Here Comes Trouble (21 page)

He shifted her solidly against him, a slow grin forming as he saw her eyes fog.

“Maybe you’d better put me down if it’s conversation you’re wanting.”

“I didn’t say anything about talking.” He carried her out of the room, but not much farther than the living room as they hit the couch and fell into each other. “Remind me.” He kissed her behind the ear, trailed his lips to the pulse pounding in her neck. “What other balls will you be juggling?”

“Um, the signs in the entertainment center are being installed.” She started to pant as her fingers gripped his shoulders, slid over his slick skin. “And, I, um. God.” She shuddered. “And I have to verify schedules for stocking the stores and activity center.” She ended that part of her list on a purr that set his insides humming. He kissed her again, until he couldn’t breathe, until he didn’t want to, feeling every inch of her pressing against him, wanting him, the bare heat of her thighs wrapped around his hips making him feel more alive than he had in months. Maybe years. “And there’s the, um, delivery of your father’s paintings tomorrow, and I have another visit scheduled with Levia on Thursday.”

“It’s a good thing you have a capable assistant.” His hands roamed under her shirt and skimmed up her sides, making her shiver as her fingers slid beneath the band of his jeans. “I’ll be sure to make an appointment for a”—he pushed forward and saw her eyes widen before she arched against him—“consultation.”

“Let’s consult now.” She kissed him again, so deeply, so completely, he thought he’d go mad. “Maybe I can reschedule a couple of things.”

“Yeah.” His fingers slipped under the edge of her panties. “But let’s get rid of these for now.” He drew them aside and found her ready for him.

“Mmm, ’kay.” She moved against his probing fingers, tried to catch her breath as he shifted both of them enough to rid them of the rest of the fabric barriers between them and cover himself with the condom he’d stashed in his pocket.

“Consider yourself rescheduled.” She groaned as he slid inside her. Never had he felt such sweet torture as she locked her feet at the base of his spine. He gasped, unable to remember not being a part of her. “God, how did I let you go before?” She gasped. He slowed at her words, at the memory of what he’d done, at what he had to do. “Malcolm.” She reached up and touched his face, drew her fingers across his lips as she gave him the most caring smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of. “You can always change your mind, but for however long I have you, I want you here. With me. Present.” She rolled her hips to prove her point. Her breath hitched as he shifted inside her, the warm heat of her causing every nerve in his body to fire at once.

“Your wish is my command.”

“I love you.” She replaced her fingers with her lips, drew him down on her.

Before he could respond, before he could return the words, she closed her eyes, as if she didn’t want him to feel obligated. He did love her. More than he thought possible. More than he wanted to.

Too much to stay.

“Good afternoon, Chadwick. Alcina, I’m so glad you could join us.” Sheila swept into the reception area of the Emptor Gallery well before their agreed-upon meeting time. Her body continued to sing from the excess of attention Malcolm had paid it. “I know your time is limited, Chadwick. The delivery van has already finished unloading the crates and we’re in the process of unloading your paintings as we speak. Ah, see. Here we go.”

Chadwick, looking like a sour gargoyle in his grey Savile Row suit and stony expression, gave a short nod and stepped forward.

The pristine white walls and refurbished hardwood plank floor of the one-time department store aided in making the Emptor Gallery one of the preeminent show places in Southern California. That and the three-year-long waiting list for individual showings added to its status and popularity, both of which no doubt appealed to Chadwick. The fact that it was located in the heart of Lantano Valley, amidst a museum displaying a private collection of rare Serpian artifacts, and one of the best-reviewed restaurants in the area was added icing.

What strings did he have to pull to put this together in less than four months? Her mouth twisted as she considered the number of artists he’d probably displaced. Something to look into.

The half-wall displays angled against one another in order to show off up to two works in each cordoned off area.

“Do you mind if I stay for a while?” Alcina asked. The pewter pantsuit she wore would have given the royal family a run for its money. Elegance personified.

“Mother, I don’t think—” Chadwick’s booming voice was tempered by the surrounding workers. Mustn’t make a scene.

“A number of these paintings once belonged to your father, Chadwick.” Alcina tucked her purse under her arm and seemed to avoid looking at her son. “Forgive me if I’m not able to bid them as easy a farewell as you. I’ll just be over there, dear,” she told Sheila.

Sheila waved the first three gallery volunteers over. “Let’s line these up against the walls, please. We’ll order them later. I’m sorry,” Sheila said to Chadwick as he kept his stolid presence in place. “I thought these works were from your own private collection.” She hadn’t thought he could fall further in her estimation, but selling off his mother’s paintings to help cover his gambling debts and solidify his move? Cold-hearted son of a bitch.

“Most are,” he said, and the coolness of his voice almost made her shiver. “Others have been in storage for years and I’d rather buyers who want them have the opportunity to purchase them.”

Clearly Alcina wasn’t as detached from these beautiful pieces as he was, and the expression Malcolm’s grandmother cast upon the beautiful Jacques Wisdom seascape made Sheila’s heart ache. “Did you have any ideas on how you’d like these displayed?”

