And The Beat Goes On (6 page)

Chapter Ten

♬

Athena Riley

Mr. Clearwater was controlling, domineering, and forward. He cornered me in that car then took me home when I didn’t want him to. Then he threatened Jasper for touching me. It was extremely frightening.

But I liked it. And that was more frightening.

While he seemed rigid and
manipulative, I suspected a lighter side to him. When he laughed at my words, a different side of him emerged. It was only for a moment in time, but it was there. And it was beautiful.

He was charming and handsome. I still wondered what was under the suit. I imagined a solid body that was flawless. He couldn’t be that thick without a strict exercise regime.

And I was happy he wasn’t married or seeing anyone, as crazy as that made me sound.

But what did I expect to happen? He was my professor. I’m pretty sure there are no rules that forbid it, but it still didn’t make me look good. Every one would assume I was just with him for a grade or to get ahead in life. Any respect I had vanished. But I knew most girls wouldn’t care. Even if he
wasn’t rich, girls would line up just for a taste.

I tried to stop thinking about him. It wasn’t healthy.
And I pushed him away. He tried to protect me, which was very sweet, but I put him in his place. That should keep him back.

But did I want to keep him away
?

And what did he want from me? Was I just one of the many? If it
wasn’t me, would he seduce a different student? Was he taking advantage of his position to get laid? I didn’t know. He didn’t know me well enough to actually care about me. I doubt I meant anything to him. Maybe he just wanted to sleep with me and never call me again.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen.

I was nervous for the auction. I spent a little extra cash on a nice dress. I didn’t have anything else to wear, and Heather’s dresses were a little too big because she was blessed in the chest department. I was petite so I didn’t have the fabulous curves she did.

I did my makeup for the first time in forever. If someone did pick my painting, I wanted to look good for it. The dark color around my eyes made them appear bigger. The green sheen shined bright.

When I thought I looked decent, I took a cab to the university. I would normally walk to the subway but I was wearing heels. And they usually hurt my feet after long distances.

The outside auditorium was decorated in white lights. Heaters were spaced around to keep everyone warm. Even though it was a little chilly, it was beautiful. Tables with white tablecloths were spaced around. A lot of the attendants were art collectors. That made me more nervous.

I checked in then took a seat at my table. Other contestants joined me, but I didn’t know any of them. I sipped my wine and thought about Mr. Clearwater, the man who hadn’t left my thoughts since the moment I saw him.

What was it about him?

He clearly wasn’t my type. He was rich, affluent, aggressive, and he seemed like a playboy. But damn, he was hot. I couldn’t deny my attraction to him, and I hated that about myself. The heart always clashed with the mind, and it always won. Always.

The auction began and the commentator went through the paintings. The first three had no bidders.

How humiliating. Please don’t let that happen to me.

The only good thing
about the auction was the anonymity of the process. The name of the artist wasn’t revealed until after the painting was purchased. At least no one would know how much of a failure I was but me.

There were at least a hundred paintings, so it took the commentator a while to get through them. A few of the paintings were sold for a few hundred dollars. And that was a lot. The winnings were split with the university as a donation, but that was still some nice pocket change.

If someone bought my painting for five pounds, I’d be ecstatic.

The commentator placed my paintings on the easel. My heart lurched in my chest and the bile rose in my stomach. I never felt so sick. No one would bid on my painting, and I’d be a failure. My dad would be right.

“The bid is now open.” He rested his hands on either side of the podium and waited for someone to offer an amount.

Silence.

Thank god no one knew it was mine.

“
Three hundred pounds.”

What? Who said that?
I looked in the crowd and saw a raised hand. It was an older man. I couldn’t believe someone actually offered money for something I created. Butterflies emerged in my stomach, and I felt higher than a kite.

“Five hundred.”

Oh my god…

“Seven hundred.”

They were talking about my painting, right?
I could really use the money, especially since I gave some of my savings to my brother. But I was just flattered more than one person thought I was talented. Actually, I was shocked.

“Ten thousand pounds.”

Bloody hell! Did I hear them right?

The crowd turned to the bidder. Hushed whispers were exchanged. Everyone wanted to know who offered so much money for an amateur painting. I scanned the crowd but didn’t see the culprit.

The commentator eyed everyone at the tables, waiting for any other bidders. “Going once…”

There wouldn’t be another offer, not after that.

“Going twice…”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. My hands covered my face because I was so shocked. I couldn’t breathe. My lungs hurt.

“Sold to the gentleman in the back.”

Everyone clapped then looked over their shoulders, waiting for the man to claim his award. He rose from his chair then buttoned the front of his suit. He walked through the table
s and approached the stage.

When I saw his face, I almost fainted.

It was Mr. Clearwater.

When he walked by my table, he didn’t look at me. He grabbed the painting from the commentator and he held it up to the round of applause.

“The artist is Athena Riley,” the commentator said. “And you’ve just purchased an evening with her.”

Everyone looked at me, still clapping. My cheeks reddened at the praise.

Mr. Clearwater took the painting and returned to his table. I watched him go, my eyes lingering on his shoulders and his ass. They both looked nice.

They finished the auction but I wasn’t listening. All I could do was replay the moment in my head. I couldn’t believe Mr. Clearwater purchased my painting, and I couldn’t believe the amount he purchased it for. My mind was still reeling.

When dinner was served, I barely touched my food. I was too nervous to eat. I pushed the asparagus and chicken around my plate. I kept my eyes downcast to avoid the gaze of others. Every time I looked up, someone was staring at me.

