Page 43 of Painted in Love

Adrian had sent a copy to both of them, and Clay and Gareth would have had a long conversation about the terms.

Sitting on the sofa, Saskia tried not to chew nervously on a thumbnail while she waited to hear what Clay had to say.

Adrian spoke formally. “We’ve detailed how your expectations will be handled.”

Clay looked first at Adrian, then at Saskia, and he chuckled softly. “According to this, I’d better not have a lot of expectations.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “I told you how San Holo works. So did Saskia. You agree to give him free rein within your guidelines.”

Clay laughed again, the same good-natured laugh he used with Dylan or any number of artists in his warehouse. “It seems I’m allowed a few guidelines,” he drawled, then looked directly at Saskia. “Saskia has practically guaranteed I won’t be disappointed.”

Before Saskia could say anything, Adrian shot back, “Very few of our clients have been. In fact, most were amazed that San Holo gave them what they were looking for, even if they didn’t know exactly what that was.”

Gareth stood against the wall next to the water cooler, arms folded, probably wondering what the hell Clay had gotten himself into. Adrian turned to him. “I’m sure you’ve looked for flaws in the contract. But you won’t find them.”

He smiled, saying in a deep but warm voice, “All I do is warn Clay. He signs what he wants.”

That described Clay precisely. He would listen to his lawyer, but he would do what he wanted. Though she’d known him only a week, Saskia understood that about him.

“Of course,” Adrian said, “the contract also stipulates that you will protect San Holo’s identity with tents around the scaffolding and security keeping people away.” She pointed at Clay. “No one gets past security. Not even you.”

Clay closed his eyes, his lips stretched in a grin. Until, again, he glanced at Saskia. She’d been quiet during the meeting, afraid she’d beg him to sign the contract. He’d been elated when Adrian called to tell him San Holo had accepted the commission. The sum was extraordinary, more than she’d been paid for any mural to date. Then again, it was an entire building, not just one wall. Before she even started to paint, she’d have to make hundreds of sketches, testing ideas and throwing many out before she decided on the final.

But had she persuaded him to stop trying to uncover San Holo’s identity?

Feeling his cheeky smile deep down inside her, igniting all her nerve endings the way his touch did, she knew he hadn’t given up. He’d keep at her as long as she allowed him to. He wasn’t above letting Dylan do his dirty work either, telling her how badly he wanted to meet his idol. What would he think if he knew his hero was actually a heroine?

“I’m ready to sign,” Clay said. After a flourish of his pen, he rose and held out his hand to Saskia. “Why don’t we get some lunch and let the two lawyers hammer out the rest of the details?”

Saskia had her lovely Victorian in the Haight for which she’d paid cash, and she did what she wanted, ate where she wanted, flew off for two- or three-day trips to foreign locales where she could do her street art, and booked a first-class ticket if she wanted.

But this commission? It put her on a whole different plane, no pun intended.

She stood and took his hand, the touch shooting heat through her. “That would be lovely.” Then she added, “But I need to get together with San this afternoon and go over more details.” She had to start working on her sketches.

That could become a future problem. Clay would wonder why she wasn’t spending every night with him as she had over the past week. But nights were when she did her best work. And she certainly couldn’t do that work in front of Clay.

She’d have to make excuses. Or change her habits and work during the day.

Nights making sketches? Or nights in Clay’s bed?

There really wasn’t a choice.

The door closed behind Saskia and the client. The new boyfriend.

It was an exceptionally lucrative contract. Adrian hadn’t tried to push Saskia into it. Her friend had to make up her own mind. But Adrian knew in her heart that this would be as much a game-changer as that very first mural bearing the fleur-de-lis had been.

She turned to Gareth as he said, “Since Clay has already signed, there’s really no further details to work out.”

She smiled at him. “I wasn’t talking about those details.”

He pulled out the chair Clay had been sitting in and faced her.

The man was definitely a good-looking bloke. Tall, oh yes, she’d seen that as he leaned against the wall. He had beautiful muscles, sculpted from hard workouts. She would love to give them a squeeze. He wore his auburn hair short, the way she liked it, and his jaw clean-shaven, also the way she liked it. Although a little scruff on his chin after five o’clock would be delightful. And those eyes, the color of her first cup of coffee in the morning and the piece of dark chocolate she allowed herself in the evening.

She held in a dreamy sigh. Because this man might become something more than just a handsome man whose muscles she’d like to squeeze.

“Saskia told me you’re a painter. She was quite impressed with your art.”

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