Seduction’s Canvas (Crimson Romance) (17 page)

Sam mentally brought a smile to her voice. “Great! I’ll be down in a minute. Just hold tight.” She clicked off and reached for her new sling backs. Gorgeous, but she knew she’d be paying the price well before midnight.

On the way out of her apartment, she quietly closed her door, checking the lock then tucking her clutch under her arm. She let her eyes sweep over to Thorn’s door. 1208, the 8 gleaming at her like the sign for infinity. She shook her head. Silly girl. Grow up already. He should be in apartment number one for one night, well, one afternoon stand. Not that it wasn’t what she’d asked for. She didn’t do infinity. It wasn’t for her. So what was she going on about? Swallowing deep, Sam turned her gaze and headed toward the elevators.

The elevator doors pinged open on the eighth floor and in walked her friend Mika with Alejandro — Mika’s ex-boss, now fiancé. Alejandro was a red hot photographer with a studio and an apartment on the eighth floor. She hadn’t heard from Mika in a few weeks and hadn’t known she was back from her most recent location shoot. She was so in demand since she’d stopped working for Alejandro and gone out on her own. They walked in, hand in hand, gazing up at each other, and didn’t notice her until they were practically on top of her. “Hey there,” Mika said, coming out of her love haze. “You’re on my list of must calls. How are you?”

Sam smiled as the doors closed behind them. “I’m fine, though not as good as the two of you from the look of things. I didn’t know you were back in town.”

Mika looked up at Alejandro adoringly and then back at Sam. “I’m just back, then off again to Bora Bora for a few days.”

Sam grinned. “Tough gig.”

Sam noticed Alejandro give a frown at that one. “Yes, she’s off again. It seems I now have to schedule time to see my old assistant.” Though the words seemed harsh, they lacked any sting and instead held a hint of pride as he leaned in and kissed the top of her head lovingly.

“Well, that’s the way of things. There’s no stopping a talent like hers,” Sam said.

Alejandro beamed. “Definitely not and I’ve learned to just step back and move out of her way.” He gave Sam an appraising eye, taking in her strappy sandals and designer gown. “You’re looking good enough for a shoot yourself tonight. Where are you off to?”

Sam waved a hand. “I could never compete with your usual subjects, but thanks. Just a little family dinner.”

At that one, Mika let out a little bark of laughter. “Little family dinner. That’s funny, considering your family and the way you’re dressed. Let me guess — Mom, Dad, and just a few moguls?”

Sam groaned, twisting her perfectly lacquered lips. “Yeah, something like that.”

Mika gave her a sympathetic look. “Oh sorry, hon. Don’t worry, painter girl. You’ll be back to your canvases before you blink.”

Sam smiled and looked at the clearly still in the honeymoon stages couple. For some reason it felt like inspiration was striking and it had never felt that way for her with actual live subjects.
Except with Mark Thorn
, she thought. Otherwise, she was more of a nature, surroundings, or a still life type of artist. Better to stick with subjects that don’t talk back. But something in the way that Alejandro was protectively leaning over Mika and the way that Mika was easily melding in toward him just pulled at her and made her want to capture it. Hold it for herself.

“I’d love to do a portrait of the two of you,” she blurted out even before the thought was fully formed in her head.

Two pairs of eyes shot up at her in surprise. It was Alejandro that chimed in first. “Us? Um … ”

Sam didn’t miss Mika’s frown and Alejandro’s grimace as they gave each other a sideways glance as if there was this unspoken thing that she just wasn’t in on.

Mika laughed. “We wouldn’t be the best of subjects.”

Sam shook her head as the elevator opened. “Don’t try it. I’ve seen Alejandro’s book and you are a gorgeous subject.”

Mika’s blush couldn’t be hidden. Alejandro spoke up, “See, it’s what I always told her.”

She turned to him with a warning in her eyes. “Don’t start.” Then, turning back to Sam, “We’ll see, Sam, maybe one day. I’d much rather photograph you. Perhaps we can do a trade,” she said, stepping into the lobby.

“You two are funny, but really I’m no model.”

Mika piped up. “I’m thinking I’d like to do something in your studio. The artist at work. Get some buzz for your show?”

