Page 107 of Disarming Caine

“Not mentioning I could cook was an intentional surprise, not a secret, you know.” I cleaned up after myself and rounded the counter to sit next to her. “Is this hunger sated yet?”

Her eyes snapped open, and she covered her mouth as she laughed. “Not yet, Ferraro. Besides—” She snaked one of her legs around mine. “—I passed Lucy on the way out, so I know we’ve got the place all to ourselves again. Plus, I’m off work the rest of the week.”

My heart leapt. “You are?”

She nodded, leaning in as I pulled her face to kiss her cheeks. “Sort of. Elliot wants me to follow up on the Constable theft. I just need a private space to do some research.”

“We already made space for you on the desk upstairs.” I winked, and the blush was already climbing her lovely face. “I may have to order a new monitor after we broke the other one this morning.”

Her face fell into her hands, the crimson shade all the way up her forehead. That desk was not built for romance.

“And I’ll join you. I’m feeling inspired to paint.”

“I’d like that.” The hands dragged down her face as she looked up at me. “But I want to start tonight. Food, sex, then work.”

“I would question the order of your priorities,” I said with a wink. “But I suppose for one night, I can agree to this.”

Chapter 37

Antonio

Threehourslater,wewere working. She sat at my computer desk while I stood in front of an easel. Alternative rock played through speakers in the ceiling. It was quiet enough we could chat, but loud enough I could sing along.

How could life get any better than this?

“You could paint a landscape.” Samantha didn’t have to lift her head from her paperwork for me to know she was rolling her eyes at me.

I hummed aloud, staring at her from around the side of my canvas. “No, I’m not in the mood for that.”

But if she didn’t look at me, how could I wink at her? Or smirk at her? She was stealing all the fun out of the room with her seriousness.

“And you should put your shirt back on,” she said with a chuckle.

“I prefer to paint in lounge pants.” I reoriented myself behind the easel so I could no longer see her at the long desk. Three blues and greens combined, and they were still not quite the right shade for her eyes. Some white, a yellow—I’d have it eventually. “Plus, I like the extra glint in your eye. I want to capture that.”

“The glint of exasperation?”

“I’m fairly certain that’s not the correct word.” I leaned my head to the side, winking at her when she glanced up. “Now get back to your work before I do something else to put that look in your eye.”

Another laugh as the printer next to her clicked a few times and spit out more papers. She took a sip from her wineglass and spun the chair to the high laboratory bench behind her, adding the sheets to her collection. Standing to study them, she leaned on her elbows, a stance which provided a breathtaking view of her long legs. She’d thrown on her tiny gray sleep shorts and one of my navy T-shirts after making love, knotting it at her waist just as she knotted her hair into a loose bun.

Her ass was stunning in those little shorts, not to mention the lean muscle of her legs. And the way she shimmied back and forth to the music made my blood stir. I could paint that long V-shape from her hips to her toes, but she likely wouldn’t appreciate it.

I placed my brush aside, retrieving a palette knife. Abstract. That was the solution. If she realized what I’d painted, I could tell her it was her own interpretation and not my intention. “I worked on a Constable once.”

“Hmm?” Her voice was distant, as engrossed in her task as she’d been for the last two hours.

“Under my father’s very close eye, several years ago.”

“I got to watch one of the in-house conservators working on one at the British Museum.”

“The summer you worked with Thomas?” I knew precious little about that time in her life. Thomas had been as tight-lipped about it as she was. They both claimed nothing romantic, but I had a feeling there was some history there, despite the nine-year age gap.

“Yeah.” She chuckled. “You think I work a lot now? You should have seen me then. I spent most of my waking hours bouncing between there, the V&A, National Gallery, and the Tate. Lots of options in London.”

“You’ve not mentioned ever going back?”

“No.” She sighed, looking up from her paperwork for a moment, but not turning around. “Too busy working.”