Chapter 33

Chapter Thirty-Three

C ooper paced outside the entrance to the National Gallery, oblivious to the stunning fountains, the impressive lead-light windows, and the natural beauty of the Royal Botanic Gardens opposite.

He had a lot on his mind; namely, the appearance of one stubborn, gorgeous artist and whether she'd give him a chance to explain.

It all seemed so clear after he'd sorted things out with his dad and he hadn't wasted a second in putting his plan into action. He just hoped the wheels in motion wouldn't be derailed by the fiery blonde harridan who had captured his heart without trying.

At that moment, he saw Ariel alight from a tram on St. Kilda Road and he exhaled in relief.

She came.

Then again, she would have, considering she thought she was meeting a representative of the Victorian Arts Council rather than the selfish brat she'd accused him of being earlier today.

His pulse raced and his heart turned over as she waited at the traffic lights, a stunning figure in crazy striped knickerbockers, a flowing purple top, and towering cork wedges that tied around her ankles with black satin ribbon. The eclectic mix would've looked silly on any other woman. On Ariel, it looked amazing.

She had an inner grace, a special glow that made anything she wore or anything around her take on special significance, and he'd been crazy enough to almost let her slip through his fingers.

Thankfully, he'd come to his senses. Now, if only she'd give him a chance to prove exactly how much she meant to him.

Cooper waited in the lengthening shadows as early dusk fell over Melbourne, watching Ariel's every step with increasing impatience.

This had to work.

Ariel glanced at her watch as she reached the entrance to the Gallery, relieved to see she'd made it with a minute to spare.

This could be it, her one and only chance to save Colour by Dreams , and a golden opportunity to rip up the document burning a hole in her bag; the signed document she hadn't couriered to Cooper when the summons from the Arts Council's director's had arrived.

She hadn't questioned the timely request. She preferred to see it as a sign from the big guy upstairs that her luck had changed for the better. Besides, the director had been at Chelsea's showing and maybe he wanted to discuss the future of Victorian art and the part she—and her gallery—could play in it.

She closed her eyes and made a fervent wish she was right in her assumptions. However, when she opened them again and found herself staring into Cooper's too-blue eyes, she knew that wishes didn't come true. At least, not for her.

"What are you doing here?" She spat out, gripping her bag tightly to prevent herself from swinging it at him, her first crazy impulse when she saw his handsome face.

"There's something you should see inside," he said, his well-modulated voice raising her hackles.

Why couldn't he be more ruffled, more scruffy, less polite, less perfect? She felt gauche, unworldly, and flawed next to him, and she hated it. If his mere presence here hadn't undermined her, his air of cool unflappability would have.

She stuck a hand on her hip and tossed him an ‘I don't give a damn' look. "What's this something I need to see? A picture of you in all your smug glory because you've won?"

She paused and tapped her lip with a chewed fingernail, as if deep in thought. "Though that can't be right. As high as the Gallery ceilings are, I doubt they could fit a portrait of your big head in there."

To her chagrin, he didn't react, apart from a slight twitch at the corners of his mouth. That very kissable mouth, the same mouth that had worked its magic on her and coerced her into believing a lot of garbage, mainly that she loved him.

She had to be nuts.

"This will only take a few minutes." He held his hands out, palm up, like he had nothing to hide. "What have you got to lose?"

"Everything," she muttered, casting longing glances at the departing tram she'd just disembarked and shuffling uncertainly from foot to foot, before shrugging and making a beeline for the Gallery, not caring if Cooper fell into step beside her or not.

She waited until they entered the cool interior and moved away from the door before confronting him.

"The director's not coming, is he? This was another of your sick power plays to get me to jump to your tune."

A statement, not a question, because she already knew he'd do anything to get what he wanted, and she wondered why she'd followed him in here.

Because you love him.

Because you still harbour some crazy hope this is all a bad dream and you'll wake up to a perfect day.

Because you're creative and are way too good at building ridiculous fantasies of happily ever after in your head.

"No, the director isn't coming." The jerk had the grace to look sheepish. "I'm sorry about that. It was the only thing I could think of on the spur of the moment to get you here."

Anger made her fingers curl into fists. "What for? To rub my nose in it? To make sure I'd meet your stupid deadline?"

