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SAM STILLED AFTER HE’D walked through the gallery doors, spotting Ava standing there shining in the spotlight. Glossy, strawberry-blonde hair spilled down her shoulders, brushing against her creamy cleavage. A well-fitting dress hugged her curves and hit at mid-thigh, showing off toned, sexy legs. Strappy, high-heeled sandals gave her a couple of extra inches, and for a flash, he imagined her wearing those and nothing else.
Ava looked like a goddess. Ethereal. Confident. Beaming.
He caught the surprise on her face as he walked in, and she quickly schooled her expression. Even from across the room he could see the way her breath hitched, her breasts rising and pushing against the tight dress.
He affected her, whether she’d admit as much or not. Desire coiled within him. Despite the time and space between them, he loved knowing she hadn’t forgotten either.
Sam stayed where he was in the background, and he could tell she was a touch nervous. She was still smiling, her cheeks flushed, but her gaze flickered to him only once more before she proceeded to look at anyone and everyone else.
Sam remembered the pretty flush that had spread over her ivory skin as he’d thoroughly pleasured her. Made her cry out his name and come undone at his touch.
She turned to her right, the waves in her silky hair dancing around her breasts with the movement. Every man in the room was staring at her, and he felt a possessiveness rising within him. He had no claim on her, no right to want her so badly, but that didn’t stop the caveman inside him demanding to make her his and his alone.
“I’m thrilled you’re all here tonight,” Ava said, looking back at the crowd. “Art is my passion—my reason and purpose. I’ve traveled the world with my sketchbooks, but no place is like New York. These pieces showcase life in the city, true New Yorkers, and I hope you’ll appreciate them as much as I do. I tried to capture the big and small—all the moments. I’ll be traveling more this summer for work, but you can follow along on social media to see my work. Hopefully we’ll meet here again in the fall,” she said, winking at the gallery director as the audience chuckled. “And now—enjoy your evening! I’m here to answer any questions or talk about the art world in general. Thank you again for coming.”
Sam was moving without thought as she stepped away from the microphone. Stay in the background be dammed. He’d congratulate her—and glare at any man who dared get too close.
The gallery door opened behind him, and Sam hastened a glance back to see a Middle Eastern man step in. He wasn’t looking at any of the artwork but moved through the crowd, pulling out his cell phone to snap a few pictures. Sam felt his hackles rising. No one else seemed to be photographing the evening’s guests. Everyone else was focused on the art work and Ava.
Luke caught his gaze, and Sam nodded once, cocking his head toward the guy. Luke moved toward the man, who quickly slid his phone into his pocket as he saw Luke coming and made a hasty exit. Luke followed him to the door, stepping outside.
Sam stepped in front of the gallery owner as she passed by. “Who was that man taking photos? He came in a minute ago and walked through the crowd.”
“The photojournalist?” she asked in confusion.
Sam followed her gaze to another man who was adjusting the settings on a professional camera. “No. Some guy just popped in with a cell phone. He snapped pictures of the crowd and Ava and then walked back out.”
The gallery owner didn’t look concerned. “It’s probably just a college kid. They like to post pictures on social media of events around the city. We’ve been publicizing this.”
Sam clenched his jaw. “No. This guy was older, maybe in his late-thirties.”
“Was he causing problems?” she asked, suddenly looking nonplussed. “Where is he now?”
“He already left.”
The gallery director’s gaze slid to the door as Luke walked back in, Wren moving to his side. “Well, it’s not an invitation-only event. We’re always looking to get word out about our artists and showings. If someone wants to post photos of the gallery’s events online, I’m not opposed to it. We can use the publicity. Let me know if you see him again.”
“Will do,” Sam said with a frown. The woman hurried off, snagging a glass of champagne and hurrying toward an older couple. No doubt she was anxious to make a few sales this evening. Ava’s paintings were incredible, but he knew it was about the money as much as the art. This was a business, and the gallery owner needed to pay her rent just like everyone else.
Sam stalked toward Ava, hearing her laughter from across the room. She truly was in her element, talking with guests and gesturing toward one wall filled with her art. Her slender hand pointed at one painting in particular, and he recalled the feeling of her nails raking down his back, her legs wrapped tightly around him.
She was leaving in seven days, and if he knew what was good for him, he’d turn around and walk the other way.
Sam moved closer.
“Ava,” he ground out.
