Fantasy Man Page 10
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He woke early enough to greet the rising sun. Bleary-eyed and exhausted, he slipped from the bed and dressed quietly and efficiently. He hated to leave the comfort of the bed, but there was no ignoring his task. He had to conduct just one more search. It was Sunday. By noon that day they had to leave the estate. With that any chance of finding his family's armor would cease to exist.
Just before slipping out of the room, he glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping form of the woman in his bed. Our bed, he corrected before stepping from the room. He closed the door lightly behind him and quickly made his way down the hall. With the layout of the estate on his mind, he strode to his target region. He made it to the room in what felt like record time. A quick glance down the hall confirmed the fact that he was alone. He slipped into the room and closed the door silently behind him.
"What exactly are you looking for?"
Ansley froze just inside the doorway. The room was a small museum of sorts, displaying many of the antique pieces that the Bainsworths had collected over time. It was the last of over a dozen on his list to check. By the western wall, directly across from the door, sat a lone man. Ansley had seen enough pictures of him to know it was Jacob Bainsworth, the current heir to the Bainsworth estate.
Although Sophia told him she met Bainsworth, Ansley hadn't considered he would run into the man. His information had told him that Bainsworth was taking care of a dear friend who was dying of cancer. He was doing all that he could to make the woman's last few weeks comfortable. Jacob simply refused to alter the biennial event's date as he was unwilling to deny his guests the pleasures to be found at his weekend-long party.
"If you tell me what you're looking for, I can probably help you find it."
He considered the question and Jacob for a moment. He seemed genuinely curious. There was no animosity, anger, or fear on the other man's face. If he was guilty of something it wasn't showing.
"I'm looking for a full body of eleventh-century armor."
"I'll admit we do have a full body of armor, but it's not eleventh century. Can you describe it to me?"
Ansley ran down a quick but detailed description of the piece. After the first few words, he knew that Jacob had seen his family's armor. The other man's eyes widened with surprise and shined with memory.
"I'll admit that I've seen that piece before, almost bought it."
"But?"
He smiled. “I didn't."
Ansley started to feel incredibly frustrated. “Is there a reason why you didn't purchase it? I'm guessing price wasn't an issue."
Jacob's smile widened. “No, price wasn't the problem. The provenance appeared a little too perfect. Pieces that old usually have one or two previous owners missing or unknown. The record listed every person who'd ever owned it."
"Damn.” He could have his contacts check out Jacob's story, but his gut was telling him the man was speaking the truth. His intuition was rarely wrong. Which meant he was out of luck. He wasn't going to find his piece here.
"Do you have any information on the seller?"
Jacob rolled to his feet in one fluid movement. “I'll tell you everything I know.” He walked across the room. “I have a question for you. Mrs. Wilde, is she really—"
"Mine? Yes,” Ansley said, interrupting the question he knew was coming. The look of interest on the other man's face as he said Mrs. Wilde warned Ansley of what was coming. Somehow, Sophia had caught Jacob's interest.
Too bad. Sophia was his woman. And he had no intention of ever letting her go.
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Chapter Eleven
If Your Girl Only Knew
Mondays were never joyous days, as they were an end to her weekends, but the cloud of despair that cloaked her was like nothing she'd experienced before. She grabbed her coffee mug and took a calming sip, trying to contain the restless, angry emotions within her. As she placed her cup back on her desk, her gaze landed on her computer's digital clock. At the moment, Ansley was probably boarding his flight to New York.
Their weekend was over. To him it was probably nothing more than an erotic interlude. It was her everything.
"Darn it!” she muttered under her breath as she pushed her chair back and stood from her desk. She could not focus on her files. Not with thoughts of the weekend and Ansley's departure heavy on her mind. She strode from her office to walk around the gallery. The sharp sound of her high heels clicking against the stone floor followed her as she moved around. It was a reminder of just how much she'd changed during their short weekend.
