Close Up by Erin McCarthy Page A

was screwed either way. Her best option was to deal with the guests first and hope that Sean would run interference with Ebbe. If he could pry himself away from the sexy sushi smorgasbord.
    She opened the door and greeted the guests as quickly and politely, as possible, ushering the dozen early arrivals into the gallery.
    It was a decision that proved to be the wrong one because all it did was allow everyone who had just entered to see her mother fighting off the security guard Sean had clearly sent over to speak to her.
    “Let me go, you oaf!” Ebbe yelled as the man took a firm hold of her arm and tried to escort her toward the back room. They grappled with the tie around her wrap dress. “I’m an American. I have rights! If the buffet girls are naked and the photos are naked, why can’t I be? Double standards! So typical of a man.”
    “What on earth?” one of the guests asked, her hand fluttering to her cleavage. “Is this performance art?”
    “Yes,” Kristine said, seizing the opportunity to explain her mother’s outburst. Had her mother been intending to drop her dress and go naked? Good grief. “Yes, it is. We’re tying it into the brutality of women’s cancers.” God help her for the lie, but it was in the best interest of the success of the event.
    “Oh, I see.” The woman and her husband nodded. “Very thought provoking.”
    That was one way to put it. Kristine tried not to gasp as a whole lot of Ebbe bounced around while she tussled with the security guard. She wasn’t even sure what to do at this point. Terrified to see Ian Bainbridge’s reaction, she couldn’t even bring herself to look in his direction.
    But then she saw Sean take charge of the situation and her mother by waving off the security guard and bending over to speak to Ebbe. To her surprise, Ebbe actually paused to listen to him, her arms no longer flapping around in protest.
    Feeling a little less frantic, Kristine ushered the guests farther into the gallery. “Help yourself to champagne and sushi and meet our guest of honor, photographer Ian Bainbridge.”
    Her voice sounded almost normal, and she was impressed with herself.
    When Sean and Ebbe disappeared into the back room she let out a huge sigh of relief.
    June waved her over and Kristine went to her boss. “Who in God’s name was that?” June asked.
    “I have no idea,” Kristine lied. “Good thing we have security.”
    “That wasn’t our spray paint fiend, was it?”
    “No, I’m confident of that.” She was, thankfully. Ebbe wouldn’t have been so sly about her vandalism. She would have owned it straight up. This was clearly the work of someone else entirely, though she had no idea who it could be. The woman in the pictures, she supposed.
    But either way, Kristine had a feeling she was going to owe Sean for escorting Ebbe away, and she had a pretty good idea of what he would ask for in repayment.
    Which he confirmed when he came back out ten minutes later and strolled over to her, his jacket still off, hands in pockets, as if nothing was out of the ordinary whatsoever. Leaning in close to her, he stated, “I may need therapy after that, but Ebbe is now safely ensconced in my car with a guard, playing solitaire on her cell phone.”
    “Really?” That seemed too easy. “Thank you.”
    Sean eyed her. “You seem to say that a lot to me. It’s very polite. I don’t want polite.”
    Kristine bit her lip. “This isn’t the time...my mother is distracting me.”
    “Your mother is distracting me, too, when I only want to focus on you. Come to the lake with me,” he demanded. “Make me forget about everything but you.”
    She shivered. He was invading her space without hesitation and she was very aware of his masculinity, the way he towered over her, making her feel smaller and feminine. Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was the gratitude she felt for everything he had done in the past couple of days, including not being angry with her. Not much anyway. There