Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) (12 page)

* * * * *

After dodging several wrecks on I-35, the two finally made it to the design district where there were multitudes of interior designers and art galleries. The Craig Mueller Gallery was a big stone building that seemed rather nondescript. And really not in a very good part of town. As they parked and headed toward the building, Marion’s heart was in her throat, pounding hard. Her head pounded too. What was she thinking? Was she insane coming here? What would Graeme think when he saw her? She should be home, watching her DVR instead of chasing after some guy.

What if she didn’t
understand his art? For that matter, what if he was awful? Could she keep a straight face if she thought his work sucked?

“Still going through with it?” Delilah asked, giving her a sidelong glance.
It was as though she could read her thoughts.

“Yes,” Marion replied, sounding more sure than she felt. “Yes, I am.”

“All right then. Let’s hope they have cocktails. And lots of them.”

Inside the gallery
patrons mingled and—thankfully—held glasses of wine or champagne. Marion knew she would need more than one drink to give her the courage to get through this night. Especially if she intended to plan a seduction, which she hadn’t really figured out yet.

If only she could be more like Delilah who was always so sure of herself. She always knew the perfect innuendo in any situation
.

She
didn’t know what she was going to say to Graeme when she saw him.

The floors of the gallery were shiny black; overhead the exposed ductwork gave the building a modern feel. Freestanding walls painted white showcased the art
. In a special exhibit hall to the right were Graeme’s paintings. There was already an impressive crowd.

Finely dressed men and women mingled throughout the gallery, talking in hushed tones. They drank champagne and ate hors d’oeuvres of smoked salmon on a wafer thin cracker.
There were mini quiches and some kind of tartlet that passed by on a silver tray.

“He’s had quite the turn out already,” Delilah said, voicing Marion’s thought. “Impressive.”

“I was just thinking that.”

A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne flutes and Delilah flagged him, snagging two glasses. She handed one to Marion.

“What sort of paintings did you say he did?”

“
Fantasy art,” she said as they entered the room.

“You mean the kind with half-naked women?” Delilah asked.

The sight of his paintings made her forget any response. She couldn’t believe how many there were spaced evenly on the white walls. And they were all so amazing. The first one she paused to admire depicted what looked like a war from medieval times in the background. In the foreground, a beautiful black-eyed maiden stood on a grassy knoll, her long red hair flowing in the breeze, her pale white hand clasping a cloak at her neck. In her other hand, she held a blue-white orb extended toward the soldiers. White lighting burst from it, illuminating her face in that same glow. There was something about the painting that seemed as though Marion could reach out and touch the orb in her hand. The piece was entitled
Unearthly Maiden
.

“Wow,” she breathed.

And it simply was breathtaking.

Delilah stood rock still next to her, staring wide-eyed at the painting in awe. In fact, Marion saw her mouth agape.

All of Graeme’s paintings seemed to capture a time long ago but mixed an element of fantasy. Their depth gave them that three dimensional affect and she had to keep from reaching out and touching the paintings.

“He’s good,” Delilah said.

“Why do you sound surprised?”

“I don’t know, but I really am. How does he have time to do this? Didn’t you tell me he designed web pages?”

“That’s what he told me.” Marion sipped her champagne, feeling the bubbles on her throat. “Clearly, he didn’t tell me everything.”

“Clearly,” Delilah agreed.

“Marion?”

She recognized his voice from behind her and she froze. She didn’t want to turn around and see him yet she couldn’t stop herself. Slowly, she turned to the side and peered at him over the rim of her glass. She gave her best fake surprise.

“Graeme?”

He wore a pale green
button-down tailored shirt that molded beautifully to his muscular body. She could clearly see the outline of his biceps and chest muscles. The top two buttons were undone giving her a peek at what was underneath. She wasn’t quite sure what color his pants were since she couldn’t get past that shirt.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, smiling. “I never expected to see you here.”

“Oh…well, Delilah got tickets and since they were both free, we figured we’d check it out. You remember Delilah, right?”

Her friend glanced her way, surprise registering before she quickly overcame it and pasted on her best smile. “I remember you,” she purred. “It’s been a while.” She extended her hand.

“Sure, I remember her. Maid of honor at the wedding.” Graeme shook her hand. “Good to see you again.”

At the mention of the wedding, a stabbing pain went through her. Why did people have to keep bringing that up? That was in the past
. Sometimes she wished the past could be erased as easily as erasing a chalkboard. Marion downed her champagne and then wished immediately for another one.

“And I thought this would
be boring,” Delilah said, still putting on the charm. “Looks like there will be some good looking men here tonight, after all. Right, Marion?”

“Uh, right.” Marion never took her eyes off of him. “
So, Graeme, is this the work thing? I had no idea.”

“Yeah, I didn’t tell you.” He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and glanced around the room
before landing on Delilah. “What brings you here?”

Marion held her breath. They hadn’t rehearsed what their story would be, but she knew her friend was quick on her feet.

“I have an old boyfriend in the business,” Delilah said, lying coolly. “He sent me the invite, hoping I’d be charming enough to bring him. Too bad I’m not that charming.” She glanced around the gallery, appreciating the scenery of good-looking men. “Glad I didn’t too. There’s plenty of eye candy to keep me busy.”

