Because You Are Mine (Because You Are Mine #1)(72)
Author: Beth Kery

“I wouldn’t have done it for a lesser cause. You know I’ve been trying to get ahold of some of your older works for ages now. It’s because I think you’re such a talented artist that I wanted to do that, ’Cesca. That was my main motivation for agreeing to help Ian collect the pieces. Not his money.” His attention was diverted. He went to stand before the painting. “You’ve outdone yourself,” he said in a hushed tone. “This is the best work you’ve ever done.”

“You really think so?” she asked, walking over to stand next to him.

Davie nodded solemnly, his gaze traveling over the large painting. He met her gaze. “I know you said that your . . . affair with him was over, ’Cesca, but I can’t help but notice that Ian Noble is crazy about you. Granted, I’ve expressed my doubts about your involvement with him in the past. But this wasn’t just about him throwing his money around. You wouldn’t believe the effort and thought he’s put into acquiring your work.”

She was unsure of how she was supposed to feel. Two tears spilled out of her eyes. “He does it because he can, Davie.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Davie asked, looking confused. “What is it about Ian Noble that intimidates you so much? I can tell that you’re attracted to him, but torn about it, too. What’s he done to you?” Davie demanded, his bewilderment morphing to worry as he studied her face.

“Oh, Davie,” she mumbled miserably. She’d never told him about the sexual aspect of her and Ian’s relationship . . . about Ian being a sexual dominant and insisting she was a submissive. She suddenly blurted it all out, her explanation coming in uncomfortable fits and starts as she tried to give Davie a PG version and found it nearly impossible to do so.

“Francesca,” Davie said, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “Having kinky sex isn’t a terrible thing. I know you haven’t had much experience—”

“Any . . . before Ian,” she reminded him.

“Right. But people have all sorts of kinks in the bedroom. As long as it’s consensual and no one is getting hurt . . .” He paled as he faded off. “Ian’s not hurting you, is he?”

“No . . . no, it’s not that,” she exclaimed. “I mean . . . I like . . . love the way he makes love to me,” she said, blushing hotly. She’d never had this graphic of a conversation with Davie before . . . with anyone, for that matter. “It’s just that he’s a control freak all the time. Look at how he went behind my back and did this whole thing with you! He knew it’d make me want to forgive him for walking out on me last week without an explanation after we’d started to grow close.”

Davie sighed. “I told you. Ian asked me to locate your paintings a while back. He couldn’t have known you guys were going to have a fight back then and suggested this to make up for it. Look, I’ve spent time dealing with him over the past few weeks as I located your paintings and we negotiated purchase prices. I know he’s domineering, but he’s also thoughtful. Yeah, he’s stubborn, and it’s his way or the highway, but it’s been hard to argue with him about that when he clearly wanted to do this to please you.”

She just stared at her friend . . . wanting to believe him . . .

“I only know one other person who’s as stubborn as him,” Davie said in a wry, challenging tone. Francesca laughed. She knew who that other person was.

“If you made it clear to him that his dominance over you could happen solely within the boundaries of sex and the bedroom, would that help?” Davie asked.

“But he shares so little of himself. He can shut me off like a light.”

Davie nodded in understanding. “Well, it’s your decision, of course. I wouldn’t be too sure about his ability to shut you out, though. He’s unreadable most of the time, no doubt about it, but that doesn’t equate to a lack of caring. It just means he’s good at hiding it. Anyway, I wanted you to know how focused and generous he’s been in collecting your paintings. He’s been a man on a mission.” He checked his watch. “I have to get going. I’m closing the gallery this evening.”

“Thank you, Davie,” she said, giving him a big hug. “Both for getting the paintings and for talking to me about Ian.”

“Anytime,” he told her with a significant glance. “We’ll talk more later, if you want.”

She nodded, watching him walk out of the room, leaving her to stew in her doubts and hopes.

* * *

Ten minutes later, she knocked softly on the door to Ian’s bedroom suite. She entered when she heard his distant, “Come in.” He sat on the couch in the sitting area, his suit coat unbuttoned, his long legs bent before him, paging through his messages on his cell phone, his gaze steady on her as she approached.

“I was just looking at the paintings again,” she said. “I’m sorry for running off like that.”

“Are you all right?” he asked, setting down his phone on the couch.

She nodded. “I was . . . overwhelmed.”

A strained silence ensued as he studied her.

“I thought they would make you happy. The paintings.”

Her eyes burned and she stared at the Oriental carpet. Damn. She’d thought she’d gotten rid of all the onerous tears.

“They do make me happy. More happy than I can say.” She dared to meet his gaze. “How did you know they would?”

“I see how much pride you take in your work,” he said, standing. “I can only imagine how hard it was for you to part with them.”

“Like giving a piece of myself away each time,” she said, attempting a smile, twisting her hands nervously. Her gaze flickered across his face as he stepped toward her, and she was snagged by his stare. “I don’t know how I can ever repay you. I mean . . . I know the paintings are yours. You bought them. But for me to see them all together again is so special. But don’t you think it’s all too much?”

“Why would it be too much? Do you think I’m doing it to get you back in bed?”

“No, but—”

“I did it because you’re singularly talented. You know how much I appreciate art. It would please me to see your work valued as it should be. My patronage would mean nothing if you weren’t so talented, Francesca.”

She exhaled slowly. How could she argue in the face of what appeared to be genuine sincerity? “Thank you. Thank you so much for thinking about me, Ian.”