9. A Thousand Perfect Orchids
Chapter nine
A Thousand Perfect Orchids
Kira
I sat in my office, staring at the spreadsheets, sales, and papers of authenticity that littered my desktop.
My finger traced my bottom lip where he had kissed me the night before. I had gone to bed thinking about it - about him.
Should I have reported the kiss to Blink? Would he care?
This was well outside of my scope! I wasn’t supposed to get close. I wasn’t that kind of agent. My job was to observe, report, and launder our fucking money to fund our operations. I wasn’t supposed to get involved. I wasn’t trained for that! Not really.
Dread seeped into my skin as I thought about how he had looked at me. How relentlessly he had pursued me. How I had allowed it. I didn’t even think twice! I had wanted it. I couldn’t deny that.
A knock at the door grabbed my attention.
“Delivery for Miss Kekoa.” A guy in a gray jumpsuit stood at the doorway, staring down at a clipboard. “Are you her?”
“Yes,” I said, waving him in.
Deliveries were par for the course. Canvases, art, and so many other things. I wasn’t expecting anything today, but sometimes people sent things early just to be rid of them.
I walked up to the man and signed the papers in his hand.
“Thanks,” he said, before turning his face down the hallway. “A’right, lads, bring it in!”
His voice had been American, but the words sounded Irish. I hated that it made me think of Eoghan, again.
I had to get him out of my head before I fell in too deep.
Then the words finally registered. “Wait… lads?”
How many people would it take to bring in this delivery?
It didn’t take long for me to figure it out.
A dozen guys walked in, wearing the same gray suit declaring them delivery men for Charlie’s Arboretum. In their hands were small pots of white Dendrobium Orchids. Each delicate stem must have had a dozen blooms on it, and at first, they put them on my desk. The first guy turned right around, and joined the back of the line, rotating through with more stems until my floor, the walls, the desks and shelves were covered in these plants. The sweet, subtle scent of it perfuming the air.
“Who sent these?” I asked the first man who had made me sign for the shipment.
“Eoghan Green, of course,” he said, as the final pot of orchids was delivered, and the men disappeared down the hall.
“Of course,” I mocked, because there was nothing obvious about it being from Eoghan Green. There was no card, and nothing that inherently declared that an Irish madman was doing something insane.
I went into a folder that contained the phone directory for the gallery. Eoghan’s number was at the top, listed as “owner”. I called him, and he picked up on the first ring.
“What is this?” I demanded, trying to figure out exactly how mad I should be.
“A thousand perfect orchids.” He sounded like that was the most obvious thing in the world. Like of course it was a thousand fucking orchids. What else could it be? “At least they better be. If a single blossom is missing, do let me know so I can deal with them.”
I froze, a shiver going up my spine. Was he threatening to kill someone over a fallen flower blossom?
“Deal with them… how?” I asked, through clenched teeth. My heart was beating out of my chest as I waited for his answer.
“A negative Yelp review, maybe.” I could hear his smirk on the other end of the line. Jesus, was everything a joke to him?
“And why are they in my office?” I was looking for a reason to stay angry because this was fucking insane!
But still, he was so charming. Warmth crept over my chest at the mere thought of him, ordering a thousand blossoms for me. No one had ever given me such a gesture.
“I was passing by a flower shop, and they made me think of you,” he said casually. “I finally figured out what your perfume smells like. It’s these orchids, no?”
He was right, but I didn’t want to tell his smug ass that.
“So, you bought me a thousand orchids.”
I had to say it out loud, hoping that he would hear how insane that was!
“Aye.” His voice was low and rumbling with that ancient affirmation. “A thousand orchids, to remind you of me.”
My tiny office was covered in white. It looked like it had snowed in here, with all the stark white blooms.
“I can’t possibly keep these in my office!” I wanted to yell, but couldn’t really put my back into it. “I don’t have a place to work. What am I supposed to do here?”
Eoghan’s chuckle in my ear sent a warm tingle down my neck. Even my nipples shamefully hardened at the sensual sound.
“Then give them to your friends, love,” he said coolly. “Display them in the gallery, take a few back to your apartment, or toss them out. Do as you please. They’re a gift.”
A gift that I could throw out? No, that sounded wrong. No one could possibly be that casual. No one could be that laid back.
“Why do you want me to think of you?” I asked, suddenly afraid. Of what? I wasn’t sure. Of his intensity and his obsession. Of how easily I was falling for it.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I could imagine him smirking through the phone.
It was obvious, I suppose. What could a man want with a woman, after all? They weren’t complicated creatures.
“And… if I fuck you, will you leave me alone?” There was a bitter edge to my voice. I had wanted to sound casual, and unaffected, but the idea he’d hit-it and quit-it made my jaw clench.
“What man made you think this way?” The playful tone of his voice melted away and was replaced with something darker. He sounded… dangerous. As dangerous as Cosima said he was. “Who made you feel like a conquest? Give me a name.”
He was already dead.
“No one.” I lied.
“I will find out, Miss Kekoa. You do him no favors by lying to me.”
“Why are you threatening people on my behalf? Why are you doing all of this? What have I done to… to…” To get the attention of the devil himself?
He didn’t speak for a few beats. But I could hear him breathing. So, I waited.
“You called me Master.”