Finally, the music played and people took to the floor. I remained in my seat and watched them dance. I should probably find Mr. Clearwater and work out our arrangement but I was still too stunned to move.

What are the odds he would purchase my painting?
He had no idea it was mine. It was like destiny. I created something that meant something to him. It moved him in some way.

The people at my table left and mi
ngled with others at the auction. Some got drinks and others took to the dance floor. I sipped my champagne and watched everyone have a good time.

When I looked up, I saw the blue eyes I was so fond of. He remained in his chair, his ankle resting on his knee. But his eyes were pinned to me. The intensity in his look made me squirm. I held his look as long as I could until I finally gave in. I looked away, making him the victor. It was an unspoken battle between us. One he always won.

In my peripheral vision, I saw him leave his chair and approach my table. The chair next to me was pulled out and he sat down. I still didn’t look at him, pretending I was more interested in the crowd on the dance floor.

He made me so nervous. I was never like this. Normally, I held my ground and didn’t let anyone intimidate me. But Mr. Clearwater always did. The silence stretched between us.

“Your painting is truly exceptional.”

The words went straight into my heart. I worked on that piece for a month. I was going through a difficult time when I created it. It meant the world to me that someone appreciated it. And now my feelings changed toward Mr. Clearwater. If he loved that painting, he must understand me—in a way. “Thank you.”

He took my glass and downed the rest of the contents. “Would you like another?”

“I’m okay,” I said quietly.

He stared at me, blatantly making me feel warm. “I’m going to put it in my living room.”

What? Put what? “Sorry?”

“The painting. I want everyone to see it when they come inside.”

“Oh.” I felt the redness flood my cheeks. “That
’s nice.”

“And I want to tell everyone the artist is an extraordinary student of mine—ex student.” He rested his hand on his thigh. “Because I won’t be teaching forever. The gig is only temporary.”

What did he mean by that?
“Why do you say it’s only temporary?”

“Because it is. I only took the position to help a friend. When the semester is over, I never plan to return.”

I finally looked at him, seeing his chest and arms in his expensive suit. He never wore anything else, and never wore nothing. And I would love to see that. “Why are you telling me this?”

His eyes bore into mine. I had no idea what he was thinking based on the look alone. “So you understand that our current relationship isn’t forever.”

Meaning…? This guy was an enigma.
“Why did you take the job to begin with?”

He looked across the area and watched the band play. “My old professor, Dr. Yang, had some trouble with the university.”

“He was my economics teacher.”

He nodded. “They were going to let him ago without his pension if he didn’t pull something spectacular out of his ass. He came to my office and begged me to teach for the semester. His two kids are in college and his wife is sick. I couldn’t say no.”

Wow. That was really sweet.
Mr. Clearwater was a busy man with a plethora of responsibilities. I’m sure the last thing he wanted to do was teach a class. “That’s…really nice.”

He grabbed the bottle of champagne and filled my glass. Then he took a drink.

“Why didn’t you just offer him money?”

Mr. Clearwater looked at me. “Money isn’t the most important thing in the world. Dr. Yang loves his job and his students. I know he cares more about that than an early retirement. Plus, I would never insult him in such a way.”

Perhaps I got the wrong impression in the beginning. Mr. Clearwater was selfless, caring, and thoughtful. Even though his class was taught in an odd way, I already learned a lot. “I think I misjudged you. And I apologize for that.”

His eyes softened when he looked at me. “Maybe. But get to know me a little better before you make your final decision.”

“And how would I do that?”

He rested his hands in
his lap. He was so calm and collected that I couldn’t read him. He said less than a normal person, but his actions said a lot more than most. “Let’s start with the night I just paid for?”

My heart raced and
my palms started to sweat. “Okay.” My voice barely escaped as a whisper.

“How about dinner?”

“I like food.” I smiled.

“And I like you.” He kept a straight face. Then he rose from his chair and helped me up.

When I was standing, I felt warm fabric surround my shoulders and arms. It was soft and light, but contained the warmth of a heater. His scent overcame me and made me breathe deeply. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome.” He put his hand on my waist and led me through the crowd.

I loved feeling his jacket around me. It made me feel like I was his. We walked to the parking lot then stopped when we reached the end of the sidewalk. Mr. Clearwater called his driver then hung up.

It was quiet where we stood. We were away from the crowd, and I suddenly realized how alone we were. Mr. Clearwater turned his body and faced me. He was dangerously close to
me, close enough to feel my breath fall on his face. I was grateful I chewed a piece of gum after dinner.

The distinct smell of wine came from him. I glanced at his lips and wondered if they tasted the same. The butterflies and anxiety squirmed in my stomach. I suddenly felt aware of my own body. I straightened my posture and fixed my hair. Mr. Clearwater watched everything I did. He came even close
r to me, our bodies almost touching.

Was he going to kiss me?
I wanted him to. Wait, no I didn’t. Yes, I did. No! Ugh, I didn’t know what I wanted.

Like he could read my mind, Mr. Clearwater smiled slightly. “You’re such a beautiful woman. I always want a closer look.”

I think my ovaries just exploded. How can someone be so sexy without even trying? Everything about him was perfect. He had an elegance to him that never seemed feminine. He always retained his charm and charisma while exerting his masculinity. I was dying to see him shirtless. Everything under his clothes must be perfect too.