Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,40
waiting for. E, you are something else. I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me anything yet. Let’s just get something airtight on him.”
***
Nothing says disaster better than a failed dinner party. Jess knew what her mother was like, but she’d opted to try this anyway. Of course, Mia hadn’t been able to see Eli as just another artist; she’d seen him as prey for her daughter. Oh, not in a malicious sense, but in a sense that she knew what men wanted, and he was prime pickings for her unmarried daughter.
Eli, for his part, had been every bit the well behaved escort, looking more businessman than artist. He was impeccably groomed in his Armani slacks and vest. He didn’t even have a hair out of place. It had irritated her when she’d seen him all buttoned up. It reminded her of the night they’d spent together. Immediately her skin grew hot and prickled at the memories of him reaching up under her dress and stroking her flesh, all the while remaining seemingly unaffected. Or so she’d thought. He might have looked in control, but she’d learned quickly enough that beneath the polished exterior was a sexual wild man waiting to get out. Underneath the pinstripes lay the wild and earthy artist. Both men were a deadly combination for her. But it was not like she could very well walk away from him.
“Sassy, are you all right? You’re looking flushed,” he asked. His voice was warm, melted chocolate to her senses and made her want to lick him all over. Dinner had been an exercise in self-control.
Quickly, she went back to the dining room and scooped up her phone from the table. She checked the messages, frowning. Nothing. Damn, she’d thought the special, up-and-coming artist pitch she’d sent to the Tenman Museum would have garnered a bite for Eli’s work.
Cursing her stilettos, she grabbed her purse in the study. Through the slightly ajar door, she heard Michael speaking to someone on the phone.
“You can imagine my surprise when I walked in to find him sitting at the dinner table. It was your job to keep an eye out for him. I don’t want to be surprised by shit like that again.”
Jessica froze. What the hell was going on? Who the hell had Michael been talking to? And how did he know Eli? Even more important, why did he have someone tracking Eli’s movements? One thing was sure, Jessica would cut off her stiletto-clad feet before she let her mother marry this asshole.
***
“So, where do you know Michael from again?”
Eli’s senses were on alert; Jessica was on a fishing mission. He started the car and easily maneuvered around a rain-filled pothole as his windshield wipers worked furiously to sluice the rain away. “I don’t. Tonight was the first time I’ve met him.”
Her silence spoke volumes. She was never quiet. Since he’d met her, she always seemed to have something to say, unless her mouth was otherwise occupied. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Given her present mood, allowing his fantasies to take over would be a bad call. “Why do you ask?”
She sucked on her bottom lip, and Eli fought a groan. She was so damn sexy without trying.
“It just seemed like he knew you.”
“Never laid eyes on him.” Eli needed information of his own on Michael Fenton. If Jessica was willing to help, then fair enough. “He was wrong about the show in San Francisco, too. I’ve never done an exhibit in the city.” As soon as Jessica was safely ensconced at her house, he’d be giving Vince a call first, then Sam. It was time they worked out a few things.
From the corner of his eye he watched as a frown marred her smooth forehead.
“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? I get the impression tonight wasn’t that fun for you.”
“What? No. It was, and thanks for doing it. I overheard something when I went to get my purse, and I’m trying to make sense of it.”
Maybe today was his lucky day. “What did you hear?”
Jessica shook her head and sent her blond hair cascading over her shoulders. “I don’t think so. You’ll think I’m being crazy.”
“Let me be the judge.”
She expelled a breath. “I heard Michael on the phone asking someone what the hell you were doing at the house, and why he hadn’t been warned you were coming. He said it was their job to keep tabs on you. Maybe I dragged you into some kind of stalker ring