the closer she got to the painting the less of a sense of it she had. The festive feeling melted into blobs and streaks of oil paint, nothing more. After inspecting a few more paintings in the gallery, she realised this was the artist’s intended effect: the paintings were meant to be viewed from a distance, rather than up close.
Kind of like her and Aaron. From a distance, they looked okay. Like a couple. She’d seen a few women shoot her speculative and even envious looks, and part of her had wanted to laugh, even while another part of couldn’t help but preen.
Yes, I’m with him, the most handsome and enigmatic man in the room
.
Except she wasn’t with him, not really. Not at all.
She watched him covertly from across the room, talking to a few of his clients. He looked intent and serious and still so unbearably attractive, with his dark hair and eyes, his stern mouth, his broad shoulders. He was devastating in a tuxedo.
As if he sensed her looking at him, he glanced up and his steely gaze locked with hers for a moment, his expression utterly unreadable, and then he looked away. Zoe felt herself deflate. What had she been hoping for—a smile? A wink? Neither, unfortunately, were Aaron’s style, and yet her stupid heart kept insisting on hoping.
By half past ten her feet were killing her—as gorgeous as the stilettos were, comfort was clearly not their concern—and she was nearly swaying with exhaustion.
Aaron approached her, one hand sliding firmly under her elbow. ‘You look like you’re about to fall over.’
‘I feel like it too,’ Zoe admitted with a small smile that ended on a tired sigh.
‘Let me take you home.’
Home
. She thought of that stark penthouse apartment where she’d already spent so many lonely days and nights. Was that home now? Would it ever be home?
Still, it was rather nice to have Aaron acting a little protective of her as he guided her from the gallery to his waiting car.
‘How does your driver never get a parking ticket?’ she asked as she slid inside. ‘He’s always double-parked.’
‘He’s very good,’ Aaron answered. ‘And he’s not double-parked for long—I text him right before I need him to arrive.’
‘A good use for your phone,’ she said rather sleepily, for in the warm interior of the car, the leather so soft and luxurious, she felt as if she could almost fall right asleep.
‘Come here,’ Aaron said almost roughly, and he put hisarm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. She nestled against him instinctively, her head on his shoulder, her body snuggled against his muscular side. It felt so good to be held; to breathe in the warm, musky male scent of him; to feel the solid strength of his arm around her, drawing her close, protecting and even cherishing her.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, her eyes drifting closed. ‘For taking me to the gallery. I enjoyed it.’
‘Did you?’ Aaron sounded as gruff as always, but underneath Zoe thought she heard a thread of amusement, maybe even tenderness. Or was she just being fanciful—again? Probably. ‘The last twenty minutes you looked like you were in agony.’
‘These shoes hurt,’ she admitted and wiggled them off, stretching her toes with a sigh of bliss.
‘Ah. Sorry about that.’
‘Did you pick the shoes out too?’
‘The shop assistant suggested them to me.’
‘Well, I love them, no matter how much they pinch.’
‘I didn’t mean to make your feet hurt.’ She felt Aaron’s hand slide down her calf and then his strong fingers were kneading the aching muscles of her feet and Zoe couldn’t keep from letting out a groan of sheer pleasure. Aaron chuckled softly. ‘Feels good?’
‘Heaven.’ She nestled closer and neither of them spoke as Aaron massaged her feet. Zoe fell into a doze, happier than she’d been in a long while.
She didn’t know how long it had been when Aaron was gently nudging her awake. ‘We’re here,’ he said quietly. ‘Can you make it
Kind of like her and Aaron. From a distance, they looked okay. Like a couple. She’d seen a few women shoot her speculative and even envious looks, and part of her had wanted to laugh, even while another part of couldn’t help but preen.
Yes, I’m with him, the most handsome and enigmatic man in the room
.
Except she wasn’t with him, not really. Not at all.
She watched him covertly from across the room, talking to a few of his clients. He looked intent and serious and still so unbearably attractive, with his dark hair and eyes, his stern mouth, his broad shoulders. He was devastating in a tuxedo.
As if he sensed her looking at him, he glanced up and his steely gaze locked with hers for a moment, his expression utterly unreadable, and then he looked away. Zoe felt herself deflate. What had she been hoping for—a smile? A wink? Neither, unfortunately, were Aaron’s style, and yet her stupid heart kept insisting on hoping.
By half past ten her feet were killing her—as gorgeous as the stilettos were, comfort was clearly not their concern—and she was nearly swaying with exhaustion.
Aaron approached her, one hand sliding firmly under her elbow. ‘You look like you’re about to fall over.’
‘I feel like it too,’ Zoe admitted with a small smile that ended on a tired sigh.
‘Let me take you home.’
Home
. She thought of that stark penthouse apartment where she’d already spent so many lonely days and nights. Was that home now? Would it ever be home?
Still, it was rather nice to have Aaron acting a little protective of her as he guided her from the gallery to his waiting car.
‘How does your driver never get a parking ticket?’ she asked as she slid inside. ‘He’s always double-parked.’
‘He’s very good,’ Aaron answered. ‘And he’s not double-parked for long—I text him right before I need him to arrive.’
‘A good use for your phone,’ she said rather sleepily, for in the warm interior of the car, the leather so soft and luxurious, she felt as if she could almost fall right asleep.
‘Come here,’ Aaron said almost roughly, and he put hisarm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. She nestled against him instinctively, her head on his shoulder, her body snuggled against his muscular side. It felt so good to be held; to breathe in the warm, musky male scent of him; to feel the solid strength of his arm around her, drawing her close, protecting and even cherishing her.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, her eyes drifting closed. ‘For taking me to the gallery. I enjoyed it.’
‘Did you?’ Aaron sounded as gruff as always, but underneath Zoe thought she heard a thread of amusement, maybe even tenderness. Or was she just being fanciful—again? Probably. ‘The last twenty minutes you looked like you were in agony.’
‘These shoes hurt,’ she admitted and wiggled them off, stretching her toes with a sigh of bliss.
‘Ah. Sorry about that.’
‘Did you pick the shoes out too?’
‘The shop assistant suggested them to me.’
‘Well, I love them, no matter how much they pinch.’
‘I didn’t mean to make your feet hurt.’ She felt Aaron’s hand slide down her calf and then his strong fingers were kneading the aching muscles of her feet and Zoe couldn’t keep from letting out a groan of sheer pleasure. Aaron chuckled softly. ‘Feels good?’
‘Heaven.’ She nestled closer and neither of them spoke as Aaron massaged her feet. Zoe fell into a doze, happier than she’d been in a long while.
She didn’t know how long it had been when Aaron was gently nudging her awake. ‘We’re here,’ he said quietly. ‘Can you make it
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