Jude's Law Excerpt 2
May had the uncanny ability to sense a change in his mood, and she launched back into chatter. "I do have some new paintings from this wonderfully talented girl, Giselle Newton. She's only twenty-three if you can believe that. I'd love to show them to you. Her collection blew me away. She screams talent. She does these really bold interpretations -"
Jude interrupted her by holding out a hand. "Lead the way."
With the topic back on art and off her personally, May became animated and enthusiastic. She forged through the crowd while Jude dutifully followed. Hell, he loved walking behind May. She had this perky little way of almost bouncing on her low-heeled pumps, as if she couldn't contain her passion for art and her delight with the gallery.
She darted beyond the crowds toward the back where special lighting showcased larger paintings. Few people mingled here, probably because the size and pricing of the pieces put them well out of range.
Over her shoulder, May said, "I'd love to see Giselle get a little attention. And we both know whenever you buy a piece, the artist's reputation grows overnight."
True, because every half-ass newspaper and gossip magazine recorded his every move. Thinking that, Jude gave a subtle scan of the gallery's interior. Photographers lurked in every corner, trying to fit in, trying to be inconspicuous.
Vultures.
He detested them all, but never would he show it. Back in the fighting days of his youth, he'd gotten used to cameras. Unlike many of the competitors in the much-criticized, no-holds-barred Supreme Battle Challenge, known as the SBC, he'd kept his face intact. No broken noses, disfiguring scars or cauliflower ears for him.
Celebrities, icons in the business world, and the rich and famous, all attended and bet on the fights. After winning both the middleweight and light heavyweight belts, his popularity grew and the sport named him an SBC representative. Hollywood noticed him. He received invitations to the right places by both men and women alike.
From there, producers came knocking, first with bit parts, then lead roles.
Almost overnight, his life changed for the better - and then for the worst. His ability to kick ass, to never quit, to ruthlessly submit other fighters, went from being an admired quality to a suspicious trait. After all, any man who could break his opponent's arm or dislocate his shoulder without remorse was surely capable of murdering a young woman. Right?
Fucking idiots.
The photographers' presence didn't deserve his attention, so Jude looked right through them. He nodded at a few locals who went wide-eyed and twittered in return, turned down a drink offered by a passing worker, and pretended not to see the gaggle of young women batting their eyes at him and licking their lips.
He turned away.
May took one look at him and softened. "I'm sorry. This must be difficult for you."
"It doesn't matter." Jude studied one particularly vibrant painting in immense proportions. He found himself drawn into the scene, reacting to the peaceful emotion depicted, the soothing brush strokes.
"Five feet long, three feet high," May enthused. "She set the canvas herself. It'll be even more impressive once framed. I don't know about your furnishings, but to complement the painting, I envision a three-inch wide Grenoble style, probably in a bronze or silver, maybe half an inch rabbet trimmed in black... But we can decide on that later." Teeming with expectation, May leaned around to see his face. "Don't you just love the colors? And that definition? And -"
"Yes." In a unique, 360-degree angle, the artist had painted an abandoned, weathered barn, offset by trees of brilliant fall color and endless azure sky. Only a stark black crow perched on a broken fencepost showed life near what had probably once been a working farm.
Jude didn't look at the price. "I'll take it."
For two heartbeats, May went speechless. "Really?" Her hands clasped together and she went to her tiptoes. "That's wonderful! I wasn't certain about it, you know. I mean, it's so large that not many of the homes in the area could accommodate it, but -"
"Before I leave, I want you to show me those framing suggestions." Jude took her elbow. "For now, I want to see the rest of her work."
CHAPTER TWO
Within half an hour, Jude had purchased three more pieces and May could barely contain herself. She could tell he really loved the work. He talked about the scenes with her, the techniques used, and they agreed that Giselle was a most talented young lady. Discussing art with Jude had turned into one of her favorite pastimes. Out of all of Stillbrook, he seemed to be the only one who shared her love of art.
Except for the photographers intruding, mentally spinning ridiculous tales about Jude to go with the various photos they took, things were perfect. After his odd mood when he'd first arrived, and all that silly sexual banter, meant to be teasing she was sure, she had started to doubt the success of the evening.
But now, not only had Jude purchased some remarkable pieces to add to his collection, he wanted her to have them all framed, too.
Still bubbling with success, May led him to a large back room that held her framing supplies, worktables and numerous shelves. She could hear the crowd in the outer room, probably gossiping about Jude. If only they'd buy something... but they never did. They didn't have Jude's appreciation of talent, his eye for quality, or his aesthetic judgment.
Choosing only what she thought would complement the artwork and Jude's home, May arranged frame samples on a worktable. With him on one side of the table and her on the other, she displayed the pieces between them.
"When can you have them delivered?"
"Once you make your choices, it won't take long to frame them. Maybe a couple of days."
"All right."
She folded her hands together and waited for him to peruse the collection. But when she glanced up, Jude's gaze was on her chest, not the frame samples. Heat uncoiled inside her. Feeling awkward, she tugged at the lapels of her suit, trying to hide herself. But like a Rubenesque model, her generous proportions bulged out everywhere.
She glanced up - and got caught in Jude's gaze.
"Well," she prompted, feeling very agitated and confused. "What do you think? Will any of these work with your décor?"
Rather than answer, he said, "I'm wondering about something."
May tried to joke her way around her sudden unease. "Uh oh. With you, that's usually a bad sign." She tipped her head, smiling brightly.
"Do you ever wear anything besides suits?"
The question had her blinking twice, and emotionally retreating. "I'm a business woman." She straightened her glasses and smoothed her hands over the front of the jacket, but the lapels wouldn't lie flat, not with her more than ample bust.
"And business women can't wear anything else?"
No matter what she wore, the fit was off. Not that she'd let Jude know how he disconcerted her. She'd long ago accepted herself and if he got his jollies by teasing her, well, so what? He made up for it in art purchases. "Like?"
His gaze slipped over her body. "Something slinky."
"Right." Her laugh sounded strained, rather than natural. "Slinky is for ultra thin models."
Jude paused, studying her expression as if he sensed her discomfort. "Slinky is for showing your curves."
"Yeah, well..." She made a face. "I've got plenty of those."
Her sarcasm couldn't be missed, and she groaned. She wanted to bite back the words, but it was too late. Already, Jude scrutinized her.
"I agree." He reached across the table and touched her cheek. "You have sexy, very noticeable curves. You should show them off instead of trying to hide them."
May went still, held in anticipation and uncertainty. Slowly, he trailed his finger down her jaw, her throat, over her collarbone.
Her glasses nearly fogged. "I'm on the round side and I know it."
"You're gorgeous."
"I -"
He dipped that teasing finger into her cleavage, and then up and over the swell of one breast. He sounded hoarse when he said, "And hot."
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