“I called you a Master,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Doesn’t matter. You sealed your fate the moment you showed me that you know art. Truly know art.” My heartbeat against my ribs, trying to burst out. “You’re a rare thing, Miss Kekoa.”
“Am I the first woman who’s told you no?” The more intense his voice got, the more I wanted to defy him. The more I didn’t want to be in his spell, or his charisma.
I was a bit of space trash, getting stuck in the gravity of his large sun. If I didn’t change course, then I’d burn.
“Yes, you are.” I was surprised when he gave me an honest answer. “But that’s not why I’m sending you a thousand orchids. It’s because you’re going to be my wife.”
I rolled my eyes. Marriage again. What was with this guy?
I had never known a bachelor - especially a rich one - to be so casual about matrimony. What was his fucking damage?
“You remind me of The Kiss.” His words took me by surprise, but I was starting to understand him a little. He meant a painting.
“The Klimt?” I asked, meaning Gustav Klimt, who famously portrayed a kiss in the Art Nouveau style. A man adoringly cradled a woman’s face as he kissed her cheek, surrounded by gold and flowers.
“Ugh, no! Don’t talk to me about impressionists!” I could hear the disdain in his voice again, and it made me laugh. “Do you like impressionism, Miss Kekoa? Please, tell me no, or it will shatter my hopes and dreams for our marital bliss.”
I wanted to laugh. I didn’t like impressionism, outside of Salvador Dali. Even then, I only enjoyed some of his works.
“I don’t mind impressionism. I like Van Gogh.” A total lie made to irritate him.
“No, you don’t. Because you’re not a fucking pleb.”
I laughed, giving up the game.
I enjoyed flirting with art. I was surprised by that. No man had ever spoken to me about art the way he had. Despite the sensuality of the art form, rarely did it actually become seductive. It was too cerebral for most people, and because of that, it took too much effort to be sexy.
But not for Eoghan.
“The Kiss by Fracesco Hayez,” he finally said. “Do you know it?”
“It’s the most intense depiction of a kiss in Western Art,” I said mechanically, reciting something I had learned in Art History.
I liked that painting too. It was a good composition. But I couldn’t say that it made me swoon like some other bits of art.
“The very same,” Eoghan said, with a slight chuckle. “At first, you see the two lovers exchanging a passionate lip-lock. But if you examine further, you see his leg is poised on a step as though he’s ready to flee, with a dagger hidden in his mantle. In the far corner there are shadowy figures, as though there are guards approaching. Likely after the man himself.”
That was a perfect description of that painting, but I didn’t understand what his point was. I needed more information.
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“Other than you both sharing long, dark hair, and my overwhelming need to revisit that kiss you so rudely cut short…?” His low, slow chuckle made my thighs clench.
It was so fucking hot. It wasn’t fair that he was both handsome and talented, with a voice that promised sinful pleasures!
“It’s because you are surrounded by danger, and you don’t know it.” My heart leapt to my throat, and I held my breath. He was hitting too close to the mark. “Shadowy figures are around the corner, and all I want is to take you into my embrace and give you that same longing kiss.”
I touched my lips again. The memory of our passionate kiss made my body shiver with longing.
“It seems to be a painting about you, more than me,” I said in a whisper.
“That may be.”
I leaned forward in my seat, lightly touched a single orchid blossom, bringing my nose to it to take in the fragrance.
I looked around and decided that I would take his extravagant gift as a peace offering. There was no need for me to run away, right? He meant me no harm. I could continue the mission, and just… wait.
“I was going to resign today.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.
“Because of me?” He gave a low throaty sound, as if he was dismayed by my confession.
“Yes.”
“Are you still resigning, Miss Kekoa?”
“I don’t know.” I was losing my resolve. Again, I was a bit of space trash stuck in the orbit of a much bigger sun. “If you pursue me, my choices become giving in and losing my reputation, or resisting you and losing my reputation.”
“Or marrying me and becoming Mrs. Green. Then you’d own the whole lot.”
“Stop saying that.” I was suddenly desperate for him to stop with the talk of marriage. It couldn’t happen. Not just because of my work as a spy, but also because… because of a past he could never know about. A past that would make him think less of me.
A past that made me the conquest, and object he thought I wasn’t.
“I’ll stop when you marry me.” His answer cut through my thoughts, and the alarm bells in my mind sounded again. Mayday! Mayday! Abandon ship!
“You don’t even know me.”
“Let’s get married and I’ll get to know you.”
“You sound insane.”
“I am.”
“You don’t deny it?”
“Why would I? I feel no need to hide it.” There was that laugh again. It was so low, and gentle, but still with a sharpness that made my skin break out in goosebumps. Whether it was from fear, or something else, I wasn’t sure. “I’m a monster, Miss Kekoa. But I’ll be your monster, if you let me.”
“What if I say no?”
“You’ve been saying no, and I have yet to cause you harm.” He had a point.
“How long will that last? When will you get frustrated and resent me?” Then I asked the real question I wanted to ask, the one I needed reassurance on. “What if you find out something about me that you can’t forgive? That you can’t overlook?”
“There’s nothing you could do that could change my mind.” There was the sound of shuffling on the other end. I wondered if he was pacing, wherever he was. “I am not an inconsistent man. I am not fickle. I have made my choice.”
It was my turn to laugh. “That can’t be true.”
“I only speak the truth, Miss Kekoa. Whether or not you believe it is up to you.”