Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,78

been smooth and controlled in seduction mode. This dancing was more exuberant and a little off beat, but joyful nonetheless. And the abstract he was working on was just as wild as the music. Full of bold rainbow colors.

God, she could watch him paint all day, but she'd come for a reason. Inching over to the stereo, she kept out of his peripheral vision. Hating to interrupt his flow, she pressed the power button.

Abruptly, he whirled around, irritation and surprise lining his face. As soon as he saw her pleasure infused the grim lines. “Jess. I didn't know you were coming over. You, uh, you didn’t call.” His gaze darted around.

Okay, happy Samson. This was weird. She'd expected brooding, but maybe he was just happy to see her. Hell, if he'd shown up on her doorstep after that colossal fight, she'd have flown into his arms.

“I'm sorry to interrupt. And such a magnificent piece too. I just…there are some things that need to be said. And I need to say them before I lose the nerve and chicken out. I should have figured you'd be working.”

“Uh, look, Jess, maybe we should save these words for over dinner or something. Let me get cleaned up. You’re wearing white pants after all.” His gaze perused her. “White leather.”

“No, Eli.”

He flinched.

“I should have said this the other night, but I was too scared. I love you. I want to be with you. I'm just terrified. There's the women, and you’re an artist, and what if you discover I'm a fraud and not at all what you want and—” She wasn’t making any sense. Okay, she could do this. She had to make him see. She stopped right in front of him. “I love you. That's it. That’s the whole big deal. I love you. I love my Eli.”

His eyes went wide, but then he drew her close and held her. She returned the hug, so relieved. He hadn’t turned her away. He wasn’t still pissed. He whispered something in her hair, and she could have sworn he said, “That's what Eli needs to hear.”

Reaching up, she wiped a speck of red paint from his brow. “You tango with an artist, you're bound to get a Pollock on your clothes.”

“Funny. Artist humor.” His gaze was warm, but there was something missing, he didn’t look at her with the same intensity, and she could have sworn he was holding her back a little.

“Eli, what's wrong? Are you going punish me for last night? I was an idiot and terrified, and you aren’t going to hold that against me are you?”

He shook his head. “No, of course not, but I really wanted to finish this painting today, and I'm so happy right now all I want to do is take you up stairs. You just kind of caught me off guard, baby.”

Jessica wrinkled her nose. There was an edge of untruth in his tone, like the words were hollow or didn't carry the same weight. This was the same Eli who'd conned her into taking him as a client. The same one who'd teased her into accepting his apology time and again, but different somehow.

Something slithered down her back. She'd done what she came to do. She had interrupted his painting session after all—the man had a point, and him working was good for both of them. They could discuss logistics later. “Uh, right, of course, I wasn't thinking. I woke up, knew I'd almost lost you, and ran right over. I didn’t think properly. I should have figured you'd be working.”

“It's okay. I'm always happy to see you. Give me an hour. I'll meet you at Sabella's. We'll celebrate properly after I’ve had a shower.”

Her heart sank. “Yeah, okay.” Except that wasn't okay. In the fucking movies, it was always so romantic. A person realized they were an idiot and made a grand gesture, then the other swept them up and they kissed and presumably made love like bunnies, or like the way Eli had made love to her the other day, like a caged animal who'd been let out of his pen. This Eli was so contained, so aloof. Eli was restrained about everything but her.

“I’ll see you at Sabella's.”

“And Babes?”

There it was again. Eli didn’t call her Babes. She ground her teeth. No, Izzy would tell her she was looking for a reason to self-sabotage again. She got what she wanted. Her gallery was saved, she had the hottest client, and she had