Page 12 of Older Hotter Grumpier
“I love it,” she breathes. It’s a clever painting that uses paper and paint to create a montage that looks different depending on the perspective. It’s a hand stroking pages of a book, and there’s light, yellow and cream and pink like a soft summer dawn that tints the edges peachy pink.
“I bet,” I reply wryly. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or sorry that the girl who painted the image is temporarily not here beside it.
“What?” Ella’s brow crinkles with confusion.
“What do you think it is?”
“It’s a book,” she says firmly.
I raise a sceptical eyebrow.
“Or a flower. Oh wait, maybe it’s…” She sneaks a look up at me, and shyly looks away. “I don’t know.”
“Little liar,” I murmur, leaning down to whisper into her ear. “You know what it is.”
She blushes prettily and damn but I want to see that again and again. It is a book, but the placement of the book between a woman’s thighs, and a man’s fingers in the pages, gives it a very different vibe. Plus, there’s a pink tint to it.
Flower? Sure.
I admit, I like this piece. It’s utterly filthy in the most deniable way.
“Are you going to bid for it?”
“On an assistant’s salary?” She shakes her head regretfully. “I don’t have anywhere to hang it even if it was affordable.”
She could hang it in my house if she moved in, if this was all real, and she was going to be my wife, rather than a fake because I took advantage of a compromising situation.
Fuck. First I all-but stalk her, parking outside her apartment building on the weekends and torturing myself with her being close and yet out of reach.
That probably counts as full stalking, actually. And half the time I give in and call, making up some crisis or other that I need her help with, just so I can spend a few hours breathing the same air as my innocent assistant. The woman I love more than anything.
“I could find you somewhere for it,” I say eventually. “Maybe in the office.”
And I recognise immediately it’s the wrong thing to say, but I don’t know why.
“That wouldn’t be appropriate. Thanks though.” Sometimes her eyes have gold flecks, streaks of fire for my sunshine dragon, but they’re more brassy than flame right now. “I’m going to nip to the ladies, I’ll be back.” As she pulls away, I find I cannot let her go, my arm reaching to full stretch before I release her. She smiles, unsure, a touch sad, over her shoulder, blonde hair gleaming, the dress shimmering.
She’s so beautiful in that dress. My heart aches. I should have said I’d buy her a home to put the painting in. I’d buy her a thousand houses if it made her happy.
“Pretty bit of fluff you have there, big brother. Triplet swap?”
“Fuck off.”
Severino, one of my identical brothers, sidles up next to me. “There are lots of pretty things to look at here.”
Sev rakes his gaze over Ella’s body and anger boils up my throat.
“Idon’tshare.”
He smirks, and doesn’t comment that I might not share women, but I’ve been generous enough with other things over the years. “Oh, possessive about this one, are you? Interesting.”
“No. Not interesting.” Yes. I am possessive of Ella. What if she likes my more charming brother more than she likes me? What if he steals her away? I doubt he’d have any scruples about seducing an innocent like my sunshine dragon. She can’t leave me. I’m not sure I could bear the dark without her.
I turn to Severino. My younger brother is dressed in a pale grey suit, and is smirking. After forty years, looking at Sev or Vito is still the same as looking in the mirror. Sev is slightly lighter. His temples are greyer than mine, his countenance not as gloomy. Vito is as dark as me, but more tanned.
Sev would probably try something with Ella only to piss me off. He does that as often as we help each other.
“Have you heard Vito is returning to London?” I change the subject.
