“You stood up for them, Faye.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “No way, Zantar. You did. I was the one begging you to leave it alone. You have a very selective memory if you are saying I did anything other than cower and beg you to leave it alone. I was too worried about losing my job and my meager income.” She sighed, pushing her hands back under the table where he couldn’t see them any longer. “And I’m truly grateful for your help with the medical leave as well as being able to keep my job. Without that income, I couldn’t finish my dissertation research. So thank you!”
“It is my honor,” he replied. “Tell me more about your research. Will you spend more time at the museum over the next week now that you don’t have to work at the hotel?”
Relief that she didn’t have to leave Skyla, that she could continue her research hit her with a thud. Her smile brightened and she almost laughed. “Yes!” Efin arrived with their coffee, smiling and bowing as he backed away.
Immediately, she sat up and poured for both of them, adding cream and sugar to her cup, but leaving his without any additions.
“What will you do with the extra time over the next week?”
Faye wrapped her hands around the now-warm ceramic cup of coffee. “I can’t wait to get into the details a bit more. I always had to pay attention to the time so I could hurry out of the museum in time to get to the hotel for my shift. But now I can just lose myself in the paintings and maybe find more answers. I intend to spend half of my time at the museum and half of it in the library.”
“And your evenings with me,” he finished for her, lifting his cup of coffee to take a long, satisfied sip.
Her smile widened and she tilted her head slightly. “And my evenings with you,” she agreed softly.
They talked about her research after that. Faye explained about the newest symbols she’d found in the paintings. She discovered that he’d looked up information on her artist and knew about the paintings she’d referenced during their conversation. It warmed her heart that he’d taken the time to do that. It proved to her that she was special to him and not just some woman he didn’t give a fig about.
Her phone alarm went off and she stopped it, then looked up at him, resigned. “I’d better get going. The museum director will be wondering where I am.”
“I will drive you to this museum,” he stated.
Faye laughed, shaking her head. “No way,” she pulled back. “We go in the opposite direction. It would be out of your way to drive me there.”
He leaned forward, taking her hand as he walked her towards the waiting SUV. “I will drive you to the museum and I will examine these paintings with you.” He lifted a hand when she started to speak. “I won’t interrupt your work, Faye,” he told her gently, but firmly. “I just want to see these paintings. I looked them up online, but I prefer seeing things in person.”
She smiled at that. “I guess that would be okay. I forgot to ask the director about letting you see them yesterday. However, I can’t imagine that Mr. Latro would mind if someone else came in to see the paintings. He’s very excited about others learning of this artist’s brilliance.”
He held her hand as the backdoor of the SUV was opened for them. “This will also allow me to kiss you.”
Faye tripped with his words, but Zantar merely held her closer, enjoying the feeling of her soft curves against his body. Her breasts brushed against him, and he wanted to pull her into his arms right here and then kiss her and feel that passion explode around them just as it had yesterday. Thankfully, he was able to restrain himself long enough to help her into the SUV. But the moment that the doors were closed, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, unmindful of the driver and guard who were sitting in the front seat. He didn’t care. Zantar knew that if he didn’t kiss Faye now, right this moment, he would burst into flames of frustration!
She slipped into his arms as if she’d been hoping for the same thing. Her slender arms twined around his neck and she lifted her face to his kiss. He didn’t hesitate now. Kissing her was more important than breathing!
As their lips touched, he felt the heat explode around them. She was on fire, as was he. They shifted, he held her hips against his, her body moving against him as her mouth open to him, his tongue sliding inside her mouth to explore and taste.
She made sexy little sounds in the back of her throat, moving closer, as if their kiss wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough for him either, and those sounds were making him crazy! He wanted to tear off her clothes and discover the womanly curves underneath. He wanted to taste her, smell her, watch as she exploded around him. He wanted to imprint himself on her so that she couldn’t breathe without him close by. Because that’s how he felt. Every moment yesterday had been an irritating mess, not just because of the investigation into someone’s criminal efforts, but because Faye wasn’t by his side. Because she hadn’t been at the hotel, waiting for him. Because he hadn’t been able to hold her and tell her about all of the things he’d discovered, nor had he been able to hear what she’d learned about her artist.
