Some Like it Easy (14 page)

Some were missing.

Grabbing clothes, she went in search of Mallory. Her roommate wasn’t home, though.
Dammit, she has an early class, too.
Heading to the hall, she went to Justin’s door and knocked. The bodyguard answered immediately. “Miss Novak?”

She didn’t correct him. Right now, she wanted his formality. “Do you have my paintings?”

His quizzical look didn’t seem feigned.

“Never mind.” Pivoting, she headed for George’s apartment. The door was locked, but she went back to her apartment and grabbed a key. Fifteen minutes later, she stood in George’s second bedroom and stared at her paintings spread around the room. Nearly fifteen of them propped against his walls—a variety of park scenes, cityscapes and even a rustic one of a stormy sky over bucolic arcadia.

Ice raced through her blood and she felt vaguely nauseated. On a desk, she found a stack of papers clipped neatly together—printed reproductions of her paintings. He’d labeled each with the painting name, date and medium, whether watercolor, acrylic or oil, followed by her name.

The pounding of her heart hurt like hell. When had he done it?
Why
? And why the hell hadn’t he told her?

Her phone rang and she glanced down at the device she’d fisted, having half-forgotten she carried it. George’s name appeared on the screen. Torn between declining the call and yelling at him, she chose the latter and answered it.

“What did you
do
?” she demanded. “Who did you send my portfolios to?” Didn’t he understand what she’d told him? How dare he open her up to humiliation all over again without even consulting her?

“Penny—”

“No, never mind. I don’t want to know. You know the part about talking and you just wanting to talk because you love the sound of my voice? Well, bullshit, princeypoo. If you wanted to talk, you would’ve told me what you were doing. You wouldn’t have done this to me.” Tears choked her last words and she hung up. The gallery wanted her to bring more work in so they could see the rest of it and turn her down.

Hang ten of her paintings—unless…
He sent them in, signed off on it as Andraste royal family work.
Yeah, they’d hang her paintings, but not because they wanted her work. No, they wanted the Andraste family name.
Dammit.

The tears still fell as she gathered her works and carted them back to her apartment. She could barely see past the tears.

I’m such an idiot.
She’d believed him when he’d said all those things. All the right things, and dammit…kicking the door three times, she ignored Justin when he appeared in the hall. It took her three trips to reclaim all of her paintings. Once in her apartment, she slammed and locked the door.

She’d trusted him. She’d let him in. Then he’d sold her out…the day he’d told her he loved her, she’d panicked. She had no idea how to respond. It had felt like the worst day ever.

Penny swiped at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. She’d been wrong.

Today was the worst ever—she realized he’d betrayed her and she loved him in the same breath.

Idiot.
She was still on the sofa when the door handle turned. It was locked, so it didn’t open. A minute later, a knock resonated, then… “Penny, open the door.”

Of course he’d come, but she refused to pander to her need to be miserable. At some point she’d become a masochist, how else to explain her current predicament? Another knock, then a few seconds later the tumblers gave and the door opened.

Crap
. He had a key.

“Get out,” she said, rising and trying to wipe away her tears. She’d already made a fool out of herself. “We’re done. We should have been done a long time ago, but I’m an idiot. So we’re done now.”

George said nothing, merely stared at her for a beat. He didn’t show any intention of leaving. Fine, she’d go to her room. She made it three steps before George caught her arm, turned her around and flipped her over his shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, simply marched her out of the apartment and into the hall where his security stood. Someone hurried to open his door and George said, “We’re not to be disturbed.”

“As you wish,” Grady answered.
Fantastic
. Her humiliation was complete. Inside his apartment, he shut the door and didn’t release her. Instead, he continued onward until he dropped her unceremoniously in the middle of the bed.

When she would have scooted off, he pinned her with a glare. “Don’t you dare. You can be pissed at me. You can throw things at me. You can yell. You can glare in icy silence, but you don’t get to walk away or shut me out. I love you. You don’t like that? Too bad.”

Glaring, she reached for a pillow. It was the nearest thing and she threw it at him. He caught it and tossed it back onto the bed.

“I was wrong. I did what I did before you told me your story.” His tone softened then, “But I’m sorry. I had no idea about what happened when I did it or how it might make you feel.”

“Really? You invade my privacy? Take
my
work and submit it and you didn’t think I’d have a problem with any of that?” He wasn’t stupid, far from it. Tension vised her skull and she couldn’t wrap her mind around his actions.