Sam paused. Now that did appeal. Even though she had the show booked. Getting buzz on her own, without her father’s help would be great and Lauren would be thrilled. Although she still was unsure about something so intimate as a shoot. She nibbled on her bottom lip.

“No need to stress,” Mika said. “I’ll call you and we’ll chat. We’re due for a hang out anyway. Now you go. I think your chariot is waiting.”

Sam looked toward where Mika’s eyes went and she saw a black Maybach parked in front of the building. Way to keep it low key, Peter.

She watched as Mika and Ale made their way arm and arm up the block into the New York night. It was clear they were headed out to a casual dinner with no fanfare. Looking back at the black car that was sure to get attention as it made its way through the midtown traffic, something she was sure that Peter knew, Sam envied them their probably relaxed and easy evening.

She took a few steps forward and paused, expecting the driver to come around to let her in or for Peter to step out, but nothing happened. Maybe this wasn’t Peter’s car after all and she had jumped to conclusions. She couldn’t just go and open the door of any random Maybach.

At the very least that could get a person cursed out on the streets of New York. She was about to pull her cell from her little jeweled purse when she spotted the driver running over from across the street with a small bag in his hand.

“So sorry, Miss. Be there in a minute.”

She gave a don’t-worry-about-it look. Where was Peter? It was then that the air around her seemed to crackle and change as all her senses went on high alert. Her stomach did a little flip as a hand came from behind to open the car’s passenger door. A hand she instantly knew wasn’t Peter’s.

“I’ll get that for you.” Low, rumble on gravel.

She let out a breath and closed her eyes briefly as his voice washed over her. “Really, Mr. Thorn you don’t have to. As you can see there’s a man for that.”

But still he opened the door anyway and she looked down into the car’s sumptuous interior to see a tuxedo clad Peter, intent on his cell and deep in conversation. He looked up at her and gave a grin. “Gotta go,” he quipped into the phone as he hung up on whoever it was, not waiting for a proper goodbye. “Babe, you look gorgeous.”

With his now overly familiar “babe,” Sam couldn’t keep her frown from going from her eyes to her lips.

It was then that the chauffer made it across the street, working his way around Mark to be sure that Peter could see him. “Sorry I couldn’t get your door, ma’am.” He turned his attention to Peter. “Sir, I have that item for you.” He then turned back to Mark, who still had a hand casually draped across the open door frame. He looked up. “Um, sir, I have it. Thanks.”

It was then that Peter looked around Sam and over toward Mark. He bared his teeth, showing off a smile loaded with anger that didn’t come close to reaching his cold eyes. “Ahh, the trainer!”

Sam inwardly winced. Peter knew good and well Mark wasn’t a trainer. “You looking to add chauffeur to your resume? Thanks, man, but as you can see the lady is well taken care of.”

Mark threw off a cool grin. “Is she? Because I couldn’t help but notice when she needed an assist you and your man were late.”

“You think?” Peter’s gaze swept over Mark in a dismissive gesture. “I doubt that. From where I’m sitting it looks like I was right on time.”

Sam grimaced, taking in the masculine posturing and the now clear uneasiness of the guy whose actual job it was to open the door, left holding the brown paper bag with who knew what, while these two went at it.

Besides, who was Mark to walk up on her, bold as he wanted, after not a word for days?

She mentally kicked herself at her girly rules. Sure she was the one to kick him out of her apartment … still, it was the principle of the thing.

“Can we just go? I don’t want to be late. Peter, you know Mother is a stickler for her dinner times.”

It was then that she felt something simmer and the tension seem to actually physically rise from where Mark was behind her. Sam moved forward toward the car and paused at the sudden distinct feel of Mark’s warm knuckles running slowly down her spine, toward her lower back. She sucked in a breath as her legs turned to noodles and her center suddenly went to pudding. She felt her cheeks flame. The chauffer coughed and Sam’s eyes shifted just in time to see him suddenly engrossed with the building’s upper architecture. He saw exactly what Mark did, even if Peter didn’t. Sam leaned in toward the car and gestured for Peter to scooch over.

“Yeah, man, I can see that you’re right on time,” Mark said behind her back as she got in.

The door was about to close as Peter leaned across her to look up at Mark. “Thanks again, neighbor, and I’d still love to train with you. The offer is always open. Looks like you’re a monster in the gym. And hey, if it’s a money thing, just name your price. You’ve got my card.”

