At first, I occupied myself with listening to the other guests' opinions of the artwork, but I would occasionally catch some of them watching me which set my nerves on edge. It wasn't someone looking my way that felt off; it was a few of them blatantly staring at me that gave me the creeps. Was I that out of place? Or was it Candace's dress? I steered away from the art critics and went to see how Candie was doing. Taking in the dance floor from the safety of the wall, I watched Candace glue herself to a guy with too much gel in his hair. At least she was having fun. Between dances, she would talk to a group of gorgeous people that had gathered near her. She was reveling in the attention. I could see the victory in her eyes from here, and when she spotted me, she winked. Since I wasn't planning on dancing, I decided to leave before Candace pulled me into it. I wandered into a different exhibit room. Specifically, the most secluded one I could find. It was the Marcel Dubois exhibit, not one of the ever-changing collections that passed from gallery to gallery. Most of the guests had probably seen this exhibit before and didn't bother with it tonight. I walked along the walls, munching on crostini and regretting Candace's choice in my footwear. I paused in a particularly dim corner to rest my feet, hide, and eat. "Beautiful," a gravelly voice rumbled over my shoulder, causing me to jump. I whirled around to see a man in a finely tailored suit. He had dark hair just long enough to pull back in a ponytail, and dancing green eyes. This creature was a walking sin. "What?" I replied stupidly, then swallowed my mouthful of petit fours. My heart threatened to burst right through my chest in surprise, I hadn't heard him coming at all. "The paintings, they're beautiful. Don't you think?" he asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Yes," I answered shortly, tripping over my own tongue. I set my plate on a table behind me, hoping he hadn't seen me stuffing my face. He laughed softly. A low, comfortable sound that crawled up my back and whispered dark promises in my ears. "Much better than the grey eyesores out front, but I suppose that's what's 'in' now." He smiled at me again, and I actually snorted a laugh. Then I turned bright red. Somebody kill me before I make it worse! I immediately moved my focus to the artwork. Hopefully, he couldn't see my face in the dim lighting, only the lights over the artwork were bright. "Is this your first time to L'Atelier Rouge?" The 'R' in the French word rolled down my skin and sank into my stomach like hot coals. "Yes, it is." I could barely get the words out. Why was he talking to me anyway? It had to be obvious I wasn't rich or sophisticated like the other guests. "Marvelous. Would you enjoy a private tour?" He grinned, a wicked emotion dancing across his lips. "Do you know much about the art, then?" I asked, taking a small step towards a painting and away from him. This was the most dangerous kind of man. The kind that would chew up and spit out a boring girl like me in an instant. I had to get away from him. Candie... help! "I should hope so." His green eyes glinted as he stepped forward, closing the distance I had just put between us. "I own the gallery." "Oh," I breathed. What do I say to that? 'Oh hello, Mr. rich and cultured businessman, I'm Thea. I just graduated from community college and I know nothing about modern art. I would love to waste your time with a tour of your gallery!' But he didn't seem the least bit concerned as he continued. "This series here are some of his earliest landscapes." I nodded to the wall he indicated and we inspected them closer. Masterfully painted, even to my amateur eye. I recognized the nearby lake, a field of wheat, and his own greenhouse studio. He led me through the exhibit, showing me painting after painting until we reached the farthest wall. It was like I was in a trance. I couldn't take my eyes off of him until he pointed me to the next painting. His every suggestion pulled at me, and I couldn't help but comply. "Here, you can see the difference in his later years of work. For instance..." He swept an arm before him. "This was one of Marcel's last pieces before he passed. Near the end of his life, he would claim to see things in the forest. Fairytales come to life." The moment his lips stopped moving, my eyes snapped to the art. The painting was a dark line of trees behind rows of gorgeous pink lilies, the sun shining on the grass before the forest. Behind the green branches, a blackness contrasted the sunny field. Eerie eyes peered out from behind the tree trunks. I wouldn't have noticed them if they hadn't been pointed out to me. He moved, drawing my attention again, the gentle scent of his cologne brushing my nose. He stepped backwards, eyes on me, and without looking away he waved at another painting. "This one is a personal favorite," he purred. Despite myself, I walked towards him, breaking eye contact at the last minute to stare at the painting. It was a little girl with a bouquet of wildflowers as big as she was. Her smile was missing a front tooth, and it wasn't until I looked closer that it almost seemed like her ears were pointed. "What do you think of Marcel's work?" He had crept in close without me noticing. His sudden, rolling voice sent a chill down my spine. "He was a very skilled painter." I took a step back, licking my dry lips. "If not a bit eccentric in the end." He threw his head back and laughed, my chest tightened at the sound. I took a step back, watching those green eyes dance. "Yes, I suppose eccentric is an excellent word for Marcel." He straightened his silver tie and offered me a hand. "I'm afraid I've babbled on about Marcel and haven't even introduced myself yet. My name is Devin." "I'm..." I gave him my hand to shake, but instead, he brought my fingers to his lips, kissing them gently. My entire arm tingled. His eyes locked on mine and I could feel the heat on my face. I must look like a tomato about now. "Yes?" he mused, letting my hand go. "Thea!" Candace called from the front of the room. My eyes darted to her, wine glass in one hand, heels in the other. She was definitely drunk off her ass. "Thea." Devin smiled that wicked smile and tasted my name in his mouth. "Thea. It was nice to meet you, Thea. If you ever want to know more about Marcel Dubois, you know where to find me." "Uh, right." I swallowed, watching him turn slowly and walk away down a dark hall. Candace wobbled towards me, her face flushed. "Thea, dance with me," she slurred, then blinked watching Devin walk away. "Who'sh the hottie?" "Uh." I blushed and looked at Candace. "The owner, I think." "Well his ass should be under one of these damn spotlights!" she said, a little too loudly. Several heads turned our way, and I definitely heard a few giggles. "What time is it? I've only been in here a few minutes and you're already drunk." I sighed. "Psh, it's been hours, Thea. Look!" Candace flicked her phone to life and held it to my face so I could see the time. My jaw dropped. Sure enough, it was much later than I could have imagined. I looked down at the state Candace was in and my mouth formed a grim line. "Come on, Candie, we're getting you home," I mumbled. "I think we've both had enough for tonight."