Driving Her Crazy - By Amy Andrews Page 0,35

familiar intoxicating rush she’d always experienced just from his presence. When it didn’t come she opened them to find herself looking directly into Kent’s gaze. He was standing near the large floor-to-ceiling French doors across the other side of the room in her direct line of sight.

He winked at her and she found herself suppressing a smile as Leo held her for a little longer than she was comfortable with.

‘My goodness,’ Leo said as he finally released her and held her away at arm’s length. ‘I think you’ve been living the high life. Where have all those lovely bones gone, darling?’

Kent watched Sadie’s smile falter and before he knew it he was striding towards them. The urge to punch Leonard Pinto in the face was one he was just able to suppress as he stuck out his hand and introduced himself.

‘Ah, yes, Mr Nelson,’ Leo said, grasping Kent’s hand. ‘Kevin mentioned that you were the photographer. It is indeed a great pleasure to meet you.’

Kent nodded. He supposed he should have returned the compliment, but Sadie’s smile in his peripheral vision was so brittle he thought it might actually crumble off her face and, frankly, Leonard Pinto’s handshake had been unimpressive.

Kevin handed Leo his standard gin and tonic and regaled Kent with his attempts at photography. Sadie listened to them on autopilot. She’d nibbled on an apple all day and the glass of white wine she was sipping was going straight to her head.

She tried not to let Leo’s opening comment get to her—he’d never been a particularly sensitive man—but she’d starved herself for days and knew she looked damn good. Not rake thin as she had been, but good nonetheless.

Would it have killed him to have given her a compliment?

Leo laughed at a joke he’d told and Sadie ran her eyes over him. He hadn’t changed. Maybe there was a little more grey in the wings at his temple, some more padding under his chin and around his middle, but he was the same. Tall and thin, with long arty fingers, curiously not paint stained as per usual, and bookish wire-rimmed glasses.

She waited for the rush of tangled emotions he’d always aroused and was relieved to feel nothing.

She switched her attention to Kent and his polite fixed smile. The comparison between the two men was striking. Kent was toned and broad and fit-looking compared to Leo’s obvious indoor physique. Kent’s spare, angular features were sharply contrasted with the gentle planes of Leo’s.

Sadie had never placed any stead on looks but with the two of them together it was hard not to compare. Kent looked like a Rodin sculpture—all symmetry and fluid lines. Leo looked like a kindergarten art project—something that you cherished because of an association but not something you wanted to just look at for hours.

‘The evening meal is served,’ Kevin announced interrupting Sadie’s reverie.

Kent watched Sadie nibble pathetically around the edges of her meal. It was all beautifully cooked by Kevin who seemed to be general dogsbody, but it just wasn’t his thing.

Small servings, big plates, posh names.

By the end of it Kent was still starving.

And Sadie must have been ready to eat the table leg.

More polite conversation was made about the local area and the history of the house until Kevin took away the last plate.

‘Would you like a tour of the studio now?’ Leonard asked them as he stood.

Kent looked at Sadie, a half-query in his eyes. Personally he’d rather drive to the nearest steak restaurant and order the biggest Waygu they had.

‘Sure,’ Sadie said, standing also, her head spinning a little. She was curious to see what kind of space he painted in now, in this marble mausoleum in the middle of nowhere.

Leo, ever the charming host, regaled them with stories as he led the way towards the back of the house. He opened a large double wooden door, flicking a light on in the darkened room illuminating the space inside and out.

The first thing she noticed was that the studio overlooked the man-made lake Kevin had shown them earlier. The next was how clean it was. She knew Leo, she knew him well, and when he was in the middle of a project—the studio was always a shambles.

The third thing she only noticed when Kent said, ‘Holy cow.’ She turned to look up on the wall behind her to see what had his jaw dropping.

A giant nude portrait hung there. Of her. And for a moment all three of them just stood and