• • •

“Why are you so quiet?” Peter asked as the car slid seamlessly into the New York night. He dug into the brown bag and pulled out an energy drink, popped the top, and tipped it back.

Sam eased her head from the florescent and moonlit view and slid Peter a cool glance. “Was I being quiet? I hadn’t noticed.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed on her before they widened back into his usual casual gaze. “Aww, come on now, Sam. I know this can’t be about the trainer. You can’t let a guy like that ruin our night.”

Sam raised a brow. “He’s not a trainer and you know it.”

Peter gave a dismissive shrug, barely making the effort to put his shoulders into it. “Well, I know he’s no run of the mill security guy or whatever it was he called himself.”

“Well, what should it matter to you what he does? And really, you’re letting your inner snob show a bit too much.”

Peter smiled, flashing teeth so perfect they could make a top periodontist weep. “Please excuse me, Miss Leighton,” he started, the “Miss Leighton” causing her to bristle in a way it never did with Mark, “but I didn’t know you were so sensitive about the man. I hope you accept my apology.” He leaned in and ran a finger lightly along her bare shoulder, sending a chill down her arm that had nothing to do with being cold.

Peter suddenly leaned back, patting her leg. “Now come on, let’s make this a decent evening. Does it really have to be about the neighbor? I thought we were getting to know each other.”

Sam felt her brows knit together as she thought she caught a hint of vulnerability creep into his voice. He was right — this wasn’t about the neighbor, as he so very well put it. And that’s just what Mark was, the neighbor, the neighbor she happened to be wildly attracted to, that somehow brought out a new freshness and passion in her work that she had been lacking, the neighbor that was fast becoming her reluctant muse and the neighbor that, damn it to hell, had given her the best couple of hours of her life and try as she might, she just couldn’t shake. But like it or not he was still just that. The neighbor.

She let out a sigh and looked over at Peter. Ease, grace, and charm plastered all over his well bred face. “You’re right. Let’s make this a nice evening. “Time to meet the parents.”

“Well it’s about time, you two. Where have you been?” Liv Leighton rushed — well, if you could call her socialite two step shuffle a rush — past Tanner, their butler, to make her displeasure formally known.

Sam was about to chime in with her excuses when Peter spoke up, cutting her off. “I’m so sorry. It was my fault, Mrs. Leighton. Business held me up and I therefore was late in picking up Samara. You have my sincerest apologies.” He then flashed his best “sell it baby” smile and leaned in, taking Liv’s hand lightly in his own and giving it a perfectly overdone, but somehow seemingly natural brush across her knuckles.

For the second time that night, Sam almost teetered on her new heels. What was happening? In all of two seconds, Peter had Liv wrapped up and when he smoothly let her hand go, she gave a coy wave and an “Oh, I do understand business” as she took his arm and ushered him down the marble hall to the Leighton formal living room.

Sam raised a brow at the stony faced Tanner. “Who would have thought it was so easy?”

“Who indeed, Miss Samara,” was Tanner’s only response.

Sam let out a puff of air and started down the hall behind them.

The supposedly intimate gathering was already in full swing as Samara glanced at the assembled crowd. As she’d guessed, it was a who’s who of the New York social scene. Gathered around the carefully rearranged seating and highlighted amongst the perfect lighting for diamonds to glint back against the backdrop of the perfect moonlit view of Central Park, were bankers and real estate moguls hobnobbing with judges and statesmen, with the occasional nefarious nondescript “businessman” thrown in for good measure. The kind where you never quite knew what business they were dealing in but you knew you wanted them on your side.

Sam reached out and took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter just as a booming voice came down upon her.

“If it isn’t little Sammy all grown up! And to think, I used to have you across my knee.”

Sam steeled her back and turned, flashing her best venomous smile onto Robert Blake, CEO of BFG Industries, one of her father’s main builders. The towering older man wore his darkened hair well oiled and swept back from his forehead, and despite him being her father’s age, he didn’t try and cover up his obvious perusal of Sam’s figure. She raised a brow at him and put up at hand when he swooped in to kiss her cheek.

“Really, Robert, or should I be calling you Uncle Blake after all these years? I’m glad to see you’re getting along so well. Must be that new wife keeping you young.”