Chapter 3

He saw her as soon as he entered the room downstairs. He had spent the remainder of the day catching up with friends and alerting them that he was in town.

Jackson demanded that he stop by for dinner, and Liam Moses invited him to a party on one of his yachts. He had accepted both invitations and hoped to persuade Tessa to accompany him to the party by then.

Tugging at his jacket, he breathed before milling around to the crowd. She was wearing a slinky red sheath that left one smooth shoulder bare. She looked terrific.

"Landen?"

Stifling the impatience, he turned toward Liam.

"You never said you would be here." Liam accused him.

"You never asked." He greeted the tall, dark-haired man with a grin as they clasped hands warmly. "What are you doing here? When we spoke, it sounded like you were out of town."

"I was in New York tying up some business. A friend is interested in some paintings, and my research has led me here." Liam gave him a curious look. "Now you."

"I purchased a painting here just the other day."

"One of Jackson's?" Liam gestured to the waiter imperiously, and the man hurried over. Snagging two flutes, he handed one to Landen.

"Yes." Taking the glass, he lifted it to his lips, his eyes flickering around the room. Tessa had moved on to another group of people farther away from him.

"He is going to be pissed."

His eyes swiveled back to his friend, an amused look on his face. "The money will be going into his pocket either way."

Liam studied the younger man curiously. "Why are you here?"

"I was invited."

Following his gaze, Liam"s eyes latched onto the slender beauty ascending the stairs.

"Ah." He murmured meaningfully. "You may invite her to the party."

"I am trying to get her to sleep with me. But she is not budging."

Liam's deep chuckle brought a smile to Landen's lips.

"You came right out and told her that?"

"I am here for a month or less; I do not have time to waste."

"How is it going so far?" Liam was highly entertained and decided that the reluctance to come in the first place was dissolving. His darling wife had canceled at the last minute because she was not feeling well.

"She is resisting and playing hard to get. But I am not giving up. She invited me here tonight."

"To an opening. Why didn't you invite her out to dinner?"

Landen gave him a disgusted look. "Why haven't I thought about that? Wait! I had, but she is not buying."

"Perhaps it's because you mentioned you are here briefly," he suggested. Ignoring the inviting looks they received from the two blondes in the corner, he indicated that they move to another section of the room.

"I hope she will feel sorry for me and accept my offer tonight. I already bought a damn painting that I do not particularly want and hope I do not have to buy another bloody one."

Draining his glass, he put it on a column. "Now, excuse me, I need to take my chance."

"I will find you when I am ready to leave," Liam told him, amusement gleaming. A frown crossed his brow when he realized the two blondes had followed them.

Lifting his left hand, he showed the ring. "I am happily married to a wonderful woman who would not hesitate to kick both our asses if I cheat on her. And my friend here is not interested."

"You are well and truly married," Landen said with a grin.

"And loving every minute of it. Go and get your girl."

*****

Tessa had seen when he entered and saw when he stopped to talk to Liam Moses. She had also noticed that they greeted each other like old friends.

Something that did not surprise her in the least. He told her that Jackson Colby was a friend, and even though his clothes were discreet, she knew enough to realize they were costly. And his watch was a Phillipe Patek, which cost up to ten thousand dollars and more.

She had no idea why he had become fixated on her, but she was not open to any drama.

He was wealthy, probably married, and here to escape his wife and responsibilities. She was not going to sleep with him.

Even though you want to, the thought sneaked in before she could stop it. She would ignore the pangs he evoked inside her whenever he was near and stand firm in her refusal.

She was about to approach one of their lesser talents when his deep, distinctive voice rang behind her.

"I was hoping to catch you by yourself."

Taking a deep, calming breath, she turned to face him. She had caught just a glimpse of him when he came in, but now she was faced with the full force of his magnetism.

He wore a hunter-green sports jacket over a lime green shirt and tan trousers.

His thick dark hair was brushed ruthlessly back from his face, and he had shaved.

A smile was on his lips, and she realized, to her horror, that her heart was beating unsteadily.

"Why is that?" It took an effort for her to sound casual.

"I wanted to tell you how lovely you look. The style and color of the dress suits you.

"Thank you. I have to"

"I brought you a glass of champagne. I noticed that you were not drinking."

"I happen to be working." She pointed out.

Taking her hand, he handed her the glass and curled her fingers around the stem. "I know more than a little about paintings."

"And?"

"I would like to help." Taking her free hand, he tucked it through his arm. She was about to pull away when she saw Ronald coming toward them.

"Oh great."

"Who is he?"

"My boss."

Landen stared at the colorfully dressed man in amusement. He was carrying a tiny dog in his left hand and a flute of champagne in his right.

"Darling, what a wonderful gathering." Ronald's avidly curious light blue eyes latched onto the man so close to her. "I don't believe we have met."

He had assessed the watch and the expensive clothing and made an educated guess. "Ronald, owner of this humble gallery."

"This place is anything but humble. Landen."

He did not offer his hand,

"Friend of Tessa?"

"A patron. I am interested in that piece."

Landen resigned himself to purchasing another expensive art he did not need.