She turned to look up at him, her lips thinning as she pressed them together. The guests were still chatting, but her blue eyes were focused only on Sam as she took a step toward him. Her hips shifted with the movement, and his eyes were briefly drawn to her shapely legs and sexy heels. Ava was a vixen. A goddess. The woman had him by the balls and didn’t even know it. “Sam,” she said cooly, her voice a contrast to the fire in her eyes. “I didn’t expect to see you here tonight. I wouldn’t think art shows would be of much interest to you.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I followed you all over Paris, princess. I seem to remember visiting multiple galleries that day.” His gaze briefly flicked around the room. “I have to admit, this is incredible. Right on par with the paintings we saw in Paris together. You’re extremely talented.”
Ava crossed her arms, which did nothing but draw his gaze toward her cleavage. Damn. The woman had pretty breasts. “Huh. Well, the past is in the past,” Ava said. “Thanks for coming.”
Sam grabbed her elbow before she could completely turn away. Her skin was so damn soft and smooth. Warm. He could easily see over her shoulder as he towered above her, looking down at the tops of her full breasts. If he buried his face in that silkiness, he knew he’d be surrounded by her floral scent. He could make it good for her. Kiss his way down her body and listen to her soft cries. Taste her ripe pussy. Sam knew exactly how to make her writhe and moan—and how it felt to sink balls deep inside of her.
She stilled, her breath catching. She looked straight ahead but hadn’t yanked her arm away. “Yes, Sam? Was there something else you needed to say?”
Ava finally pulled her arm from his grip but turned to look at him, those blue eyes all too knowing. Everything about Ava appealed to him. She was sexy, sassy, and talented as hell. Smart. Adventurous. And she didn’t take his shit either, which he appreciated. Ava was a woman who would tell it like it is, always keeping him on his toes. Just being around her made life more exciting, and that said a lot for a guy who was used to people shooting at him. Ava was the whole package, and he couldn’t bring himself to keep away.
“When’s your flight to Cairo?” he asked, his voice husky.
“Next Saturday, not that it’s any of your business.”
He studied her, noticing that she still hadn’t moved away from him. She enjoyed the game as much as he did. The push and pull. The electricity that always seemed to arc between them. It had been like that since the moment they met, although they’d been flirting, not fighting. “Be careful when you’re in Egypt. You know in my line of work we keep tabs on everything—all over the world,” he stressed. “It’s not the same as the large cities in Europe, where pickpockets are your primary concern. It’s dangerous.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said dryly.
“Will you?” he questioned.
“It’s just for the summer, Sam. It’s not like I’m moving to Cario for the rest of my life. You won’t even have time to miss me. I’m sure there are plenty of women to occupy your time while I’m gone for two months.”
“Maybe I don’t want other women,” he growled.
Her face fell slightly for the first time, her voice faltering. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve moved on, and you should, too.”
Sam let her turn and walk away, regret churning through him once more. There were plenty of other women he could pursue. She wasn’t wrong. But Ava was the one that haunted his dreams. If he was the type of man who believed in settling down and starting a family, he’d want it to be with someone like her. And in reality? Their nights could be so good together. Their days filled with adventures and laughs. Their weekends less lonely.
She might not need a man to warm her bed, but hell if he didn’t want to be that guy. Sam didn’t have time to smooth things over before she left next weekend, but when she returned?
He wasn’t letting Ava get away without a fight.
***
“OW,” AVA MUTTERED AT midnight, pausing on the stairwell as her shoes pinched her feet.
“Keep going, sister. Let’s have one last toast before we send everyone on their way,” Wren said. The women waved one last time to several friends who were descending down the stairwell before taking the rest of the stairs up to their friend’s apartment.
“It was so nice of Blair to host tonight,” Ava said as they walked in the front door. “I kind of feel like I should have hosted the party since it was my showing.”
“No way,” Wren said. “We’re celebrating you. The guest of honor doesn’t need to throw their own celebration. Besides, you know Blair. She was thrilled to plan a big bash and invite everyone she knows. I swear she should’ve gone into event planning rather than graphic design. And I saw her checking out some of Luke’s friends,” she added conspiratorially. “Maybe we can all triple date when you’re back.”
“Ha ha. No,” Ava said, rolling her eyes.
“Sam was watching you all night,” Wren pressed.
“Yep. I mean, I won’t deny there’s chemistry there, but I don’t trust him.”
