42
Savannah
I slowly circled the edge of the garden, subtly calling my magic, while watching the painter in the green smock. Though I’d concealed cars and people with clouds of shadow, and even made myself a shadow dress once, my plan would take fine control like I’d never used before.
I made a couple wisps of shadows slink across the painting and disappear.
The artist paused and looked around. As soon as he returned to painting, I did it again.
He stopped and rubbed his eyes.
After another few seconds, I did it a third time, letting the shadows crawl over him. I left a wisp clinging over his left eye like a veil, partially obscuring his vision.
With a yelp, he stood and began looking around wildly. The poor bastard probably thought he was going blind, but considering what an asshole he’d been, the trick didn’t bother me.
He rubbed his eyes again, then headed to the bathroom in a panic.
As soon as he was gone, I rushed over, pulled his painting off the easel, and put up a new canvas.
Instantly, I could feel Alejandro’s gaze boring into my back like an auger.
Showtime.
Before I could pick up my brush, a firm hand locked onto my arm, and the smoky scent of pine and earth and heat bombarded me, followed by a familiar growl that pebbled my skin. I stilled and met Jaxson’s penetrating gaze.
“What the hell are you doing?” Anger rippled through his shoulders, and though his voice was calm and measured, it was laced with an underlying warning.
I pulled my arm free and tilted my chin up to him. “Getting a meeting with the vampire.”
“What?” Jaxson grunted, his eyes challenging me. “This wasn’t part of the plan.”
“The bid on the brooch isn’t working. Alejandro isn’t biting. While you were busy making eyes at that woman in the garden, I decided to improvise.”
Jaxson’s nostrils flared, and his eyes momentarily dropped to my mouth. “Making eyes? What the fuck do you mean by that? I was working my connections.”
“You were working something,” I snapped.
As soon as the words left my mouth, I blushed, feeling like a jealous teenager throwing baseless accusations at the hot guy she had a crush on.
I could feel the outrage emanating off him—an intoxicating cocktail of jealousy and frustration and desire. What the hell was it that made me want to push his buttons, even at a time like this?
You want him.
Screw that.
I brushed my hair out of my eyes. “Look, Jaxson, that was off base, and I’m sorry. But I think this can get his attention.”
“Hijacking an easel? That’s going to get his attention for sure and get us kicked out.”
I met his furious gaze with pleading eyes. “I have a feeling about this. Just trust me. Can you do that?”
He worked his jaw in frustration, then looked around. “All right. But if this goes south, we’re out of here.”
I nodded, dabbed my brush in the paint, and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to calm my mind. It didn’t work. Jaxson was looming over me, his signature practically shouting at me with desire and frustration. A flurry of heat rose between my thighs, and I had to grit my teeth against the shiver that purred through me.
I opened my eyes and gestured with the brush. “You’re distracting. Stand back and make sure no one tries to haul me out of here—particularly a guy in a green smock.”
Jaxson glared and stepped away, and I turned back to the terrifyingly blank canvas.
What the hell was I going to do?
I had to create a painting that would demand Alejandro’s attention, and fast. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clue what kind of art he liked, and if the pieces he was auctioning were any indication, then his tastes were wildly eclectic.
We only shared one thing in common.
Dragan.
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves and looked around. People were beginning to take notice.
Jaxson gave me a nod. Somehow, the simple movement spoke volumes: Do it. I trust you.
I gave him a thankful smile and turned back to the canvas.