“Display is what I hired you for, Sheila.” Chadwick shook his head as if in apology. Irritation was more like it. “As long as they’re shown to their utmost potential and bring in the maximum amount of money, all will be well.”

“I’ll do my best. Why don’t I show you to that private viewing room we discussed?” She waved her hand toward the back of the gallery and gave silent thanks that Chadwick had been predictable enough to consult with Nathan on the added security. “We’ve programmed in the code you requested.” Malcolm would lose his mind if he knew she was hitting the same seven-seven-four-nine to disengage the lock. The ten-foot-square room had been outfitted with recessed lights along with individual lamps that would sit over each of the three paintings. “I’m hoping we have the correct wattage for the lights,” she said as she opened her notepad computer and tapped open the file for the auction. “Until we can see the paintings in person . . .”

“I’m sure this will be adequate.” Chadwick wandered the perimeter, nodding his approval. “I have a special courier delivering them precisely at three p.m. the day of the auction.”

So late? Sheila hoped whatever Nathan and Malcolm planned, they’d be able to get a look at those paintings ahead of time.

“They must be very special to warrant the extra attention,” Sheila said. “Which is why I had this brought in for your guests.” She gestured to the hand-carved walnut bench that had been varnished to a sparkling shine.

“Special is an understatement,” Chadwick said. “These particular pieces have interested parties already. So much so that I’ve already accepted initial bids for each of them. I’ll messenger that list over to your office by the end of the day.”

“I’ll let Liza know to expect it.” She tapped out a quick text to her assistant even as her mind raced. She knew to be prepared for anything, but advance bidding hadn’t been part of the plan. “Have there been any additions to the guest list Alcina and I finalized the other afternoon?”

“Yes. I’ll include those names as well.”

“Understood.” Again she nodded, jotted down the note. “If everything meets with your approval—” She led Chadwick out and locked the door again. “I’ll be sure to be here to oversee their arrival on Friday—”

“I’ll be overseeing that myself.” And then, as if he’d been jolted into good behavior added, “If you don’t mind.”

“You’re the client,” she said with that practiced smile.

“You’ve always been a smart girl. Like your mother. Your sister, too, I suppose, despite some stumbles along the way what with that Nemesis business a while ago.”

Sheila imagined stomping her needle-thin heel into the top of his foot. “Morgan’s always had her own drummer. I appreciate the faith you’ve shown in me.”

“Your judgment in men, however, has left me wondering about your reliability.”

“Excuse me?” The comment slapped the smile off her face.

“Ty mentioned you’re seeing Malcolm again.”

“I, well.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced around as this time Chadwick’s voice carried and turned a few heads. “Yes, we’ve reconnected.” Understatement of the millennium.

“Given what happened I’m surprised you’d put your family’s reputation on the line by aligning yourself with him. There’s no telling what he’s been up to these last few years, but I can only assume it’s of no benefit to anyone other than himself.”

“Yes, well.” Sheila needed to choose her words with care, difficult given her temper was beginning to boil. “I can assure you our relationship will not interfere with the work I’m doing for you. Whatever the issues between you and your son are, they have nothing to do with me. Besides,” she said with what she hoped was appropriate detachment, as if she could shrug it off, “he’ll be leaving town again after the gala, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“I had heard something to that effect,” Chadwick said, all but giving her whiplash when he added, “Forgive me, Sheila. I don’t mean to impose on your personal life. I don’t want to see him hurt you again.”

“I assure you, Chadwick, I’ve gone into this entire situation with my eyes wide open.” She lowered her lashes and touched his arm, lying not only to him, but to herself as well. “But I appreciate your concern. Was there anything else we needed to discuss before you leave the rest to me?”

“Yes.” Chadwick withdrew a business card from his wallet. “A Thomas Brosnan from Actuary Insurance will be doing a final check of all the artwork before the auction begins. He comes very highly recommended. Here’s his card. If you wouldn’t mind touching base with him to make sure he has full access to the collection, with a few minor exceptions of course.” He indicated the private room.

Her lungs nearly collapsed. “Another appraisal? I thought they had all been inspected prior to their arrival here.”

“They were, but I’d rather err on the side of caution. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to any of these pieces on your watch, Sheila. Consider this added peace of mind for yourself as well.”

“You are too kind,” she said, wishing she could crumple the insurance appraiser with as much ease as she could the business card. “I can see you’re anxious to be on your way. I’d be happy to make sure Alcina gets home.”

“Thank you. Mother, I’ll see you at dinner.”

“My son is far from observant,” Alcina said as Sheila took a seat next to her on the polished bench nearby. More paintings arrived, were unboxed, and set on the floor for hanging. “One look at you and anyone can tell you and my Malcolm have more than, how did you put it, reconnected?”

“No need to make me blush, Alcina. Your grandson’s doing enough of that on his own.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Once upon a time I had that same look on my face you had moments ago. I can only hope Malcolm sees there’s more to stay for than to run from.”

“Alcina—”

“Give an old woman her dreams, Sheila. Nothing in this world would make me happier than to see you and Malcolm work things out.”

“If it were up to me . . .”