Wren frowned, and Ava felt the tiniest twinge of guilt. She knew her bestie wanted Sam and her to get along, but he’d burned her. It’d be embarrassing to repeat the same mistake. No, make that mortifying. “It’s like the old saying,” Ava explained. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”
“I don’t think he was trying to fool you,” Wren hedged. “It was a bad decision. They have stressful jobs requiring their complete attention, and by the time he got back, weeks had passed. He didn’t think he should reply.”
Ava shrugged, trying to pretend it didn’t hurt. “He showed his true colors. Let’s have that last toast and head out.”
“There you girls are!” Blair exclaimed, her wavy, chestnut hair swishing around her shoulders as she moved toward them. The red dress she had on set off her porcelain skin, and Ava knew more than a few men at the gallery had noticed her this evening. “This was some after-party, wasn’t it girls? The drinks and apps at the gallery were fun, but I felt like I had to be on my best behavior with all the wealthy patrons there buying your pieces.”
Ava shook her head. “Agreed that some are a little stuffy, but they keep me in business. Some galleries are a little more hoity-toity than others, but it’s kind of fun to have my pieces shown in a variety of places. And this? My first solo show? I’m still on cloud nine.”
“It was amazing,” Wren gushed. “How many paintings did you sell?”
“I sold six tonight, which is really more than I could hope for. They were all large pieces. The gallery director hinted that a few people may come back to look again.”
“That’s fantastic,” Blair said. “I hope you get lots of media attention from this. I know I’ll be blasting pictures from the gallery and tagging you in all of them. Maybe The New York Times should do an article on you.”
Ava shrugged. “You never know what stories will get picked up.”
“If only you knew a reporter,” Blair teased.
“Hey, I’ll put in a good word for you,” Wren promised. “I might be an investigative journalist, but I’ve got connections. I feel like social media is really what gets the most buzz these days though. Once something goes viral, that’s it. You’ll get more attention and publicity than you ever dreamed of.”
“Absolutely. For better or worse,” Ava said, looking pointedly at Wren. Wren’s sister had gotten into trouble from posting too much online. Ironically, Wren had tracked her down because her kidnapper had also shared too much. If that wasn’t karma, she wasn’t sure what was. He preyed on teenage girls but got what was due to him.
Luke and Nick moved past them, helping to grab some empty cups and plates from around Blair’s apartment. “Thanks boys!” Blair called out, winking at Nick.
Ava raised her eyebrows.
“Oh, he’s a total flirt. Hunky, too. He’s kind of got that lethal thing down pat. I wouldn’t want to be a bad guy meeting him in a dark alley, but I’d definitely let him pat me down.”
Ava snorted.
“He’s a former sniper,” Wren said.
“Oh really?” Blair asked in surprise.
“They’re all former military,” Wren explained. “They served together in the Army.”
“And now they work for Shadow Security,” Blair mused. “Maybe I should hire one of them as my bodyguard. Nick can thoroughly examine this body before he guards it,” she joked, running her hands down the front of her dress.
The women burst into laughter, trying not to laugh harder as the guys looked over. “I hope you’re talking about me,” Nick called out, waggling his eyebrows.
“You know it,” Blair said, blowing him a kiss.
“Sheesh, get a room already,” Ava joked. “It was nice of Nick to come tonight. Luke was no surprise since he and Wren are currently inseparable, and as for Sam, he seems to appear wherever I am.”
“I’d do him,” Blair said, causing Ava to choke on her sip of champagne. “Oh please. I’m just kidding. He clearly only has eyes for you, Ava.”
“You’re as bad as Wren trying to get us together,” Ava said.
Blair lifted a shoulder. “We all remember the stories about the guy you met in Paris. Then you randomly see him in Mexico a year later? It’s fate.”
“It’s bad luck,” Ava countered. “And this night is supposed to be about celebrating, so let’s discuss something else.”
“To a successful, incredible, and amazing night!” Blair said right on cue, raising her glass in the air.
“Exactly. I’ll drink to that,” Ava said. The women clinked glasses, finishing the rest of their champagne. Ava’s gaze flicked around the room. She was surprised to see Sam tying off a trash bag. He and Luke hauled two out the door to dump them down the garbage shoot as Nick grabbed the last of the dishes, stacking them on the kitchen counter.
Fifteen minutes later, they were saying their last goodbyes. Several other friends had just left, and Wren and Luke called out goodnight and hustled down the stairs as well, leaving Ava alone with Sam. How convenient.
She hugged Blair goodbye, thanking her again, and didn’t miss the kissy-kissy faces her friend was making behind Sam’s back. Ava rolled her eyes, grabbing her purse before walking down the hall in her heels, heading to the stairwell.
