Page 142 of Brushed By Moonlight
“That coffee machine will take some time to set up, you know…” He leaned in to kiss me.
The moment our lips touched, my body heated, and slowly, I melted against the wall.
I tilted my head back, basking in the flurry of kisses he planted along my skin.
“Up these stairs, correct?” Sid’s voice drifted up the stairwell.
We froze.
“Yes,” Henrik said with a hint of glee. “Take those stairs. Up one flight, then turn right. The drawing room is above us.”
“Fucking vampires,” Marius growled as Sid’s footsteps sounded below.
I grabbed Marius’s hand and continued toward my suite. “Probably not the best time right now.”
“Not the best time to kill a vampire?” he grumbled.
I kissed his hand. “Or to make out. But I promise you, tonight…”
“Kill vampire first, sex second. It’s a deal,” Marius said.
I laughed. “Just sex. For now, at least.”
Fifteen minutes later, everyone gathered in the drawing room and watched Sid inspect the Van Gogh. Well, everyone except Bene, who was more interested in the coffee machine’s hissing and sputtering — across the room from the painting, just in case.
Sid hunched over the painting with a small, handheld lens, mumbling to himself.
“And?” Roux asked impatiently.
Even Henrik looked curious.
“Shh,” I cut in. “Let him concentrate.”
Marius snorted. “We already know it’s real. Mina said so.”
I appreciated his faith in me, but my paranoia had grown over the past few days. What if the painting was a fake? There would be no celebration today, no silent pride when the news hit the papers in a few months. No glance at heaven to say,I did it for you, Dad.
A lump formed in my throat.
“Interesting,” Sid murmured, then moved on to another section of the painting.
Bene sipped his first batch of coffee and kissed his fingers. “Magnifique.” He pranced over to sit on the couch, where he leaned back and raised his feet toward the coffee table.
“Don’t—” I started, but he’d already pulled his feet back with a grin.
“Gotcha.” He planted his feet on the floor and sipped, then moaned and started to speak.
“Not a word about my coffee machine,” I warned.
He snorted. “It was a machine, but I’m not sure about the coffee part.” He raised his cup. “Thisis coffee.”
Roux chuckled. “Now we know what to get Bene for Christmas. Fancy beans.”
Bene gave that a thumbsup. “Dark roast Akagera from Rwanda, please.”
I made a mental note, then caught myself. My contract with Gordon only ran to the end of November. Where would Bene go afterward? Where would they all go?
My eyes wandered to Marius.