“Yes, well. And if it were up to me, this painting wouldn’t be sold off to pay my son’s gambling debts.”

She knew? Alcina may as well have slugged her in the stomach. “I thought this auction was him culling down his collection before moving overseas.”

“Sheila, really, you can’t think me so naive. Chadwick has never been one to venture farther than the Four Seasons whenever possible. I can assure you, his move to Switzerland has more to do with cutting ties than an interest in tourism and retirement. Nothing happens in my house without me knowing about it, something I pointed out to Malcolm the other day. I’ve made it clear to Chadwick that after this auction, he’s done getting any help, especially financial help, from me. I do hope he’s learned his lesson. Not that it matters. Once these pieces are gone, the only thing left of value will be the house, and that is still in my name.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Alcina gave her a coy smile. “Oh, my dear. I think you know why. Now. Let’s say you get to work and get this auction rolling.”

***

Liza poked her head into Sheila’s office just before lunch and pulled Sheila’s attention from the window. “Does Malcolm Oliver have that same dreamy look on his face?”

“Dreamy?” Sheila asked at Liza’s salacious grin. “Have we been transported into a 1950s sitcom?”

Liza dropped into the chair on the other side of Sheila’s desk. “I’m thinking they had really hot sex back then, don’t you? They just couldn’t talk about it. Or have anything other than twin beds. Cramped, I bet.”

“I’m not having this conversation.” Tempting as girl talk was, she still had Nemesis plans to finalize.

“Can you have it with me?” Morgan strolled in looking more professional than Sheila had seen her appear in a long time. Having spent so much time on the construction site, Morgan had fallen into the jeans and T-shirt routine. The black pencil skirt and bright yellow blouse made her look like a professional bumblebee.

“You’re more than familiar with hot sex,” Sheila drawled. Morgan grinned. “I got your message. The store signs are going up today, right?”

“I’m heading over there in a few minutes to oversee the installation. Want to drive with me?”

“Yeah. Gina’s printing out the final checklist for the gala. Liza, would you mind . . .” Morgan’s silent suggestion trailed off.

“I’m never going to be old enough for this conversation, am I?” Liza flounced out of the office, her paisley maxi dress swirling about her legs.

“All the more reason for you and Gina to get along,” Morgan called after her, then waited for the door to close before she swung on Sheila, eyes bright. “So. Dish. Now.”

“In the car. Not that you’ll get much out of me.”

“Oh, come on. You heard all about Gage.”

“You told me, I didn’t ask.”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

It wasn’t how Sheila remembered it either. “What is this? An episode of
Sex and the City
?”

“Depends.” Morgan bit her lip. “Last night were you Samantha or Charlotte?”

Sheila felt her cheeks flame. “I’m betting Veronica would tell me to plead the fifth, right, Veronica?” Sheila called into the other woman’s office as they passed, only to receive a half-hearted wave as Malcolm’s lawyer was occupied scanning through computer screens. “You want coffee?” Sheila asked her sister.

“Have you noticed anything odd going on with Dad?” Morgan asked once they had coffee and were loaded into Sheila’s car, headed to the center.

“Odd?” So much for assuming Morgan had been too busy to notice. “Um, no. Why? Have you?”

“He seems distracted. We were supposed to have lunch later this week and he cancelled. I mean, it’s no big deal. I know he’s busy at work and stuff, but you don’t think—” Morgan shook her head, sipped at her triple-shot latte. “Never mind.”

“I think you’re overdosing on happiness right now and you want everyone to feel the same way. Including Dad.”

“Are you overdosing on happiness?”‘

“For now.” Later? At least she’d have Morgan and Gage’s wedding to focus on.

“You do seem more, um, relaxed.”

“Painting does that to me.”

Morgan’s face scrunched. “Eesh. Is that your code word for sex?”

“No,” Sheila laughed. “But the sex helped.” It had helped a lot.

“What happens with Malcolm, um.” Morgan turned her head to look out the window, but not before Sheila caught her flinch. “When Malcolm leaves?”

Her sister’s words hit like physical blows. “Way to kill the afterglow. How did you know he’s leaving? Wait, so that’s what you two were talking about last night.”

Morgan shrugged. “That, and Nathan might have mentioned it.”

“You know, if we interfered in our brother’s love life this way—” Sheila said.

“I’m worried about you getting hurt.”

“Boy, today must be worry-about-Sheila day. First Malcolm, then Chadwick, now you. What happened to your seize-the-moment lecture the other day?”

Morgan’s face twisted. “Why would Chadwick Oliver be worried about you getting hurt?”

“God only knows. Look, how about we focus our attention on Nathan and see what we can do about his lack of a social life. Veronica Harrison. What do you think?”

“I like her,” Morgan admitted. “But I think there’s as much chemistry between her and Nathan as Bert and Ernie.”

“Well, you know what they say about Ernie and—”

“Lalalalala.” Morgan covered her ears with her hands. “You are not ruining
Sesame Street
for me.” She ducked her chin, bit her lip, something her sister always did when she needed to talk about something she didn’t want to talk about. “Just be careful with Malcolm, okay? I know you think you’re prepared for him leaving, but . . .”