Graeme laughed and Marion expelled the breath she’d been holding.
An uncomfortable silence lapsed and Marion wasn’t sure what to say next. Graeme wasn’t all that forthcoming with information either. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to figure out what to do next and feeling like a total fool.

“I’ll get us another drink,” Delilah said, even though her glass was still full. She took Marion’s empty and replaced it with hers.

Marion could swear she heard every click of Delilah’s heels as she walked away. Perhaps she could sense the tenseness between them and thought it best to make herself scarce so they could talk. At least, that’s what Marion thought but Graeme wasn’t making a move to explain anything to her.

“Why not?” she finally said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You think the fact you’re famous in the art world
isn’t important?”

“Oh, come on, Marion. I’m not famous.”
He waved it away, as if it were no big deal.

“Maybe I should quote your bio from the gallery’s website. I believe it said you were an ‘extraordinary new and young talent’ and that you were garnering ‘strong attention within and from outside the art world.’ And, as I recall, there was even something about your art being widely collected by institutions and individuals across the US.”

Graeme stared at her in utter disbelief. “That’s what it says, huh?”

“I was paraphrasing.” She sipped her champagne
, finally starting to feel the effects of the alcohol.

He gave her a knowing grin
.

“I didn’t know any of that. I didn’t even know you went to UNT and graduated with honors.”

“Top of my class.” He said it as if it were nothing more than a mere fact, not something of which he should be supremely proud.

Glancing away, she took notice of one of his nearby paintings called
Untamed Beauty
. It was another beautiful woman, dressed in a flowing white robe and golden armbands riding bareback on a unicorn that reared up on its back legs on a black background.

He expelled a breath. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Marion.
I’ve never talked about my art. I never thought I would be so well accepted. Even Ethan didn’t know,” he said.

“How could he not know? You guys were best friends,” she said, turning her attention back to him. That shirt was driving her insane. It took all her strength not to rip it
off his body.

“I met Ethan after college, after I got let go from one of my
part-time teaching gigs. I needed a job. He needed a graphic artist and a web designer. And since I had only dabbled in computers, he was willing to let me do some on-the-job training. Then I started doing web design and the rest is history.”

“But all this…” She waved her hand to encompass the entire room filled with his gorgeous paintings along with the rich, gorgeous people looking to score an original from an up
-and-coming artist. “When do you have time?”

He stepped closer, giving her a whiff of his cologne. Which only served to drive her more insane. “You want to know a little secret?” His voice was low, sultry and right in her ear
.

Marion
met his gaze and all she could do was nod. Her tongue was frozen in place.

“I don’t sleep a lot.” Graeme reached up, gently brushing back a lock of her hair from her shoulder.

His hand barely grazed her, leaving a burning aftermath. “Why’s that?” And why was she whispering? No one could hear their conversation and he stood only a few inches from her.

“I don’t know. Maybe you could help me figure that out sometime?”

Was that an innuendo? Marion’s flirting skills were certainly rusty. She probably wouldn’t recognize one if it jumped up and smacked her in the face.

“Since
we’re friends, right?” he continued.

Ouch
. Friends?

“Of course.” Her throat wanted to close up around the words. He left her breathless
.

Even though she told Delilah her relationship with Graeme was strictly physical, Marion knew she wanted to be more than friends. However, she may have screwed that up that night
after dinner with her shameless behavior. A pang of regret went through her. Somehow, she would have to figure out how to rectify things. Perhaps her planned seduction could be a beginning.

His hand landed on her waist then, slipping around behind her and resting in the small of her back. She gripped the champagne flute tight in her other hand until her
nail beds turned white and she thought the glass might shatter.

“We’ll have to find a time when we can do that. Won’t we?”

Time stood still and their entire surroundings disappeared. The sound, the sights, everything melted into one blur behind him.

“Maybe you should come home with me,” she suggested. There it was. The words burst out of her mouth before she could stop them and there was no turning back now
.

His gaze dipped to her lips and she licked them in anticipation that he might kiss her. She could only hope.

“I’m not sure about that.”

Her heart sank, the rejection hitting her harder than she cared to admit. She had high hopes for spending the night with Graeme. It was all she had thought about the last few days. Her fantasies were about to get the best of her.

“How about
you
come home with
me
?” he said, interrupting her thoughts.

And just like that, her heart went from nearly broken to pounding a wild tattoo. He leaned in, his lips on her ear
.

“I’ll show you my private collection,” he whispered, his breath warm and moist.

Marion thought she might faint. Now,
that
she did recognize as an innuendo.

His lips grazed her earlobe before he pulled away, his gaze meeting hers once again. “How does that sound?”

“Perfect, actually.”

“Good.” He released her and stepped away. “I have to mingle but don’t go away.”

“I’ll be right here.”

She watched him melt into the crowd, talking and shaking hands as he greeted others. He seemed in his element here. As though he were born to be a part of this world, like he belonged with the beautiful people surrounding them. And every now and then, he’d glance her way and give her a surreptitious wink. It made her knees turn to jelly.

So in order to keep steady, she downed the rest of her champagne.

“He’s a hunk.”

Delilah’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She removed the empty flute from Marion’s hand and replaced it with a full one.