Page 48 of Fresh Canvas
The Vanderbilt hall spun, still crawling with lingering guests.
Should I tell security?
The hem of my long gown tripped me. Val materialized out of nowhere, catching my elbow. All I could register were his worried, inquisitive eyes.
“Are you okay, Adams?” He scanned the room, seeming to look for someone. Either Val was obnoxiously shaking my arm, or I was trembling. His face swam back into view.
“Do you need me to call someone?”
I pointed at the painting. “It’s not… Felix didn’t…” My breath escaped in tight wheezes. “It’s fake.”
The whites in Val’s eyes pulled to mine. “What? That’s absurd! There’s zero chance that’s possible.”
Anger forced oxygen into my lungs on a steely breath.
“It’s forged, Val,” I hissed, gesturing at the painting. “This isn’t Felix’s real work.”
Val’s eyes darted toward the press. “Shhh! If the press hears you…”
“Val! Why aren’t you panicking?! Someone must have taken?—”
His strong hand clamped down on my wrist before he had the audacity to drag me away. Trying not to trip again on my stupid dress, I snatched a fistful of red silk.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Not here,” Val growled.
Stopping outside Rick’s mysterious storage closet, Val swiped his keycard and pushed me inside. I plunged into darkness.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
Val didn’t respond, only followed me in and yanked the door shut. Blackness wrapped around the two of us, and I instinctively shuffled backward, blindly bumping into a storage cabinet. The familiar scent of him permeated the tight space, fresh and spicy. Heavy breathing originated somewhere a few feet from me.
My breath caught as hot skin brushed my bare arm, soft as a whisper.
Not even a second later, light flared from an overhead bulb.
I blinked. Val was mere inches from my body. His muscular arm hung suspended beside me, fingers still resting on the light switch. Val slowly withdrew his arm, though he didn’t step away.
My breath hitched as I locked onto his steady gaze. His dark eyes seemed to smolder with an expression I didn’t recognize. Curiosity? Regret? Val tugged the collar of his tuxedo.
My head still spun, my body still shook. The most precious—in my opinion—piece of art in the entire world had been stolen and replaced with a forgery. Alarms screamed in the back of my mind. The front of my mind, however, was entirely preoccupied.
I couldn’t ignore how my body was reacting to Val’s. My hammering heart had risen to my throat. The heat radiating from him caused a strange swooping sensation in my stomach. Anticipation ofsomethingtingled in my fingers.
Tearing my gaze from his, I ducked my head and swept an errant curl behind my ear.
Val stepped back, though he didn’t stray from my face. “What made you think… I mean, how could you tell…”
How had I never noticed the gold flecks in his chocolate eyes? Like liquid sunshine fanning through rich, chestnut irises. The array was mesmerizing.
“I noticed the… the lily. And the dock,” I said.
Val tamped his eyelids shut with a pained expression, consequently stopping my exploration of them. They stayed irritatingly closed as he murmured, “What about them?”
I found myself taking a step closer. Val’s eyelids taunted me, hiding the golden flecks I suddenly wanted to count.
I searched his face, looking for an answer to a question I couldn’t quite remember asking.