“What I did was inexcusable.” He didn’t even try to defend himself.

“Then why in the hell did you do it?”

“Because I thought you were scared—or worse, unaware of your talent. Of how truly, beautifully gifted you are. I found those paintings when I packed your bag for St. Christos, and I couldn’t get over how gorgeous they were.”

“So you thought,
what the hell, let’s submit this for the whole world to see
?” Acid burned up from her stomach, and even the beat of her heart seemed to hurt. “Because me burying them in the closet suggested I wanted anyone to see them, right? I trusted you.”

The last words seemed to hit their mark. He grimaced. “You
can
trust me. After you told me about the gallery owner and what he did, I tried to recall the portfolios I submitted, but I’d sent them to a half-dozen galleries…”

Oh, God.
Her humiliation wouldn’t end.

“I hadn’t heard back from all of them, but I’d hoped the phone call would be enough. What did they say to you?” His jaw tightened and he took a step closer. When she retreated, he stopped.

“It doesn’t matter. The only reason they want them is royalty submitted them. That’s almost worse than rejection…”

“Wait,” George held up a hand. “They wanted them?”

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter. Having them submitted by royalty means it could be a finger painting done by a toddler and they’d take it. The name sells more than the art.”

He laughed.

Seriously?
She glared at him. “You’re
laughing
at me?”
That is it. Enough.
Scrambling off the bed, she headed for the door. George caught her again, and she thumped his chest.

“Stop, sweetheart. I am not laughing at you, I promise.” The mirth in his eyes didn’t diminish as he caught her hands.

“Yes, you are. Let me go…”

“No.”

“Dammit, George, I’m serious. Let me go. You dragooned me into this relationship, fooled me into thinking you were serious, but no, you’re still princeypoo throwing your weight—”

His mouth covering hers silenced her diatribe. Her lips tingled from the brief contact and her damned tears started all over again.

“Firstly, don’t cry, sweetheart. I am genuinely, sincerely sorry I did something to hurt you. I will never knowingly you hurt you, you have my word.” He cupped her face, stroking away a tear with his thumb. She wanted to swat his hand away, but the depth of emotion in his voice stayed her. “Secondly, I did not submit those paintings with the Andraste name anywhere attached. I had Grady take care of the sending. It all came from your address, with your name and your letter of introduction. Not even a whiff of the family name was attached to the submissions.”

The second shock of the day rippled through her.

“Third, if they called wanting to see more of your work, they liked your work. If you take it in there and those fools can’t see your talent, then they don’t matter. If you never want to submit another painting anywhere, fine. I’ll buy you a gallery. Or I’ll buy you a house, so I can hang your work everywhere. You take my breath away and I love you. I wanted to help you, to show you same support and belief you gave me when the professor recommended my work.”

Swallowing around the hard lump in her throat, she said, “I didn’t submit your work without telling you.”

“I know. I wanted to surprise you. A grand gesture—” He bowed his head, touching his forehead to hers. “I am so sorry. I’d rather cut out my own heart than hurt you.”

“You make me so mad.” She blinked hard against the fresh onslaught of tears. “You move in here, turn my life upside down with your charm, and then you let me seduce you and nothing I did threw you out of my bed. No matter how hard I tried to deny it, I fell in love with you. Now, you do this and, dammit, George—”

“Rewind that statement.”

Swiping at her tears, she glared at him. “To which part?”

“You fell in love with me?” No teasing, no arrogance, only a genuine whispered inquiry.

“Well…” She sniffed and met his dark gaze. “You
are
a prince. Even better, you’re an amazing guy.”

“Say it again?” He cupped her chin.

“Are you deaf? I mean, I know you seemed to have…”

“Penny.”

He was right.
Enough games.
“I love you.”

“It’s about damned time.” He covered her mouth with his. The demand in his kiss refused her any quarter, and she clung to him. Raising his head, he swore lightly. “I thought you were never going to give.”

“I’m stubborn.”

“I know.” He caressed her cheek. “As it happens, so am I.”

She’d noticed. “But you can’t do that again, okay? No making decisions for me.”

“I promise, we’ll discuss them all. Argue. Debate. We’ll even agree to disagree as necessary. But we’ll do it together.” Every word increased the wild butterflies in her stomach.

