Page 125 of Her Beast

“Because I am pleased,” he said. “Both that you’d think me worthy of painting and also that you’d give me such a thoughtful gift.”

Her beautiful face became even more lovely, her shy, pleased smile making her look angelic, although Malcolm knew that she was no angel.

She was far, far more interesting than a mere angel.

“I’m happy you like it,” she said, shifting on the settee, her magnificent shoes peeking from beneath her skirts.

Malcolm wanted to correct her; he didn’tlikeit. He loved it. And the fact that he could appreciate a painting of himself—when he couldn’t stand looking in the mirror—dumbfounded him. But somehow she’d managed to make him look interesting, rather than just broken; worthy of knowing rather than simply worn out.

Give her something in return, Mal. It couldn’t have been easy to ask to see you. You owe her.

Malcolm thought he owed her the exact opposite—he should send her packing—but he was sick and tired of that struggle.

So, instead, he took his dead wife’s advice for a change and smiled at Julia. “I’m glad you’re here with me tonight.”

∞∞∞

Malcolm’s words—so unexpected and intoxicating—made Julia weak with relief.

“Me too,” she said quietly.

He turned away and propped the painting on the mantlepiece and then stood back to look at it.

Julia was delighted that he seemed to like it. She believed it was the best painting she’d ever done and couldn’t help wondering if it was because of the subject.

“Would you like some champagne?” he suddenly asked.

“Yes, please—I adore champagne.” Julia studied the room while he opened the bottle. She’d been too anxious and distracted to pay attention the last time she’d been in it. It was masculine, yet not oppressively so, the dark wood floors and rich brown leather furniture lightened by exquisite oriental rugs.

As much as she tried not to stare, her gaze pulled in Malcolm’s direction.

He was looking at her, his hands moving competently on the bottle.

“Thank you for bringing Richard and Nanny to me. It was the best Christmas gift I’ve ever had.”

He popped the cork and then deftly filled one glass.

Julia frowned. “You aren’t having any?”

He hesitated, and then poured a second glass. “Your brother is charming and Nanny Potter is a delightful woman.”

“I wish you would have joined us.”

“I thought you would like to have some time together.”

“You were missed,” she said softly.

The uncovered side of his face was facing her and his expression seemed grim.

But when he turned to hand her the glass, Julia thought she must have been wrong because he wore a faint smile.

“Thank you,” she said, watching the bubbles for a moment before looking up at him. “Are we celebrating something?”

“You tell me—are you staying?”

Julia’s heart thudded painfully at his direct look and she had to scrape together every last bit of bravery to say, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

His smile was disarming, boyish, and charming and it even reached his icy eye. He lifted his glass. “Then yes, we are celebrating. Here is to tonight, then.”

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