caught on another bench were her bra and red panties, which were ripped. She stuffed them in her pocket. Shoes, she needed her shoes. She found one near the window, another tucked under a second bench. His shoes were a few feet away. The thud as he kicked them off echoed in her mind.

  She needed her coat and purse because it had her keys. She donned her heels when she reached the hallway and saw the coatroom down the hall. Thankfully, it wasn’t locked. The hanger jingled as she slid off her red coat and shrugged into it. Her hand found her keys. Gripping them, she made it to the door and fumbled with the inside lock. It was loud, and she was afraid it would wake—

  A hand slammed against the heavy wood and she was trapped by his body behind her. “Not so fast.”

  “I...” The word came out like a croak. She cleared her throat. “I have to leave.”

  His talented lips that had trailed all over her body whispered in her ear, “That’s not what you said last night.”

  She remembered. He’d been furious about her confession, mostly because she hadn’t trusted him before tonight with the information on her real background. His oddly colored green eyes pierced the armor she’d so carefully built around herself.

  She tried again. “Blake, please let me go.”