Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36890 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
“Wow,” Kerrigan breathed. “I love his work. It’s so colorful and richly textured.”
“The artist was originally from the Caribbean,” Everard told her as he moved to stand at her side. “Some of his work blends the themes and images of both New York and the country of his birth. I tend to lean toward more traditional art, but even I have been tempted by pieces that bring nostalgia by using cartoon and comic characters.”
“You?” I teased. “I can’t imagine seeing a $120,000 painting with a Peanuts character in it hanging on your wall.”
Everard raised an eyebrow at me, his expression affronted. But it didn’t last because we both knew I was right. “Tenté, mon garçon.”
At Kerrigan’s questioning look, he translated, “Tempted.”
She chuckled and moved on to the next gallery. Every stall was represented by different art dealers, auction houses, museums, etc. from all over the United States.
In order to entice as many patrons as possible, the prices ranged from one hundred dollars all the way up to half a million.
When we reached one of the larger galleries near the front entrance, Kerrigan stopped and stared. She looked as if she was trying to work out a puzzle, then it seemed to dawn on her. “This is Belladonna Gallery.”
“Très bien,” I praised.
Taking a few steps farther inside the stall, she scrutinized a painting that had been hung from the ceiling and was illuminated by the spotlight above. “Isn’t this supposed to be in a private collection? The Wallard family?”
I nodded. “They’ve decided to cull their collection.”
Everard snorted, and I shot him a warning glance, but it was too late. Kerrigan had noticed.
She lifted her brow as she looked at him, waiting for clarification.
To his credit, he didn’t bat an eye as he spouted an explanation. “More like their son owes a lot of money to…certain parties and are selling off their collection to pay their debt.”
She frowned. “Like the IRS?”
“More like a debt collector,” he replied with a mysterious smile.
Before she could question him further, I shot Everard another warning glare and jumped in with, “I managed to convince them to let us handle the sale of their pieces.”
I didn’t elucidate on how I convinced them because it involved Mafia intimidation tactics.
“I wonder if that’s what happened with the Caravaggio they sold at the auction,” she mused. “Maybe the Mafia needed an infusion of cash, so they decided to sell some of their ill-gotten goods?”
Scratching my chin, I put on a thoughtful expression. “It seems more likely that someone stumbled across the painting at an estate sale or during the demolition of an old house.”
“It’s interesting that there was no reward for this particular piece.”
“Oh? How so?” I asked, keeping my tone easy and light.
“Well, with a painting like The Storm on the Sea of Galilee by Rembrandt, whoever found it wouldn’t have been able to auction it for almost thirty million. They would have had to take the ten-million-dollar reward. Assuming it wasn’t a fake.”
“It’s a good thing all of the art in this show has been thoroughly authenticated,” Everard piped up. “Did you see the collection over here?”
He led her toward another stall, where the display immediately captivated her.
Thankfully, she didn’t bring up the Caravaggio again.
At the end of the tour, Kerrigan put her hands on her hips and did a slow turn in the middle of the room before facing me with a bright smile. “I’m impressed, Mr. Couillens,” she quipped, then went on her tiptoes to place a far too fleeting kiss on my lips.
Slipping an arm around her waist, I dragged her body against mine. “If that is what I get for impressing you, I’ll have to find more ways to dazzle you.” I paused and pretended to think really hard before asking, “Is your demonstration of appreciation relative to how awed you are?”
Kerrigan’s smile was slow and seductive, sending all the blood in my body rushing to my cock. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”
6
KERRIGAN
It had only been two days since our last date, but Aston had haunted my thoughts around the clock. I’d spent the time trying to focus on work, but it was impossible to concentrate on anything but him. My mind was focused on my growing fascination with the man who had swept me off my feet with his romantic gestures.
Nothing could erase the memory of his kisses, or the way his voice wrapped around me like silk.
It was hard to comprehend how completely he’d captured my attention when I’d never had a problem with ignoring the outside world while concentrating on work. But there was no denying I was falling hard and fast for Aston. Not with how my heart raced at each ding of my phone’s notifications, hoping it was a message from him.
Luckily, this time it was.