Dominick.
I froze, doing my best to hide my nerves and my anger. The man had the audacity to treat me in a despicable manner the night before then show up here? Was the bastard stalking me? The arrogant bastard. Huffing, I shrank back and calmed my breathing before finding him again. He stood in all his glory, a handsomely tailored suit accentuating his rugged physique and long, muscular legs. I could only imagine the fine linen cost more than ten of my paintings. What I couldn't get over was how relaxed and carefree he seemed, standing with one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around a crystal rocks glass. He was chic, every aspect of him coiffed in a casual manner. No socks. No tie.
There wasn't a woman who hadn't undressed him with their eyes.
I took a deep breath, clenched my fists, and walked closer. "Do I have you to thank for purchasing my paintings?"
He barely darted a look in my direction, instead lifting his hand, pointing with his index finger at the painting that had drawn his attention. "Your bold use of color is evocative, seductive in a manner that I doubt many would understand. Even the long sweeping brushstrokes indicate coveted submission while highlighting strength of character. I'm very impressed with your work, Caroline."
The way my name slipped off his tongue was like smooth spun silk on a sunny afternoon. I hated to admit that I was stunned at his level of interest and trained eye, but in truth, I was. My work had been labeled provocative by more than one critic, erotic by another, yet he captured the essence in a mere paragraph where the critics had difficulty in four or more. "Thank you, Dominick. Painting is my joy, an unremitting passion."
He lifted an eyebrow and finally glanced in my direction. The sensual smile was similar to the night before, but I shivered from the increased level of authority laced in every word. "Very obvious. Your love of darkness is creative, telling of your personality."
My nip*ples ached, becoming fully er*ect and pressing against the thin lace of my bra. Everything about this man was intense, drawing me in, but I sensed he was dangerous in every fashion. I hadn't taken the opportunity to find out who he was and the pointed questions to my father the night before hadn't garnered any information. He was already out of the house by the time I'd awakened, a handwritten note left behind, apologizing for missing the showing.
As if he gave a shit.
Dominick walked toward another painting, taking his time studying the piece. "Your father mentioned you were a brilliant painter and I just had to see for myself."
"You know my father well?"
"He and I have worked in various aspects of business over the years. He'll make a fine president. Less pomp and circumstance."
I laughed. "Now I know you're lying. Not only could you not care less but my father is all about pomp and circumstance."
His eyes shimmered as he flashed them in my direction. "And this one I believe is my favorite. The lines remind me of a woman disciplined for her disobedience but accepting that the punishment was vital to her very well being."
I had no idea what to say, the words haunting. Butterflies settled in my stomach, returning from the night before.
As Audrey approached, I shook my head, trying to warn her off. She refused, taking longer strides in our direction, the look of concern mixed with rampant curiosity.
"Audrey Taylor. And you are?"
"Dominick Lugiano." He gave her a polite nod, taking the glass of wine out of her hand.
She narrowed her eyes, waiting for me to give her the sign. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." I knew my words were clipped, raspy.
"Hmmm... I'll be over here if you need me. Be careful with my girl. She's very special." She gave Dominick a dirty look before sauntering off. I knew she'd watch me like a hawk.
"Yes, special indeed. You don't need a bodyguard, Caroline, but you do need authority as well as someone to care for you." He lowered the drink, his hand lingering until our fingers touched. His eyes were mesmerizing, as blue as any I'd ever seen, the stark contrast to his midnight hair more striking than I remembered.
The electricity skyrocketed, much like it had done the night before. I swallowed, loathing the fact my panties were already damp. "I need a significant number of things in my life, but domination isn't one of them."
"I didn't use the word domination, Caroline, but I disagree with you."
I gathered a scent of my desire wafting between us. Embarrassed and humiliated, I took a purposeful step back, blocking out his obvious advances. He seemed hell bent on seduction.
"Let's cut the chit-chat. Why did you purchase my paintings, Dominick?"
"You are talented, and your style suits my needs."
"And what are your needs?" I regretted the question as soon as I'd asked. He was like every other man, requiring payment for his good will in another form. Fuck him. I wasn't that kind of girl.
He took his time, taking a sip of his drink as he gazed at the painting again. "I'm a dangerous man, Caroline. Some would say I'm evil by nature, but I value and appreciate beautiful things. I require them in my home and in my life. My needs center around enjoyment."
I brought the glass to my lips, uncertain of any rebuttal that wouldn't sound contrived. Or more curious, giving him another opening.
"No need to answer me, Caroline. Your paintings allow me to see the woman inside. You've been hardened by your father's work as well as his lack of attention. You long for someone to cherish and adore you while also taking care of your desires and every infraction in a strict manner. There hasn't been a man in your life who has been able to provide anything close. You require a man who will take the time to peel away the layers, allowing you to feel safe while experimenting in the various passionate encounters you represent in your paintings."
I laughed, my stomach now in knots. "And you're that man?"
He turned toward me, crowding my space. "I have many sides, Caroline, but above all I demand respect and obedience from my employees and from the women I choose to allow into my life."
His words filtered into my mind much like his exotic cologne ignited my every sense, tingling my pussy. Exotic, filled with testosterone, I was intoxicated by the man himself. My lower lip quivered, disabling my ability to make a witty comeback.
"Mr. Lugiano. I do have some paperwork for you to deal with." Mr. Reynolds walked into the periphery of my vision, a folder in his hand. I had the distinct feeling they'd known each other before. Another shiver trickled down my spine.