The silly thing was, he was rubbing her nose in it; rubbing her nose in the fact she loved him. Loved the way his blue eyes shone with intelligence, loved the way his mouth quirked when he struggled not to laugh, loved the way he filled out a suit, even if guys in fancy clothes didn't usually do it for her.

Ariel grabbed for a curl and twisted it around her finger, hoping the sharp tug on her scalp might erase her thoughts. Instead, it made her focus on Cooper even more as he reached out to still her hand before thinking better of it and lowering his arm to his side.

The truth—that she loved him, loved everything about him—made her choke up. Getting over Cooper would be yet another burden while she tried to recover from the loss of the gallery.

"I asked you here to give you this." He reached into the inside pocket of his silk-lined jacket and pulled out a folded document.

She cleared her throat. "Don't tell me. You've made another amendment to your proposal and demanded my soul as well."

He didn't flinch, didn't speak, but something about the hurt in his eyes made her feel lower than an ant's belly.

"Why don't you take a look?"

Rolling her eyes like an adolescent taking a lousy report from a teacher, she snatched the offending document and opened it, prepared to skim the print before folding it and flinging it back in his face.

However, her nasty intentions evaporated the minute her eyes focussed on the new owner of the gallery.

"What the—" She blinked and made a frantic grab at the recently released curl, winding it around her finger over and over, seeing the print but not quite believing it.

"It's yours," he said, shrugging his broad shoulders as if he purchased galleries for exorbitant amounts of money and bestowed them on needy artists every day.

She shook her head and read the final few lines of the document again, before lifting her head and staring at him in open-mouthed shock. "This is some kind of joke, right?"

"Of course not. I know how much the gallery means to you. This way, you won't have to worry about losing it ever again."

He spoke so calmly, so rationally, as if presenting her with sale papers for the gallery bearing her name as owner was nothing out of the ordinary.

"I don't get it." Ariel took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hoping the oxygen rush would clear her head. It didn't. She propped against a nearby wall, needing support at her back before she crumpled in an undignified heap.

If the realisation that she loved Cooper had her in a spin, it was nothing on the mind-numbing revelation that he'd bought the gallery for her.

The big question was why?

"I worked out a few things this afternoon and thought you'd appreciate the gesture." He shrugged. "As much as you want to deny it, I think we have a chance at being more than friends in the future and I wanted you to give us a chance without worrying about business stuff."

More than friends…

In an instant, the befuddled fog clouding Ariel's mind lifted and with a flash of blinding clarity, she knew exactly why Cooper had been so generous.

The resulting knowledge made her want to vomit.

"I'm not for sale," she said, each word uttered with icy precision as she handed him back the document that burned her fingertips with its treachery. "So we had sex? Big deal. It doesn't mean you can buy me for a few more cheap thrills. Nice to know what you think of me, though."

Anger flared in Cooper's eyes, sparking sapphire shards of fury. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm not trying to buy you. I just want this damn business sorted so we can get on with things."

"What things?" She kept her tone silky smooth when in reality she longed to knee him where it hurt the most.

He made a grab for her hands and she jerked away, his offer fluttering to the floor between them. "Don't pretend there's nothing between us. You feel the heat as much as I do. Is it so wrong to want to explore that further? To see whether there's a chance for a couple like us?"

Ariel wanted to run but couldn't move, trapped in the intensity of his stare, wishing he didn't have the power to make her pulse race and her heart turn over.

"There's no chance."

The knowledge stabbed her anew. They were too different, too conflicted, and his actions today spoke volumes. When the going got tough, he bought his way out of a situation.

For guys like Cooper Vance, money talked.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't listen. She couldn't. She'd learned long ago that no matter how desperate or hungry or cold, there had to be a line you shouldn't cross. Now, Cooper had unwittingly drawn that line and she wouldn't cross it.

If nothing else, she still had her pride.

She rummaged through her bag until she found what she was looking for. "Here. I think this is what you want."

She slapped the signed proposal in his hand and closed his fingers over it.

"This isn't what I want." Cooper shook his head and tried to give it back to her. "What I want is you."

Pain, fierce and deep, twisted her gut until she almost cried out with the agony of it. "Like I already said, I'm not for sale."

Without waiting a second longer, Ariel turned and walked towards the exit, praying her tears wouldn't turn to sobs before she made it out the front door.

"Ariel, wait!"

