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swimming in garlic butter, platters full of antipasti, and plates of barely singed steak, which was a
delicious delicacy for shifters.
 I m not hungry, she said, trying to suck the drool back into her mouth. Her stomach growled in
protest, a long, low rumble that she was sure could be heard outside on the street.
 I hate you very much, she said, plopping herself down at the table.
 I m sure you do. But you won t hate this dinner. He began ladling pasta on to her plate, and she
barely stifled a moan of pleasure. He didn t stop until her plate was heaped high with samples of
everything from the table, and then he sat down and served himself as well.
Chloe struggled not to be horribly self-conscious as she ate. Was she chewing too loudly? Did the
women that Kenneth dated even eat, at all? From the pictures she d seen of him online, he was
attracted to bony, glamorous skeletors with impeccably blow-dried hair.
 Enjoying the dinner?
She chewed and swallowed a bite of garlicy bow-tie pasta.
 My compliments to the chef. By the way, she said,  There was a man named Alfonse, at the party,
who now seems to be following me. He claims he s representing some clients who have an interest
in my grandmother and that artwork. He also seemed to know something about you.
 Is that a fact. Such as? She could swear Kenneth s eyes had suddenly taken on a green glow.
 Well, basically& he said you couldn t be trusted. He said that everything that you do, you have your
own agenda.
At the mention of Alfonse, Kenneth had set his fork down and now he radiated tension like a stretched
wire.  Everybody has their own agenda. What else did he say?
 That was about it. I couldn t help but think that it has something to do with those art thefts. Suddenly
you re interested in me, he s interested in me& 
Kenneth s eyes definitely were glowing green. As if he were green with envy.
 He s interested in you how? he asked, with a polite smile that resembled that of a cat about to
pounce.
 Purely on a business level, she said, irritated. He had no call to be acting jealous of her.
 I see, he replied coolly.
 So, what news do you have for me?
 Well, I now know why there s the sudden interest in this artwork. It was only recently that it
resurfaced; before that, my family wasn t even aware that it existed. About six months ago, there
was an earthquake that damaged our house in Italy, and when they were assessing the damage, they
found a sealed off and hidden room there, with a collection of artwork in it. It was the Sumerian
artwork.
 Didn t your grandfather originally bring it back here to his house in New York?
 Yes, but if your grandmother was trying to steal it from him, it makes sense that he d ship it overseas
and hide it. Kenneth scooped up a bite of raspberry mousse from a silver bowl, and held it out to
her.  Try a bite. I insist.
She let him slide the spoon into her mouth and swallowed the bite of mousse. Sweet raspberry heaven
caressed her tongue and slid down her throat like silk. Before she could stop herself, she let out a
little whimper of pleasure.
Kenneth had her pinned her chair with his gaze. Now his eyes were blue again.
 You like? he purred.
A wave of heat washed over her, and her panties went damp. She felt as if jolts of electricity were
shooting down her nerve endings.
 Not bad, she choked out.
She couldn t move, couldn t speak for a second.
 Artwork, she managed, finally.
 Yes, the dessert is a work of art.
 No. Your artwork. You were telling me about the artwork.
 Anyway, Kenneth continued,  There was no indication as to why the room had been sealed off or
what he was trying to hide. The artwork was taken out and put on display. It was divided up
between my house in Italy and my house in France. A magazine did a feature on my art collection,
which included pictures of those new pieces. It was after the magazine came out that the thefts of the
artwork occurred. I have a very large collection of artwork, which my family has been collecting
from all over the world for decades, and I d barely paid any notice when this new collection
surfaced. But clearly, this artwork is very important not just to your grandmother but to many others,
and we need to find out why. Here, try another bite.
He scooped up another bite of mousse and held the spoon to her lips. Despite herself, she found her
lips parting and she closed her mouth around the spoon and slowly pulled away, as the sweet
raspberry foam melted on to her tongue.
He watched her intently, his eyes glowing. He was reveling in the pleasure that he d just given her.
That hot, sensual feeling jolted through her body again, and if he d leaned forward to kiss her, she
would have been powerless to stop him. Desire sizzled through her nerves and synapses, and she felt
faint. How could she survive an entire plane ride sitting next to this man, much less spending days and
days under the same roof with him?
She pushed her chair back and stood up quickly. She needed to get out of her before she embarrassed
herself even further. If he kept spoon feeding her mousse, she was likely to orgasm right there at the
table.
 I could& I could probably just looked at photographs of the artwork, and-
 No, this is too important. You can miss a lot if you re just looking at a photograph. You ll need to
come to my house in Italy; I ve moved all of the remaining artwork in the collection there, where it s
under guard.
She narrowed her eyes at him.  This trip will be strictly professional. You re not blackmailing me
into having sex with you.
 Blackmailing? My dear, when it happens, I assure you, it will be because you want it to. He winked
at her, stood up, and walked away, chuckling at her muttered curses.
Chapter Eight
The country of Turak [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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