The three turned to the lovely painting depicting a rundown house on the cliff"s edge and flowers blooming wildly beneath a giant oak tree.

"You have wonderful taste." Ronald was enthused. "It's by one of our lesser-known artists, a protege of Jackson Colby." His blue eyes swung to the man inquisitively. "I noticed you speaking to Liam Moses earlier. Friend of yours?"

"He is."

"Ah." The single word had a wealth of meaning. "Has Tessa shown you around?"

"She has." Turning to the silent woman, he smiled at her. "Shall we get the paperwork done?"

"I will not hold you up any longer. What part of the UK are you from, for me?"

"London," Landen said briefly. "Please excuse us?"

"Of course." Ronald sipped his champagne and gave his darling a long, slow stroke as he stared after them.

"Did you want that painting?"

"It's quite lovely." He still had her hand clamped against his.

"And you came here intending to make another purchase?" She smiled at several people who waved at her.

"I came here to persuade you to return to my place."

"And you think purchasing another piece of art will do the trick." They were inside her office now. Pulling her hand away, she went to sit behind her desk.

"I hope you feel sorry for me. I am out several thousand dollars and have nothing to show for it."

She looked up at him and felt a jolt at how handsome he was. The man was lethal, and she was dangerously close to saying yes. "It's your money, or at least, I hope it is."

"You think I stole it?"

"I had not thought of that." She called up the invoice and keyed in some numbers. "Don't you have someone waiting for you in London?"

"Like a girlfriend?"

"I was thinking more like a wife and family."

His eyebrows arched. "You think so little of me?"

"I don't know you." She reminded him.

"And whose fault is that?" He asked reproachfully.

Pushing away from the desk, she came toward him, her slow, seductive walk firing his lust. Bloody hell! he thought as she closed the distance between them. He was going to kiss her, but he had to.

Leaning against the door jamb, he kicked the door shut.

"What are you doing?" She demanded.

"Something I have wanted to do since the first time I laid eyes on you." Clamping his hands on her arms, he drew her inexorably toward him.

"Don't-" Her protest was cut off as he seized her lips. Her hands came up to push him away, but instead, she curled her fingers into his jacket.

Landen rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms soothingly, his lips softening as he tried to persuade her to open her lips to his.

An electric jolt went through his body when she did, her breath touching him and lighting a fire inside his loins that was burning its way throughout his entire body.

He coaxed her lips apart, his tongue darting inside her mouth. His hands drifted to her neck, where he clamped his hand around it, feeling the pulse beating wildly against his flesh.

She melted into him, her slender curves fitting his body as if it belonged there. Driving his tongue into her mouth, he gathered her closer to him, not caring that she could feel the raging evidence of his arousal.

A moan escaped her, and her fingers tugged at the lapels of his jacket as she sagged against him weakly in complete surrender.

Dragging his lips from hers with almost superhuman effort, he bent his forehead to hers as he took a deep breath.

"I thought Englishmen are supposed to be cold and detached." She whispered shakily.

"How many Englishmen have you been with?" He asked huskily.

"None. Rumors." She tried to move out of his arms, but he held her against him.

"Let go of me."

"Not until you admit this is not just a one-sided deal."

"I have work-"

"No." He shook his head, a determined look stamped on his face. "That's not going to work. Come back to my place."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?" He tamped down the impatience with incredible difficulty.

"Won't."

"You would deny us both?" He asked incredulously. "After what we just experienced?"

"It will pass."

"Tessa-" Tilting her chin up, he forced her to look at him. "This is not going away."

"You are here for four weeks, and I am unwilling to enter into a meaningless fling."

"How about a meaningful one?" He tried to tease.

"I am not interested."

"You are. I was invited to a party on Saturday and would like you to accompany me."

"I don't think-"

"Either

"Or we leave and go to my place right now." The determination stamped on his handsome face could not be mistaken.

"Are you giving me an ultimatum?"

"I am afraid I am. I am also afraid that I am going to continue to haunt you every single day until you say yes."

"To what?" She asked, dark brown eyes flashing.

"To have sex with me or attend the party." His dark green eyes twinkled. "I am here demeaning myself in ways I never imagined. Pity me, won't you?"

She felt herself going limp. She was still wrapped in his arms and could feel the wiry strength of his body against hers. He was weakening her resolve, and she did not like it.

"Okay, fine. If it will get you out of my hair."

"What are you saying yes to?" He prodded.

"The party, of course."

"Of course." She did not like the gleam in his eyes, as if he knew something she didn't.

"Please let me go. I have work to do-"

"I apologize for keeping you."

"Let go."

"First-" His head swooped down again, and she could not avoid the searing kiss. With a moan of surrender, she opened her mouth, almost going faint, when he plunged his tongue in and deepened the kiss.

This time, she was the one who ended the kiss, her body trembling, her heart racing as she stood there staring at him.

"You might want to fix your hair," he told her huskily. "I will leave you to it." With another smoldering look at her swollen lips, he opened the door and left, closing it behind him.

Going around her desk, she sank onto the chair before her weakened knees could give out on her. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes.

