Obsession by Bonnie Vanak Page A

a gilded frame containing a whimsical oil painting of a wolf chasing a butterfly. “Interesting subject matter.”
    Raphael joined her. “I had that one commissioned by Pierre LaFontant LaRue.”
    She was no art connoisseur, but even she’d heard of the famed Parisian Lupine who commanded seven figures for his work.
    “Why this scene? I thought he painted wolves in packs, never alone.”
    Brief emotion shadowed his dark gaze. “It was important to me.”
    A lone wolf. No photos. A beautiful, but impersonal house. Everything screamed layers upon layers, as if Raphael’s home wasn’t his castle, but a refuge to hide the real Lupine.
    “Where’s your family picture?”
    Brows raised, he studied her. “Why do you ask?”
    “I love looking at family photos.” Jessica grew wistful. “The Tyrells have me in their photos, but I always stick out with my hair.”
    His suspicious look faded. “You have beautiful hair, Jessica.”
    Lost in thought, she barely heard the compliment. “I tried dying it once to blend in. Didn’t work. The dye didn’t take. So I went online and found a stock photo of a red-headed family and printed it out and stuck it in a frame. It was silly, but it made me feel less like a stain on a white shirt.”
    Why had she confessed that? Jessica flinched, realizing she’d lowered her barriers. Raphael gently gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. The contact made her shiver with awareness.
    “You are not a stain. You are Lupine, proud, strong and perhaps far too intelligent for your own good.”
    Releasing her chin, he walked to the table and pulled out a chair. “Sit.”
    Jessica stared at the folders filled with dread. “Oh no…”
    “File those. My assistant is on vacation for the next two weeks.” Judging from the gleam in his eyes, he knew how much she loathed paperwork.
    As he sat at the larger desk, she sighed, opened a folder and shuffled through it. Mundane paperwork. Utility bills, receipts for trail rides, sales of organic honey the ranch sold.
    Jessica began to organize the papers, darting glances at Raphael, who worked on his laptop. “Most businesses don’t have archaic systems. Everything is digital and backed up by a cloud.”
    “The Double B Ranch is not only a business. It is run by a billionaire Lupine who needs to protect his privacy. J.J. does not trust clouds.”
    He went to the iPod player sitting on a bookshelf, pushed a button. Music blared through the speakers. It was Jessica’s turn to look surprised.
    “Foo Fighters? You look more like the classical music type. Urbane. Silk suits with the cowboy boots. Cigar smoking. Brandy swigging.”
    He shrugged. “I downloaded the album for one song.”
    Curiosity bit. It made her wonder what particular song he liked. Instinct told her Raphael wouldn’t tell. He looked wistful, as if pondering old regrets.
    “Then again, you do have that kind of Dave Grohl look. Except your hair isn’t as long.” She tapped a finger against her upper lip. “And your mustache is a little wilted.”
    Raphael sputtered. “I assure you, little Red, nothing on my body is wilted. ”
    Favoring him with a searching look, she smiled. “I have to agree.”
    He shook his head, and muttered below his breath, but at least his melancholy look had vanished.
    Digging through the files, she started sorting through the mess of papers. After a while, the strains of Friend of Friend drifted through the speakers. Such a sad song.
    The sounds of typing on the laptop ceased.
    She looked up. Raphael stared into space, his expression sorrowful. It hurt to look at him. Then, as if he sensed she watched, he glanced over. As her gaze dropped to the file folders, the sounds of typing returned.
    After two hours, Raphael still typed away on the laptop. She’d organized all the papers and filed most of them. Jessica itched to get her hands on that keyboard and search for her brother. But he pushed away from the desk and looked up. “Lunchtime. I