“We’ll bring him. You just worry about bringing Cato.” Click.
The second the line went dead, I dashed to the toilet—and barely made it to the bowl before I threw up.
“What do you think?” I set up the paintings on the table so he could get a good look at each of them.
Cato stood beside me, but his eyes were glued to me—not the artwork I’d selected for him. “Beautiful.”
I hid my smile, but the grin still crept through. “I meant the paintings. I think they’ll look nice in the upstairs parlor.”
He shrugged. “I don’t give a shit about the paintings.” He moved in front of me, his back to the three gorgeous pieces, and he placed his fingers underneath my chin so he could lift my lips toward his. “I give a shit about you.”
“Well, do you want them or not?”
“Yes.” He leaned down and kissed me softly on the mouth. “I trust your taste, baby.”
“This is your home. The only taste you should trust is your own.”
His thumb swiped across my bottom lip before his fingers wrapped around my neck. “This is what my taste is. Naked portraits of you all over the house. In every room. So should we do it my way or your way?”
“Well, you wouldn’t be able to afford all those naked portraits of me—because I’m not for sale.”
He moved closer to me as his eyes narrowed. Now the emotions that were once mysterious were easy to read. His look was full of possession, a passion so hot that it burned the air around us. “Maybe that’s why I want you so much—because I can’t buy you.” He moved into me and kissed me again, his hand snaking into my hair. We’d barely talked about work for fifteen minutes before it changed into this…our unstoppable attraction.
Bates announced his presence when he cleared his throat. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”
Out of defiance, Cato finished the kiss before he slowly pulled away. “You would have to be important to be an interruption. And you aren’t important.”
Bates was in a black suit, dangerous and handsome like his brother. He had the same eyes and the same coldness—but he was definitely more arctic. His hands were in his pockets, and he glanced at me with obvious dislike. “I have Mr. Wong on a conference call. Thought you’d want to say a few words.”
Cato pulled away from me. “You can hang these, Siena.” He walked out the door.
Unfortunately, Bates didn’t follow him. He came to my side and looked at the paintings I selected. “These are lovely.”
“Thank you.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I think they’ll be great additions to the upstairs parlor.”
“Yes. A beautiful room that no one ever uses.”
Bates had made me uncomfortable since the day I met him, but not because he seemed like a predator. He was just much more suspicious than his brother, much more paranoid. He didn’t like me one bit, and it was obvious. I was terrified he would see right through me. I just hoped I would be able to save my father before that time came.
“Cato isn’t just my brother. He’s my best friend. He’s my business partner. There’s no one in the world I trust more than him—and that feeling is mutual.” He turned his head my way slightly. “I don’t understand his fascination with your cunt, and I also don’t like it. My brother might not see through your lies, but I do. If you think you’re going to play him for a fool, you’re wrong—because I’ll never let that happen. I’ll carve your heart out of your ass and shove it up that pretty little cunt of yours.”
Before I could respond, Cato reentered the room. He must have picked up on the hostility in the air because his eyes shifted back and forth between us, like an earthquake had struck and he could feel the aftershocks. “Everything alright?”
“I was just telling Siena the paintings are nice, but I don’t think too many people will see them.” As if he hadn’t just grotesquely threatened me, he lied so easily, the words rolling off his tongue with no effort.
Cato’s eyes shifted to me, like he didn’t believe his own brother. “Baby?”
I suspected Cato would believe me if I told him the truth, but I didn’t want to turn him against his own brother. Maybe Bates was an asshole, but he was trying to protect his brother. He was loyal—and right on the money. It didn’t matter how much Bates insulted me, I still respected him. “Your brother doesn’t appreciate art. I’ll leave it at that.” I gave Cato a smile in the hope he would believe me.
Cato did. “I could have told you that.” His hand moved to the small of my back as he came close to me. “Let’s get these paintings up. I’m sure Giovanni would be happy to help you.”