Before she wouldn't have considered wearing such high heels to work, especially the pair she was currently wearing. There was something distinctly sexual about them. Her typical work wear was comfortable and nondescript. But today she wore a rich chocolate-colored suit that was cut to emphasize her voluptuous figure and plum heels with mahogany details. Both the suit and shoes had been sitting in her closet for over six months, just waiting to be worn. Today she'd woken and they'd called out to her. Instead of ignoring them as she usually did, she pulled them out and found the perfect accessories to match.
The sound of nearing footsteps drifted to her ears, letting Sophia know she was no longer alone. She glanced over her shoulder to see her mother standing several feet away from her. Sarah was looking over a clay, sand, and plastic multimedia piece that reminded Sophia of a thunderstorm at sea. Depicted in various shades of blue, it was both dark and lovely.
"I can't believe I missed this the last time I was here."
Sophia smiled. She knew that tone. Sarah was considering purchasing the piece. She didn't blame her. Sophia had considered buying it outright, but it wasn't quite her. The piece would fit right in with her mother's previous purchases. “The artist is Donna Glenn,” she said as she walked over to her mom. “She's very talented. I have two more pieces by her that you might be interested in."
Sarah turned and looked her over, her sharp gaze taking in every inch of her. She inclined her head forward, and with a soft smile on her face, she murmured, “Show me. I feel the need to add something new to Quinton's study."
One after another, Sophia showed her mother Glenn's remaining pieces. In companionable silence they looked over the artwork. But beneath the silence was the edge of expectation. Sophia was waiting for her mother to ask her about Ansley. Finally, Sarah turned to her. “So are you going to make it to this Friday's dinner?"
Sophia couldn't help the amusement-tinted smile that filled her face. Friday night dinners with her outrageous extended family were something relatively new. They had been going on for less than two years. In the beginning, they were sporadic. Only recently had they become a regular event.
"Yes, I'll be there."
"Speaking of Friday dinners, how did things go this weekend with Mr. Westwick?"
"It ... uh...” Before she could answer, the dull ring of another's footsteps rang through the air. She turned and froze, staring into emerald eyes.
"Sophia, can I talk to you for a moment?"
Desperate not to appear as shocked as she felt, she lowered her gaze and nodded her head in agreement. She glanced at her mother. “I'll see you later, okay?"
"Of course,” Sarah said with a very large smile. Her gaze slid to Ansley before turning to her. Sophia felt something very close to fear slice through her at the act. “Don't forget that we're having dinner tonight, and remember there is always room for more."
Kill me now! Sophia swallowed the retort on her tongue. She wanted to ask her mother when they'd started having family dinners on Monday, but knew it was best to leave it alone.
She glanced at Ansley. Amusement softened his harsh features. He was silently laughing at her. Sophia somehow managed not to reach out and strangle her mother as the woman walked away from them as though she hadn't just embarrassed the hell out of her only child.
"Uh, you wanted to talk?” Sophia asked once her mother was gone.
"Yes, can we speak in your offi
ce?"
"Of course."
She waited until the door to her office was closed before speaking. “Is everything all right? Did something happen?"
He gave her a small smile. “Wondering why I'm not on my flight? Didn't mean to scare you. I just had to finish up a thing or two, so I moved my flight."
"Oh."
He lifted his hand to reveal the dress bag he held. Sophia smiled at the sight. She knew very well what was in the bag, her costume for the Bainsworth weekend. “Why are you returning it?"
"Because it's yours; always has been, always will be."
She blushed at his comment. Unable to hold his unwavering gaze, she lowered her eyes and reached out to accept the costume. “Thank you.” She walked past him and placed the bag onto the coatrack at the back of her door. Needing something to do, she slid the zipper south and looked over the dress. “So is everything all right?"
"I didn't exactly come here and get what I wanted."
She felt his disappointment at the situation keenly. He'd come cross-country for no reason. Sophia fingered the tulle skirt that gave the maid costume's skirt its shape as she considered the man before her. “True. You might not have the armor, but you have a good idea of where it is."
"Yes, I should be satisfied with that. It's more than I had when I came to California.” His gaze roamed over her office before landing on her. “Last weekend was a wild-goose chase of sorts. I just couldn't ignore the opportunity to get back my family's armor, even if the chance was slim.” He strode deeper into the room with every word, until he was standing in front of her desk. Her office had never felt so small before. She couldn't help glancing at his feet and wondering how many steps it would take him to reach her.
