Chapter 12 #2
“Ah, of course and I completely understand. Then I have a question for you. A choice.”
Her laugh was spontaneous. “Alright. What is the offer?”
“Would you like to dance, or would you prefer going somewhere less conspicuous?”
“Before I answer your question, I’d like one to mine.”
I started to ask her to refresh my memory before realizing what she needed to place any trust in me.
“Christian Tempest.”
If my name and the power behind it registered, she hid it well. She nodded before offering me her hand. When I accepted, I certainly wasn’t surprised her handshake was as strong if not more so than a man’s.
“Penelope Michaels.”
I didn’t force the issue, keeping my promise as to allowing her the choice.
But I had to admit both my patience and my generosity were wearing thin. Not because she didn’t deserve the gesture, but because I’d never offered it before.
The moment and realization were both fascinating.
“Caspian Trent.”
With a slight cock of my head, I waited to see where she’d go with this.
“I’m right. Aren’t I? You’re the artist and the reason I was awarded a very expensive painting for a nonexistent collection.”
“I’m not certain what you mean.” I found it difficult to keep a straight face.
“Please, Mr. Tempest. I’m no fool. You knew I’d placed a bid on the painting, five big dollars.
Obviously, there was no way for me to be awarded the bid since the charity catered to the rich and famous.
That’s why you were there. Of course. You’re part of the Triton Group.
Yet no one knows you’re an artist. I find that fascinating. Why?”
“Why?” This was more delightful than I’d envisioned.
“Why insist I win the bid? Trying to impress me?”
“Were you?”
Her smile was coy. “I’m not easily impressed even with such a… tempting painting, but I do thank you. I’ll have some inspiration when I work. My real curiosity is about why you hide the fact you’re a brilliant painter. Because of who you are?”
“And who am I?”
The way she looked at me was more condescending than anyone had dared offer in most of my professional career.
If it were a man, I’d crush him, but with her, I hungered.
“Mr. Tempest,” she cooed. “While I don’t know much about you, I do know that your net worth is somewhere just over a billion dollars and that you’ve successfully taken Tempest International into an entirely different level of hospitality, far exceeding the profits and notoriety of even your closest competition. ”
“Interesting. When did you know who I was?” There was the fuel for deceit, but I’d yet to be convinced.
“Don’t flatter yourself if you believe I was stalking you, perhaps purposely tossing my coffee on your freshly laundered shirt.”
“Stalking?” Could she tell my cock was almost fully aroused? “Such a harsh word.”
“I’m certain given your powerful aura you have plenty of women who do. While sexy in books, the practice is annoying in real life.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “From time to time I have my share of women who invade my privacy and stalking does have a twisted sense of dark excitement some people find exciting.”
The shimmer in her eyes indicated she was someone who did.
“What a shame I’m not rich. Therefore, you would find me boring.”
“There is nothing boring about you, Penelope. Quite the opposite.”
“Well, while it would be nice to have money, I’m perfectly capable of making my way in the world. Even if it might take me a little longer than I’d originally hoped. The question stands. Are you worried your paintings will be considered a weakness?”
I lifted my glass in both appreciation and respect. “Touché, Penelope. And please call me Christian. If a round of hot coffee doesn’t put us on a first-name basis, then perhaps nothing would.”
“Fair enough. As long as you answer the question.”
“You play hard ball. I like that. I’ll let you in on a little secret.
You are correct in that there are plenty of my enemies who would enjoy using my erotic style artistry as a ploy to win bids on various pieces of real estate I’m interested in.
But that’s child’s play for me. I have to satisfy an endless dark passion that even sex can’t fulfill. ”
Did she know the filthy thoughts I had, the desire to fuck her right here in front of everyone?
My answer was honest, more so than I’d ever given anyone.
She darted her tongue across her bottom lip. “Why not sports to ease the… pain?”
“I’ve played hockey, basketball, even taken up boxing. Very little satisfies me. Only painting, and women who understand my needs are entirely different than most.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, it is. I hope you’re pleased with the painting. It’s a favorite piece of mine.”
“It’s stunning and I love it.”
“Good. Now, how about that dance?”
She took a deep breath while keeping her eyes locked onto mine. “While I very much enjoy dancing, for tonight I would prefer getting to know you. Much better.”
As my balls tightened, the predator breached the surface. “Then come with me.”
I wasn’t about to tell her that as of now, there was no turning back.