deal? He’s a god, in a word.”
Francesca smirked. “Not much for understatement, are you?”
Zoe broke into laughter. Francesca joined her. For a moment they were just two young women giggling over the most handsome man at the party. Which Ian Noble was, Francesca conceded. Forget the party. He was the most arresting man she’d ever seen in her life.
Her laughter ceased when she noticed Zoe’s expression. She turned. Noble’s gaze was directly on her. A hot, heavy sensation expanded in her belly. She didn’t have time to draw breath before he was stalking across the room toward her, leaving a surprised-looking Lin in his wake.
Francesca experienced a ridiculous urge to run.
“Oh . . . he’s headed this way . . . Lin must have told him who you were,” Zoe said, sounding as bewildered and caught off guard as Francesca felt. Zoe was more practiced in the art of social elegance than Francesca, however. By the time Noble reached them, all traces of the giggling girl were gone and in its place stood a contained, beautiful woman.
“Mr. Noble, good evening.”
His eyes were a piercing cobalt blue. They flicked off Francesca for a split second. She managed to suck some air into her lungs during the reprieve.
“Zoe, isn’t it?” he asked.
Zoe couldn’t hide her pleasure at the fact that Noble had known her name. “Yes, sir. I work in Imagetronics. May I introduce Francesca Arno, the artist you chose as the winner in the Far Sight Competition.”
He took her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Arno.”
Francesca just nodded. She couldn’t speak. Her brain was temporarily overloaded by the image of him, the warmth of his encompassing hand, the sound of his low, British-accented voice. His skin was pale next to his dark, stylishly coiffed, short hair and gray suit. Dark Angel. The words flew into her brain, unbidden.
“I can’t tell you how impressed I am with your work,” he said. No smile. No softness in his tone, even if there was a sharp curiosity in his stare.
She swallowed uneasily. “Thank you.” He released her hand slowly, causing his skin to slide against hers. A horrible moment of silence passed as he just looked at her. She gathered herself and straightened her spine.
“I’m glad to have this opportunity to thank you in person for awarding me the commission. It means more to me than I can convey.” She said the rehearsed words in a pressured fashion.
He gave an almost imperceptible shrug and waved his hand negligently. “You earned it.” He held her stare. “Or at least you will.”
She felt her pulse leap at her throat and hoped he didn’t notice.
“I earned it, yes. But you gave me the opportunity. It’s that I’m trying to express my thanks for. I probably wouldn’t have been able to afford the second year of my master’s program if you hadn’t given me this chance.”
He blinked. From the corner of her vision, Francesca noticed Zoe stiffen. Francesca glanced away in embarrassment. Had she sounded sharp?
“My grandmother often says I’m ungracious in the face of gratitude,” he said, his voice quieter . . . warmer. “You’re right to scold me. And you’re also very welcome for the opportunity, Ms. Arno,” he said, giving a nod of acknowledgement. “Zoe, would you mind taking a message to Lin for me? I’ve decided to cancel dinner with Xander LaGrange after all. Please have her reschedule.”
“Of course, Mr. Noble,” Zoe said before she walked away.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asked, nodding at an unoccupied circular leather booth.
“Sure.”
He waited behind her while she scooted into the booth. She wished he wouldn’t. She felt awkward and ungainly. After she’d settled, he slid beside her in one graceful, swooping motion. Francesca smoothed the gauzy skirt of the vintage beaded baby-doll dress she’d bought at a secondhand store in Wicker Park. The early September evening had been cooler than she’d expected when planning for the
Francesca smirked. “Not much for understatement, are you?”
Zoe broke into laughter. Francesca joined her. For a moment they were just two young women giggling over the most handsome man at the party. Which Ian Noble was, Francesca conceded. Forget the party. He was the most arresting man she’d ever seen in her life.
Her laughter ceased when she noticed Zoe’s expression. She turned. Noble’s gaze was directly on her. A hot, heavy sensation expanded in her belly. She didn’t have time to draw breath before he was stalking across the room toward her, leaving a surprised-looking Lin in his wake.
Francesca experienced a ridiculous urge to run.
“Oh . . . he’s headed this way . . . Lin must have told him who you were,” Zoe said, sounding as bewildered and caught off guard as Francesca felt. Zoe was more practiced in the art of social elegance than Francesca, however. By the time Noble reached them, all traces of the giggling girl were gone and in its place stood a contained, beautiful woman.
“Mr. Noble, good evening.”
His eyes were a piercing cobalt blue. They flicked off Francesca for a split second. She managed to suck some air into her lungs during the reprieve.
“Zoe, isn’t it?” he asked.
Zoe couldn’t hide her pleasure at the fact that Noble had known her name. “Yes, sir. I work in Imagetronics. May I introduce Francesca Arno, the artist you chose as the winner in the Far Sight Competition.”
He took her hand. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Arno.”
Francesca just nodded. She couldn’t speak. Her brain was temporarily overloaded by the image of him, the warmth of his encompassing hand, the sound of his low, British-accented voice. His skin was pale next to his dark, stylishly coiffed, short hair and gray suit. Dark Angel. The words flew into her brain, unbidden.
“I can’t tell you how impressed I am with your work,” he said. No smile. No softness in his tone, even if there was a sharp curiosity in his stare.
She swallowed uneasily. “Thank you.” He released her hand slowly, causing his skin to slide against hers. A horrible moment of silence passed as he just looked at her. She gathered herself and straightened her spine.
“I’m glad to have this opportunity to thank you in person for awarding me the commission. It means more to me than I can convey.” She said the rehearsed words in a pressured fashion.
He gave an almost imperceptible shrug and waved his hand negligently. “You earned it.” He held her stare. “Or at least you will.”
She felt her pulse leap at her throat and hoped he didn’t notice.
“I earned it, yes. But you gave me the opportunity. It’s that I’m trying to express my thanks for. I probably wouldn’t have been able to afford the second year of my master’s program if you hadn’t given me this chance.”
He blinked. From the corner of her vision, Francesca noticed Zoe stiffen. Francesca glanced away in embarrassment. Had she sounded sharp?
“My grandmother often says I’m ungracious in the face of gratitude,” he said, his voice quieter . . . warmer. “You’re right to scold me. And you’re also very welcome for the opportunity, Ms. Arno,” he said, giving a nod of acknowledgement. “Zoe, would you mind taking a message to Lin for me? I’ve decided to cancel dinner with Xander LaGrange after all. Please have her reschedule.”
“Of course, Mr. Noble,” Zoe said before she walked away.
“Would you like to sit down?” he asked, nodding at an unoccupied circular leather booth.
“Sure.”
He waited behind her while she scooted into the booth. She wished he wouldn’t. She felt awkward and ungainly. After she’d settled, he slid beside her in one graceful, swooping motion. Francesca smoothed the gauzy skirt of the vintage beaded baby-doll dress she’d bought at a secondhand store in Wicker Park. The early September evening had been cooler than she’d expected when planning for the
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