“I’m scared,” she admitted. He meant so much to her. “If you change your mind…”

“Ask me again in ten years, I guarantee you my answer will be the same.” He punctuated his promise with another kiss.

“George?”

“Hmm?”

“They want my paintings…”

“Do they?” He grinned slowly. “Well, they can have your paintings. I want you.”

S
ix months later
…

“
I
t’s an impressive turnout
.” Armand had flown out to put in an appearance at the opening. Anna was restricted to bedrest, so the private plane remained on standby for Armand to fly back immediately after the show. “Though I admit I have no idea what is going on with this piece.” They stood before a canvas marked by two long red streaks.

George didn’t snort with the laughter he felt. Maintaining a neutral expression was easy enough. Across the room, Penny stood in the center of several admirers discussing her work. “It doesn’t matter whether we understand it or not. Art isn’t about explanation, but emotion.”

“And it’s not Penny’s,” Armand said agreeably.

“And it’s not Penny’s.” They touched glasses with a light clink. “How is my soon-to-be nephew or niece?”

“Making his mother cranky. She was most annoyed she couldn’t be here tonight.” In addition to Armand, Sebastian and his wife had flown in. Alyx hitched a ride with Armand, while her husband remained at home with their son.

Overall, his family made their presence known in support of the local artist gala event. Penny’s paintings featured in the
Hot in the City
showing earned her a spot at the Cannon’s autumn event.

“Oh, before I forget…” Armand reached inside his jacket and withdrew an envelope. He passed it over without ceremony. “Richard’s drawing up the papers, but I’ve reinstated your trust and accounts. You’ll find your cards have also been reactivated.”

“I pass one semester, enroll in a second and I’m qualified to manage my finances again?”

“I wouldn’t have put it that way.”

“But yes,” Sebastian said as he joined them. “You’ve grown up, George. Take his compliment the way he means it.”

Chuckling, George raised his glass in acknowledgement and slanted a sideways look toward Penny. Justin stayed with her, O’Connor also on site for the evening. “Then I shall say thank you, but I plan to continue as I have.”

“As you wish,” Armand said. “When you’re ready and if you’re interested, I have a job for you.”

“I shall keep that in mind.” He’d yet to inform his brother of his writing career. He’d sold several more articles on the continued political turmoil and growing pains in Belaria, all under a pseudonym. Professor Lehrman, his new academic advisor, helped him obtain credits for his life experience. By spring, he would officially be a Junior at the university. He had moved into Penny’s apartment when Mallory moved out. For appearances sake, he maintained his original apartment as well, but they never slept there.

“Are you going to ask that girl to marry you?” Sebastian asked.

“Mother bothering you again?” With Armand’s child so soon to be delivered, their mother had begun a quiet campaign to encourage Sebastian and Meredith to embrace parenthood.

“No, she’s taken a break. Apparently Rose has begun another rebellious streak.” Their cousin had a wild reputation, which rivaled any of theirs. “Not to mention, I suggested she should invite you and Penny to join her for the holidays.”

Penny would kill him—then again, maybe not. She
had
mentioned wanting to spend time in Europe.

Armand laughed and patted his shoulder. “Let her talk about her dreams for your wedding, but keep it noncommittal. It will make her happy. Sebastian is right, though. Anna will want to know…”

Raising his hand, George silenced his brothers. “We’re not on a timetable. Penny and I are happy. You two can carry the future of the family name quite well.”

“Impressive,” Armand said with a sly look at Sebastian.

“Quite,” Sebastian agreed. “He’s finally mastered the polite way to tell us to bugger off.”

He loved his brothers and didn’t often have a chance to show them. “If you’ll excuse me, my future is waiting.”

Leaving them smiling, he crossed the room to Penny. She chatted with a potential buyer, but her expression lit up when their gazes locked. With a quiet murmur, she excused herself before meeting George halfway.

“Having fun?” He asked, lifting her hand to brush a kiss to her knuckles. The sapphire ring on her right hand was brand new, worn on the right ring finger rather than the left, which kept all questions and speculation at bay.

“I am now.” She grinned wider. “You?”

“Happiest man alive.”

Slipping an arm around her waist, he began the wonderful task of escorting her around the room. He didn’t care where they lived or what they did, as long as they were together.

Penny was his happily-ever-after, stubborn arguments and all.