In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(52)

“I’ve been collecting art since I was a teenager. I have an eye for it, and I know she has a rare talent.” James continued when neither of us spoke.

Stephan looked shocked, then ecstatic. “Yes, she does. You have to do this, Buttercup. I will have an absolute conniption if you don’t.”

I said the first thing that came to my mind. “Most of them are desert landscapes. There is no way that would go over well in New York.” Of all of the things I found impossible about his proposal, I didn’t know why that detail was at the forefront of my thoughts, of all things.

James smiled, a triumphant smile. It was mesmerizing. The smile of a savage conquerer. And I’d just given him what he wanted.

“You never know, they might like a change of scenery, but that will be for my gallery people to decide. I have a gallery in L.A as well, and even a small one on the strip here in Vegas. The Vegas one is mostly a tourist attraction, though. I wouldn’t consider it for a showing.”

“All I need you to do is to set aside anything you don’t want shown, and to name the pictures that you’d like named. I’ll send a sampling to both galleries so they can give me some feedback before we set up a showing. Also, I think some of the work you have displayed around the house could sell really well as prints, if you’d consider something like that.”

I thought back to all of the pictures he’d set aside. “So that’s what you were getting? Samples for the galleries?”

He looked at me like I’d gone insane. “No, of course not. Those are for my own collection. You and I will decide together what to send as samples.”

I felt a wave of insecurity. “I have no training. I-”

He covered my mouth. “None of that matters, Love. You’ve either got it or you don’t. And you have it. Now tell me you agree.”

I didn’t agree or disagree, but just sat for awhile, stunned. I did want this, wanted it badly, though I’d never even considered that something like this could happen. And I knew that it wouldn’t have, if a billionaire hadn’t taken a sudden, obsessive interest in every aspect of my life. I supposed that was my biggest reservation about the whole thing; the fact that this was all just another way for him to dote on me.

“Will you take a cut, for your trouble, if I sell anything?” I finally asked.

He raised a brow at me. “I wasn’t planning on it, no.” He managed to sound insulted with the small statement.

“I would feel better if you did. The gallery will at least charge for putting on the showing, right?”

He sighed. “That is usually the standard procedure,” he said carefully.

Stephan burst out suddenly, his tone thick with exasperated annoyance. “Oh, for God’s sake, Bianca! How can you say no to this? You have a rare opportunity here, and if your work sells, it sells. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. What’s the hangup?”

He was using a certain tone he had, a tone that asked ‘Where’s your backbone?’ without him having to utter the words. It made my spine straighten, which was the point.

I nodded. “Okay, I’ll do it. When should we select the samples?”

James pulled me into his lap, kissing me way too passionately for anywhere but the privacy of a bedroom.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured against my mouth, then started kissing again. His hands stayed firmly on my hips, holding me tight in his lap. But his mouth was positively obscene.

I couldn’t forget that Stephan sat just a few feet away, but I also couldn’t keep from responding. I tried to stifle a little moan as his tongue stroked into my mouth.

He bit my lip, hard.

I gasped, my hands gripping his rock-hard shoulders. I could feel his conspicuous erection against my hip. As his tongue swept in again, I sucked on it. That made him pull back, giving me a hot but censorious look.

“That will get you f**ked in a hurry, Love,” he whispered, but I figured Stephan could still hear us, in such a small space.

I glared at him. “You started it.”

I heard Stephan stifle a laugh.

James just grinned wickedly.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Mr. Volatile

Lunch was a happy affair. James and Stephan seemed to be getting more and more chummy. They joked comfortably while we ate sushi at Stephan’s dining room table.

James had been right, of course. The sushi was great. And the selection Clark had collected was vast. It was literally enough to feed ten people.

I gamely insisted on using chopsticks, picking out a Philadelphia roll and some shrimp tempura to start, dipping it generously into soy sauce mixed with chili sauce.

“You joining us at that bar in New York again on Friday night? Same time, same place,” Stephan was saying to James.

James reached over, placing that familiar hand at my nape. “I was actually hoping Bianca would come see my apartment on Friday. Could I steal you away for a night, Love?”

I swallowed my mouthful of shrimp tempura. I was more than a little curious to see the playground he had mentioned. Equal parts thrill and trepidation coursed through me just thinking about it.

“Yes, you could,” I said simply. James sent me a scorching look, then went back to chatting with Stephan.

After lunch, James got a tour of Stephan’s house and again studied every piece of my art like his life depended on it. He took several pictures with his phone.