Her nipples were chafing against the material of her dress, and she was hot all over. She agreed to go to the party with him, knowing they would probably return to his place. "Oh, Lord!" She whispered. She was definitely in trouble.

*****

He did not stay after that. He couldn't. After having a brief word with Liam, he had taken his leave. After letting himself inside, he had gone straight to the liquor cabinet and poured a healthy dose of bourbon, taking it with him to sit on the leather sofa facing the granite fireplace, his expression moody.

He wondered if it was a good idea to keep pursuing her. What had started as a lark, a spurt of adventure, was turning into much more.

He liked her and was so fiercely attracted to her that he could barely stand it. That kiss in her office had sparked something so violent inside him that it had taken him completely by surprise.

He had never wanted a woman that way before, and the evidence was chafing against his underwear. He had left the function because if he went near her again, he would have dragged her out of the bloody place and insisted on her coming here. Leaning back, he stretched his legs out and took another swallow.

He had been here for almost a week, and during that time, he had met a woman he could not wait to be with. The thought of stripping off her clothing and staring at her body was making him feverish with longing—something that had never happened to him before.

He was leaving in three weeks, and that was not negotiable. He had his responsibilities to deal with. He was the only son and heir to the family fortune, and for the first time in his life, he wished he was just some ordinary bloke.

*****

"Liam told me you bought a painting at Ronaldo's?"

"He was misinformed. I bought two paintings."

Landen was prowling the length of his friend's office restlessly. He had decided to take Jackson up on his invitation and give the gallery a break for the day, but last night had been a bloody difficult night with him tossing and turning in his bed.

"You could have come to me to get the discount."

"I wanted to go to the place, and unless I am mistaken, most of the proceeds will still be in your pockets. Am I right?"

Leaning back in his chair, Jackson eyed the younger man curiously. "What the hell is your problem?" He asked mildly.

"You are assuming I have one." He stopped in front of an easel with an unfinished painting and studied it curiously. "I hope this makes bloody sense when it is finished."

"Not much." Jackson flashed a grin at him. "Liam also told me you met someone."

Landen turned toward him, shoving his hands into his tan dress pants pockets. "Liam has been very busy."

"Liam is a gossip. I happen to know her. She persuaded me and Jason to conduct some sort of amateur hour at the gallery. She is very persistent, and when I said no, she went to Jerri, whom I could not say no to. Persistent, very good at her job, and exquisite." He eyed his friend. "Does she know you are only here for a short time?"

"Of course."

"What are you doing?"

"None of your goddamned business.' He growled. He could not answer because he had no idea what he was doing. He could try and tell himself that all he wanted from her was just a fling for the remainder of his stay in the country, or- mentally shaking his head, he walked over to another painting.

It was not Jackson's usual style, and as he studied the flowers growing in the meadow and the trees dotted in between, he was reminded nostalgically of home.

"Who painted this?"

"Would you believe that I did?"

Swinging around, Landen stared at his friend lounging behind his desk. "It's not you."

"No, it's not." Jackson agreed with a smirk. "I found it buried beneath a few things I had brought from the manor where I lived with my parents."

His eyes drifted to the painting, and a somber look settled on his face. "From my earlier days with them. We went on a trip to this pretty little village in Scotland, and I went for a walk. Those days, I would bring my implements wherever I go because it was my way of getting past the thoughts and events that haunted my life." He shook his head. "Anyway,

I found the damn thing and decided to revive it. What do you think?"

"It reminds me of home." He acknowledged bleakly. "Are you selling it?"

"No," Jackson told him with a grin. "It's a reminder of the time I spent with my adopted parents. I was talking about them the other day and realized how much I miss them. And wondering if I ever said how much I loved them. Those days, it was tough for me to say the words." His expression softened. "Jerri taught me how to."

Turning away from the painting, Landen went to stare out the window. "They have chosen someone ‘suitable' for me."

"Ah. And will you be mindlessly going into an arranged marriage?"

Landen smiled at that. "She is beautiful and from a proper family."

"I could never be part of that whole bullshit practice." Jackson snorted in disgust.

"We are British, which means we think with our heads instead of our hearts."

"Like I said, bullshit."

"It's a tradition that has been working for centuries."

"And one you have to follow through with

?."

"I happen to be the heir to a fortune. Our family has a history with the throne. And the bloodline is always impeccable."

"Hence the distasteful tradition of incestuous marriages in the distant past."

"Precisely." Turning around, Landen faced his friend. "It is my responsibility to carry on the tradition, and like I said, the young woman is of impeccable bloodline."

Jackson gave him an inscrutable stare.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

"Myself," he acknowledged. "I received a call from my father last night. I only answered because he was calling so late -" He was referring to the time difference. "It must be an emergency."

"Was it?"

"No." A grim smile crossed his lips. "It was a reminder that my time was running out, and they were eager to announce my engagement in the papers. It was also a subtle warning for me to remember who I am and that not one slightest hint of scandal should not be attached to the Chapman's name."

"You are a grown-ass man."

Landen lifted a brow. "That does not mean a bloody thing."

"It means you are old enough to make your own choices."

"You would think that." Shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers, he shrugged. "Disobeying them is tantamount to declaring a cold war."