And if he would take them.
"I understand that feeling.” She couldn't count the number of times she'd been driven to a piece, despite the low probability of her actually acquiring it for her gallery. And those were pieces that didn't have any emotional importance.
His jade eyes flickered to hers. “Yes, you would understand. We have so much in common, don't we?"
"Yes."
"Turns out I was looking for something more than the armor."
Her fingers crumpled the tulle. When she realized what she was doing, she removed her hand from the dress and clasped her hands together. Her nerves were ragged enough. She didn't need to add a ruined costume to the list of things to worry about. “Really?” she asked, desperately trying to keep her voice strong and neutral. Sophia didn't want him to hear the sadness she felt. He stood before her, but she was already mourning his departure. He would leave soon and become a voice on the phone again. A voice she fell for at the first sound, the man she'd fallen for in one weekend.
"I was looking for something emotionally satisfying on this trip."
She gave him her best impression of an honest smile. “Yes, the whole weekend was quite exciting."
"It wasn't just excitement I was after, Sophia."
"No?"
"No, I was looking for love.” He paused and took several steps into the room, closer to her. “And I found it. With you."
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Epilogue
Anything But Ordinary
The weather was picturesque. The northern California air was just warm enough for Sophia to get away with wearing a simple, summer sheath and linen jacket to work. She stepped into the gallery, two grande drinks in her hand. She took a sip from her macchiato as she looked around the gallery. The gallery's latest piece sat beside a naked wall. Three men stood before it. All were tall and hard-bodied, perfect specimens of the male sex. She only had eyes for one.
Sophia strode over to the trio and held out the black coffee.
Ansley flashed her a smile as he accepted the large paper cup. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured before taking a sip. The sunlight glinted on the platinum ring on his left fourth finger. Her husband had come in early to help with the setup of the gallery's newest acquisition.
Her husband. She and Ansley had been married for almost a year now. Their one-year anniversary was in less than one week. They were going to spend a romantic weekend at the place they'd come together, the Bainsworth estate. Jacob Bainsworth was giving them free range over a suite. He was providing them with a private butler and chef for the weekend as their anniversary gift. She couldn't wait for the weekend to arrive.
"That's perfect,” Ansley told the two men.
She glanced up at the multimedia piece. It looked beautiful. She expected it to sell very quickly. The artist was becoming more and more widely acclaimed with each passing day.
"Thanks, guys.” Ansley turned from the two departing men and tilted his head, silently asking Sophia to follow him. They walked into her office. He closed the door softly behind her. “I've got some good news and some bad news."
"Give me the bad news first."
"We've got to take a trip to retrieve an item before we leave for our weekend."
"Today is Tuesday."
"Don't worry, I've already booked the tickets."
She glared at him, thinking about the many tasks she had to accomplish. There was so much she needed to do, and if they both left, who would cover the gallery? As if he heard her thoughts, Ansley continued, “Jennifer is more than capable of handling the gallery for two days."
He flashed her a wide smile. “The piece in question is my family's armor."
Her eyes widened in shock. “You found it?” She gasped as she walked forward to stand beside him.
"Not only that, I've already purchased it."
"So where are we going?"
"Vegas. I was thinking we could extend our anniversary celebration and go to at least one show."
"That's just one of the things I love about you."
"What's that?"
"There's never a dull moment with you. Somehow without me asking, you make all my fantasies come true."
THE END
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Tuesday Morrigan
Tuesday Morrigan began her love affair with romance at an early age. As a child she was always infatuated with the romance novels she snuck from her mother. Later, in high school, the public library became her sanctuary with an endless array of romance novels. Tuesday is still an avid reader of books. Thanks to shows like Buffy, Angel, and her latest infatuation, Supernatural, Tuesday prefers her stories to have a little more grit. Her favorite genres have always been fantasy, mystery, romance, and erotica, so as a writer, she tries to blend the genres to create her own personal niche.
You can learn more about Tuesday, including what's her latest project, at www.tuesdaymorrigan.com and you can reach her at tuesdaymorrigan@gmail.com.
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