Page 111 of Unfolding Kiara

I fixed my tie for the umpteenth time, my eyes wavering over the people in flashy, luxurious clothes, finding one woman for whom my heart still beat wildly. Where did she go? My eyes searched for her in the crowd. The hall was covered in velvet and satin drapes, giving it a rich feeling, which blended perfectly with the golden lights and the paintings. Kiara was responsible for the display of paintings and their introduction while I worked with the lighting and decoration coordinator. Mr. Stone handed me a flute of champagne, his eyes approving of the suit I was wearing. It was, of course, in black.

“Looking for Ms. Sharma?”

Heat creeped up my cheeks as I scratched my neck, “Is it that obvious?”

Mr. Stone chuckled at me, patting my shoulder. “Take care of her. I am sure Mrs. Damini would be proud of her daughter’s choice.”

I smiled at him when he left to talk with the other guest and looked for my girlfriend. When I found her laughing with Anya and Andrew, my heartbeat came to a halt. She looked stunning in a redsaree. The black blouse hugged her curves while the folds of silk fell over her petite frame, goldenjhumkhasdonning her ears. Kiara looked more beautiful than I have ever seen her donned in asaree.

I knew I would have a hard time keeping my hands off of her tonight. I made my way toward her, greeting Anya and her son but I didn’t miss the way my Bella gazed at me from beneath her lashes.

I couldn’t wait to get her alone tonight.

The auction went well, with billions of dollars going to a children’s charity. Mr. Stone was more than happy with the outcome, congratulating us. I couldn’t keep my hands from her waist when everyone couldn’t stop gawking at her. She was the only one who was wearing asareeand resembled her mother. Her father and brother were proud of the entire event. Even my mothers seemed happy.

“She is truly beautiful. I could see why you love her,” a deep voice said over my shoulder from where I was watching Kiara meet and talk with the people who had placed a bid for the paintings.

I turned with a smile, his sharp face melting into a teasing grin as we hugged. “Nice to see you too,PrinceKhalid,” I said. “Stop staring at her, she is taken.”

He smiled down at me, his six-foot-five tall figure looming over me. “Not staring, Ethan, appreciating the efforts of the daughter of Mrs. Damini. She must be proud of her.”

“Yes, she would be,” I whispered, loving the small dimple poking her cheek when her brother and father embraced her in a warm hug.

Sliding my hands in my pockets, I turned to him knowing well enough that people, mostly women of all ages, were eyeing him. “What about you? Dating anyone?” I asked, curious if anyone had captured his heart of steel.

He let out a hearty, deep laugh. “Not at all. You think my rebellious sister will let me relax and have the time to date anyone?”

His voice was deep yet firm when he spoke in English and it made him sound British as he was born and raised in Azmia. His brother was the Sultan of Azmia, and his little sister was a rebel, running away from their country and making him worry. If he loved anything more than his country and the art of painting, it would be his sister.

“I thought you found her in New Zealand last time?”

Khalid Al-Latif shook his head, a small smile curling over his face. His bronze skin glowing. “We did, but she wanted to travel to Australia and then Sri Lanka. She is a wild spirit. I worry about her sometimes.”

“Which brother doesn’t worry about his sister? Let her see the world. She will come back on her own.”

Kiara walked up to me, her eyes wide and mouth agape when she saw who was standing beside me. I frowned at her when she stuttered greeting him, her hand digging in my arm when Khalid congratulated her by kissing her knuckles. I glared at him. He winked at me before he walked away when Mr. Stone called him over to meet other people. He would have joined us for dinner, but he had to leave for San Francisco tonight.

“You never told me how hot he is in person,” Kiara said as soon as he was out of our earshot.

“I will pretend I did not just hear that.”

She grinned up at me, her golden-brown eyes sparkling, “Oh, come on, you know I was just appreciating his beauty. I took a fart on the heartfor you, Ethan.”

I smiled, looking down at the woman I loved dearly, “So did I, Bella.”

* * *

After the auction and the dinner with our friends and family, we were driving back home. I squeezed her thigh, smiling at her as I recalled my conversation with her father and brother. They had given me their blessings when I had asked them for something, even though Karan, her brother, didn’t fully trust me to keep his sister happy. I could understand his feelings as I have a little sister of my own.

But I loved her and her father could see that, so he had approved of me.

Not Dharmesh from Delhi, ha!

Before I could whisk her away to our bedroom and strip her out of hersaree, Kiara led me to the guest room wanting to show something to me. I followed her into the room as she moved to the covered frame and removed the white cloth to reveal the painting. From the start, I knew she did it. She painted us. Together. United.As one. I swallowed the lump in my throat, clearing the memories from that night.

“Why did you paint that?”

“I told you I wanted to paintus. Together.”

I fucking loved it. So much so, I didn’t want anyone else to look at it. It showed us how intimate and vulnerable we both were together. Each stroke of the brush was precise, our skin glinting with a small glow. She sat on my lap, my arm covering her breasts and holding her throat while the other held her hip. I was embracing her from behind, her tumbling waves brushing our naked skin with the rumpled bed sheets in the background. The most detailed part was our faces. I was looking at her, my face tilted and blue-green eyes gleaming with adoration, watching her when she took all of me, our faces showing the throes of our passion.

I met her amber eyes. “It’s fucking beautiful, Kiara. I love it,” I whispered as I awed at the painting once again.

“Really?”

“Let me show you how much I love it.”

Closing the distance between us, I pressed my lips against hers. She sighed in relief, melting in my arms when I pulled her closer, my hands digging in the bare skin of her waist. Our lips met in a heated kiss. Neither of us complained when we fell on the soft rug, which had dried paint streaks all over it. We both said the words of love again and again. Kiara moaned those sweet words against my lips when I asked her to, thrusting inside her in a slow caress and making love with our painting staring back at us.

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