Everything about this woman intrigued him, including the way her fingers curled around his neck, pulling him closer, her lips teasing his, her pretty, white teeth biting his lower lip, her soft sighs or shocked gasps when he touched a new place on her body.
Too soon, his driver pulled up outside of the museum. Zantar wanted to fire the man for being so damn efficient! Alleanat ealaa alrajul! Couldn’t he have taken the long route there?
Slowly, he pulled away, but paused to nibble along her neck and her ear, eliciting a few more gasps of pleasure before he stopped.
Not nearly satisfied, Zantar enjoyed the sweet sigh of frustration when she realized that he wasn’t about to kiss her again. Her eyes were still closed, her soft lips parted, as if waiting for another kiss. He was just about to kiss her, to give into the urge, when she opened her eyes to try and figure out why he’d stopped.
Those blue eyes weren’t very focused as she turned her head, looking out through the tinted windows. Suddenly, she stiffened on his lap and if his hands weren’t holding her hips, Faye might have tumbled to the floor of the SUV. “We’re here!” she exclaimed and Zantar’s frustration cooled slightly. It was hard to be angry when she appeared to be just as affected as he was.
“Oh my gosh!” she gasped, shifting on the leather seat in an ungraceful move. Zantar clenched his teeth as another bolt of lust surged through him with that movement. He gripped the edge of the seat for a long moment, irritated when she simply picked up her cotton bag and slid towards the doorway. She jerked the handle, pushing it open and stepping out into the morning sunshine. But Zantar moved a bit more slowly, needing to get his body back under control before he stepped out into the public. His guards would know what was going on even though the partition between himself and them had been closed.
Through sheer force of will, he pulled his mind out of the lust induced stupor and closed the jacket he’d donned earlier this morning. With resignation, he stepped out of the SUV, glaring at his guards when they glanced at him, then quickly turned away, looking down the street in both directions.
With a sigh of frustration and an enormous amount of self-discipline to get his body back under control, he turned and looked down at Faye. “Show me your paintings, Faye,” he said, taking her hand and placing her fingers on the curve of his arm. It wasn’t exactly the way he wanted her to touch him, but for the moment it was enough.
“This way,” she said, leading him towards a steel security door that led directly into a warehouse like area. As she pulled out a plastic security keycard that allowed them entry, Faye explained what was going on, what was stored back here and why so many of the pieces of art and history weren’t on display as she led him along a concrete floor and cinderblock wall area. Finally, they came to a larger room with long windows and another locked door. Faye put in the code and led him into what looked like a laboratory. “This is the restoration area,” she explained. Briefly revealing her brilliance, she took him through the room, explaining what each of the pieces of equipment did.
Finally, they reached the restoration room where ten different paintings were leaning against the wall. There were several sticky notes on the table in front of each painting and Zantar thought about the map yesterday and all of the sticky notes he and the others had posted along the map. Seems as if people of all industries sometimes eschewed technology and went old-school with paper notes.
“This is where I work,” she said with pride, her eyes sweeping over the notes and the paintings as if trying to assess where she should start. She dumped her bag on the floor, then grabbed his arm and pulled him down to the third painting from the end. “Look here,” she said, pointing to a corner of the painting. “If you look at the overall painting, this is just an image of a man with the city in the background. But if you look down here at the left bottom corner, there’s a compass right…here.” She straightened and looked up at him, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Why is there a compass sitting on a table in the kitchen? And if you look out at the city,” she turned to point out the window, “you can see smaller details such as this map attached to the wall. Why is there a map on a wall in the middle of the city?” she asked, handing him the magnifying glass.
Zantar bent over, examining the image. She was right. There was a map of the area somehow pinned to the wall of the city. What an odd thing to have added to a painting! Especially during the period in which the artist lived. At that point in history, maps were used mainly by the wealthy or on ocean vessels. And the maps that were around, they were rudimentary. But this one looked very detailed. Accurate? He didn’t know.