Page 32 of Landen
“No harm indoing so again. I can compensate you for the day. How much do youearn?” His lips were trailing down her cheeks.
Pushing him away, shegave him a dark look that had him grinning at her.
“I am usuallynot so crass,” he admitted. “I think lust for you isgetting to my head.”
“Whatever.”She could not be angry with him for long, and with a broad smile, shewalked over to kiss him. “If you insist on coming-”
“I will bethere,” he assured her.
“I will see youlater.” With a cheery wave, she left.
Dragging in a deepbreath, he sat back down, the need for coffee no longer there.Glancing at the clock, he estimated the time to be a little shy ofnoon. Picking up his phone, he called his sister.
“Landen, howdelightful to hear from you,” she exclaimed.
“Where areyou?” He asked abruptly.
“The spring teafestival is about to begin-”
“Is motheranywhere near you?”
He waited while shepaused and assumed she was ensuring they had privacy.
“I had to getrid of some of the ladies. What’s wrong?”
“Has she orfather said anything to you about me?”
“They had Saraand her parents over for dinner.”
“Father alreadytold me that,” he said harshly. “I cannot marry her.”
“Darling, theywere in discussions about the wedding-”
“I cannot marryher,” he stressed.
“You have metsomeone.” His sister said slowly.
“Even if thatwere not the case, I would still not be marrying Ms. Pendleton. Irefuse to be bogged down by this stupid tradition.” Lunging tohis feet, he started to slowly prowl the length of the kitchen,stopping in front of the window.
“Is she someonethey will approve of?” His sister’s tentative voiceroused him from his restless thoughts and had him smiling grimly.
“Absolutelynot. And I am depending on your discretion to keep this toyourself.”
“When are youcoming home?”
“When I havesorted things out.” He sat back down and closed his eyesbriefly. “I don’t know what the hell I am going to do.But in the meantime, I intend to put it all behind me and enjoymyself.”
*****
Tessa could tell theprecise moment he came into the gallery. She was so attuned to hispresence that she felt her senses tingling before he walked up behindher. “A rather delightfully lovely piece.”
His deep, accentedvoice had her knees buckling and her heart pounding. “I wouldsay the artist was somewhat of a recluse. But his use of the brush onthe canvas is remarkable.”
The elderly womanbeside her turned in delight to stare at the handsome dark-haired manstanding a few inches behind them.
“You, sir, seemto know a lot about paintings.”
“That'sGainsborough and a favorite of mine.” He glanced briefly at theslender beauty who had been explaining the merits of the painting tothe woman. “Are you thinking of purchasing it?”