“No need to wait for me, princess,” he joked, following behind her.
“My thoughts exactly,” she muttered under her breath. She slowed down anyway though, reluctantly admitting to herself that walking with Sam was safer than walking alone down the stairs at this hour of the night.
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked a minute later, flashing her a look as she gingerly paused on the bottom flight of stairs.
“These shoes are what’s wrong,” Ava said. “They’re like a form of torture.”
His gaze landed on her stiletto-clad feet before meeting her eyes once more. Sam moved toward her before she knew what was happening and easily lifted her into his arms. Ava shrieked and clung to him in surprise, looking down the remaining steps. “What are you doing?” she asked.
He leveled her with a look. “Carrying you downstairs. What does it look like?”
“Sam. Put me down,” she protested as he easily walked downstairs with Ava securely held in his arms.
“Not a chance, princess. You’ve been cringing in pain the entire way down. I’m not going to stand here and watch while you suffer.”
“You weren’t standing there. You were walking down the stairs just like me.”
“Touche,” he joked.
“I can walk,” she said.
“Of course, you can,” he replied calmly. “But this way will be faster and less painful for you.” He glanced down at her shoes briefly, his eyes darkening. “I dig the sexy stilettos though.”
Her jaw dropped, and then Sam pushed open the doors and carried her out onto the sidewalk, looking pleased with himself. “This is all Wren and Luke’s fault for rushing out of here,” she said.
“They were pretty obvious about it, weren’t they?” he mused, gently setting her down on her feet. Ava’s hands landed on Sam’s forearms, and she found herself staring up into his green eyes as she got her balance. His clean, musky scent surrounded her, and she blinked, finally letting go of him, the moment over. “I’m in a garage down the street,” he said. “Parking in Manhattan sucks, but luckily, I found a spot. They’ll probably charge me a small fortune, but it was worth it to see your show.”
“Sam,” she said, hating the way he was looking at her right now. It made her feel all sorts of things she didn’t want—not with him, not anymore. She’d dove right into the flames burning between them, and boy, had she gotten burned.
“I’ll give you a ride to your place,” he said, nodding at a couple walking past them. It was truly the city that never slept, because despite the late hour, there were still cars driving by, restaurants and bars open, and people on the streets.
“I’ll catch a cab,” she said, taking a step away from him.
“It’s the middle of the night,” Sam said, frowning. “It’s safer if I drive you. I can drop you off before I head home.”
“How do you think I usually get around?” Ava asked, growing flustered. “I don’t have you chauffeuring me every night. I live alone here in the city, and I’ll be on my own all summer anyway in Egypt.”
“Promise me you’ll be careful in Cairo,” he suddenly said, his voice gruff. An unreadable expression crossed his face—concern, perhaps, tinged with something else. Maybe he did care about her in some ways. Sam was a protector, the type of man who rushed headfirst into danger. That didn’t mean she was anything special to him though.
“I’ll be fine, Sam. Your chance to worry about me was a year ago. I texted as I backpacked around Europe, and you blew me off. Now you don’t get any say in the matter.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, staring at her. His green eyes filled with something akin to affection. Fondness. Even when she was arguing with him, he seemed to enjoy it. His gaze licked over her once more, taking in her clingy dress and strappy sandals. She felt the heat of his look like a caress. Ava crossed her arms, trying to shield herself, to hold all her feelings inside.
“You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t worry about, princess,” Sam said, his voice husky.
“I wouldn’t waste your time worrying about me,” Ava said.
“I would,” Sam replied, his gaze scorching.
Ava bit her lip, her chest filling with an emotion she couldn’t explain. He’d drop her off like he’d said—not expect anything, just see that she got safely inside her building. She also knew he wouldn’t turn her down if she invited him up to her place.
Ava raised her hand as a cab drove by, and it pulled over a few feet ahead of them. “It might’ve just been one night,” Ava said, looking at him pleadingly, “but you broke my heart. I let you kiss me and touch me—make love to me. You didn’t even have the decency to reply to a damn text. It’s better if you just forget about me, because I learned long ago that I was better off without you.”
A shocked look crossed his face before Sam schooled his expression. Ava turned and walked away, her hips swaying in her tight dress, her hair swishing behind her as she held her head high. She felt Sam’s eyes on her as she pulled open the door to the cab, but she got in without a backward glance, like she hadn’t just dropped a bombshell that made her own chest ache.
