“I have to talk to him,” Naomi said.
Elijah lifted a black brow. “He’s waiting.”
CHAPTER THREE
Javan smiled at the woman talking to him. She was one of the gallery’s biggest clients, and she made no secret that she wanted Javan in her bed.
She was attractive, but his attention was on someone else that night.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elijah talking to Naomi. The ecstasy on her face when she removed her shoes immediately made him picture her in his bed as they made love.
The snap of the champagne stem caused him to turn so that he could better see Naomi and Elijah. She didn’t even try to hide her anger as she turned and started toward him.
What could she possibly be upset about? The money she made from her photos was more than she had made in the last two years combined. She should be pleased, but there was no denying something had riled her.
“Excuse me, Pamela,” Javan said to the patron and turned to Naomi as she walked up.
“You can’t have it.”
Javan waited for Pamela to get far enough away before he said, “Have what, exactly?”
“The photo.” She pointed to the largest of her work. “It’s not for sale.”
Interesting. “You signed an agreement. Everything you brought to display was for sale.”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Why?”
She swallowed, a flash of grief coming over her face. “It’s special. I thought I could sell it, but I can’t.”
There was no deception in her words. She meant each of them. Javan had a suspicion that the model was none other than Rebecca. Though the face of the model in the photo was almost impossible to determine.
“Then keep it.”
She seemed surprised, by the way her eyes widened and her lips parted. “I didn’t expect...” she trailed off, then shrugged.
“Ah. You thought I was devious and uncaring. On the contrary, Ms. Parker, I’m neither. If the photo means that much, then keep it.”
She let out a sigh and lowered her gaze to the floor. “No. You’re right. I agreed to sell the piece. I can’t change my mind now.” Her eyes lifted to his. “I had no right to get angry.”
“Tell you what. Come to my office tomorrow. If you don’t like where I hang it, then you can take it with you.”
Her eyes studied him for long, silent moments. “Why are you being so nice?”
“Just because I run such a large company doesn’t mean I can’t be civil.”
“They say you’re ruthless when going after something you want.”
Javan smiled. Oh, she had no idea. And he had just found something he wanted. “That’s a fair assessment.”
“Then you must not want my photograph very much.”
“Do you say that because I’m not mercilessly refusing to give it up?”
Her blond brows lifted in affirmation. “Yes.”
“Perhaps it’s not just your artwork I want.” Javan let his voice deepen just enough.
He saw the bumps rise on her skin and her chest heave as she tried to draw in a breath. Could she not know she was a Nephilim? How was that even possible?
Javan only needed to close the distance between them to overwhelm her senses. But he kept away. He wanted her to come to him on her own.
Was that a blush that stained her cheeks? She glanced away, but her blue eyes returned to him almost immediately.
“You intrigue me, Naomi,” he said and took a step closer. “Not many women do that.”
He walked past her, allowing his hand to brush hers as he did. Javan didn’t want to leave the gallery, but if he was going to get his quarry where he wanted her, it was his only move.
“Nice,” Elijah said as they walked out onto the sidewalk. “She’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I hope so.” Javan fought the urge to look back and see if she watched him.
~
Naomi stood in the lobby of the Drohas building wishing she hated it. From the pale gray walls to the plush rugs to the lettering of the Drohas name above the desk, she liked it all. Her gaze kept returning time and again to the outline of a wolf’s head thrown back as it howled. There was something about it that called to her. Then there was stunning artwork everywhere, from paintings, drawings, marble statues, and even large art made up of metal.
She saw one of her pieces above the white leather couches in the seating area. It was both weird and amazing to see her piece in such a place alongside well-known artists.
“Ms. Parker,” Elijah said as he walked up. “Nice to see you again.”
She tried not to fidget. “He didn’t tell me a time.”
“Not to worry. Right this way,” he said and held out his hand to a private elevator.
Naomi saw the two receptionists eyeing her with envy. It made her glad she had chosen to go with a black pencil skirt and white blouse with the black jacket instead of jeans and a tee.