Ignoring Cooper's desperate plea, she picked up the pace, wishing she'd worn her ballet flats rather than three inch wedges today. That's all she needed, to break an ankle to match her broken heart.

"Please Ariel. I need you."

Her steps slowed as she reached the far end of the plush foyer, the front door in sight. She could've bolted for it, heels be damned. Instead, the moment Cooper laid a hand on her shoulder, she swivelled to face him, unsure whether to swing her bag at him or delve in it for a wad of tissues.

"What did you just say?" She tilted her head up, ignoring the tears pouring down her face as she eyeballed the jerk responsible for them.

"I need you." With infinite tenderness, he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I need you. I want you. I can't imagine my life without you."

Once his thumbs stilled, he cupped her face, staring into her eyes like he meant every word.

As if.

Looked like he'd pulled out every weapon in his arsenal to win this contest. If he couldn't buy her, he'd schmooze her, just like he had from the very beginning.

"There's a word for what you're experiencing. Insanity."

"You think I'm crazy? Fine." He lowered his hands to clasp hers, holding on so tight her fingers tingled. "Tell me what you see."

His soft, husky tone took her back to the exact moment she'd asked him the same thing, his disappointing response, and the realisation at the time of the yawning gap between them.

The sad thing, nothing had changed since that day in the gallery when she'd done her best to show him what sort of a person she was, what was important to her.

Cooper only saw what he wanted to see and that would never change. For him, the world was black and white, a place filled with money and property and fancy cars, a world she could never belong or feel comfortable in no matter how serious his intentions.

"Let me go—"

"Tell me what you see." He squeezed her hands, his steady gaze never leaving hers for a second.

She rolled her eyes, knowing she had to put an end to this fiasco sooner rather than later. Her heart had already fragmented a few minutes ago when he'd thought he could buy her, no use letting it shatter altogether and do permanent damage to her insides.

"Fine. You want to know what I see? I see a big-headed, overconfident, pompous jerk who thinks he can buy everything he wants."

He didn't blink.

He didn't flinch.

Ariel found herself battling tears again at the cruel words she'd uttered in the name of severing ties with the guy she loved once and for all.

"Want to know what I see?"

"Not really." Her defiant act would've worked better if her breath didn't hitch and come out sounding like a pathetic sob.

"I'll tell you anyway."

To her amazement, he smiled, a gentle smile totally at odds with his usual confident grin and it almost undid her completely.

"I see a beautiful woman filled with fire and passion and conviction. A woman who gives her all to keep a promise. A woman who steals my breath away with how much I love her…" He trailed off and for a moment, Ariel wondered if her frazzled brain had conjured up the words she wanted to hear.

"Yeah, I love you. Go figure?" He tugged on their linked hands and she leaned towards him, powerless to stop the swift, fierce kiss he slanted across her lips as if branding her as his.

"You love me?" She murmured, pulling back to stare at his face while wishing he'd kiss her again and again until she didn't have to think anymore.

He nodded, his blue eyes glowing with an emotion that could only be labelled love, its warmth radiating and infusing her with a bone-melting heat.

"I love every crazy bit of you, from that over-stressed curl you keep winding around your finger to the bottoms of those outlandish shoes you wear and every delicious inch in between." He placed a finger under her chin and tipped it up, his gaze drifting to her lips with the goofiest expression on his face. "I love you, Ariel Wallace. So what do you think about that?"

"I think you've been spending too much time at the studio and those paint fumes have affected you as much as they've affected me."

The corners of his delightful mouth twitched. "Does that mean—"

"Yeah, you lunatic. I love you too. Don't ask me why because we're as opposite as two people can get but somehow, I've fallen for you."

"Such words of love. Be still my beating heart." He grinned and placed her hand on his heart with his hand covering it.

Ariel grinned back, enjoying that his heart pumped as hard and fast as hers and wondering exactly how much more their respective organs could take when they moved past the kissing part onto the good stuff again.

"You know I'll still paint and run the gallery and wear funky fashion?"

He pressed his lips to hers in a slow, lingering kiss, the type of kiss that her melding to him, wishing their clothes would disappear, and they could find themselves miraculously in a private place.

"You know I'll still acquire land and develop properties and wear suits and ties?"

She shrugged, staring up at him from beneath her lashes. "I suppose I can learn to live with it."

"But can you learn to live with this?"

His hot, open-mouthed kiss had her hankering for more, a lifetime more.