Untrue Colors (Entangled Select Suspense)

Henry draped his long trench coat over her, shrouding the red gown in black. He then arranged her wrap over her shoulders and her hair, making her into a mere shadow of the vibrant blonde in the red gown. “Shhh. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”

 

 

He held her so tightly she couldn’t increase her speed to anything faster than a stroll. The side door was the closest exit. Henry maneuvered her through the door and into the field-turned-parking lot, where millions of dollars’ worth of automobiles stood in soggy grass and mud.

 

“Who is he?” he asked, his mouth touching her ear as though propositioning her for a night of sensual activities.

 

“I can’t tell you.”

 

His arm never left her waist, a guide, a protector. The easy manner with which he escorted her between cars tempered her urge to run as fast as she could away from Luc’s malevolent employees.

 

“Where’s Simon?” She relaxed a fraction of a shiver at the sight of Simon’s Range Rover.

 

“He’s meeting with a colleague. He’ll find his own way back to the hotel.”

 

Instead of opening the door, he spun her so her back leaned against the SUV, and then he kissed her. Deep, wet, hungry, and soul crushing. What the hell was he doing?

 

They needed to leave as quickly as possible. She tried to lift her head, but he murmured through volcanic kisses to relax. Relax? Her muscles didn’t loosen a bit. She’d relax when they left Scotland and Luc’s men behind. Hundreds of miles behind. Henry’s hands brushed through her hair, and his mouth remained over hers, refusing to let anything separate them. It almost seemed as though he was swallowing her entire being, covering her physically and emotionally so his body and his infectious cool dominated the scene.

 

Footsteps passed behind them, and his intentions became clear. He was shielding her from everyone’s view. If anyone walked by, they would see a couple unrushed and intimate. Since Alex had never made her sex life a public spectacle, no one would assume she’d be making out with a man in the parking lot. They’d be correct in believing she wanted to jump in her car and race away, tires skidding and dirt flying. That wouldn’t happen with Henry around. Everything slowed around them, and she began to trust his instincts. She kissed him back. The beating of her heart still stammered with intensity, but this new intensity had more to do with Henry than Brian.

 

She could hear people leaving the exhibition and driving away. He continued to assault her lips with kisses that at any other moment would melt all her defenses. Her body sagged forward into Henry’s strong arms. She left her hands by her sides, and allowed him to engulf her presence until she disappeared into him and became a person no one would notice except the man overwhelming her.

 

After what felt like an hour or two of this sustained concealment, his lips stopped moving, but he remained touching her, his breath coming in and out in heavy waves.

 

“Shhh. Stay quiet for another moment.” He rested his forehead against the top of her head. His body stilled until his breathing became normal. Almost undetectable. “Ready to go?’

 

She couldn’t speak, so she just nodded her head and then slid into the SUV.

 

 

 

Henry and Alex didn’t speak on the way to the hotel. What could she say to him? Thanks for hiding me from Brian and, by the way, your kisses have me wanting you in every possible way. Instead, she rested her hand on his thigh. He glanced over at her, but wasn’t smiling. There was nothing amorous in his expression at all.

 

Terrific. Not only had Brian recognized her, and a stolen Picasso was sitting in the back of their Range Rover, but the man she now craved beyond rational logic stared ahead at the road, not speaking to her. She’d escaped a relationship with Luc to avoid being involved with stolen art, and here she was wanting a relationship with the handsome buyer of a missing masterpiece.

 

When Henry threw the keys to the hotel valet and escorted her inside, he remained a respectful distance in case they had an audience. Still covered up by his coat and her scarf, she plastered her face with bored resignation and avoided any contact with him as well.

 

As soon as the door to the suite closed, Henry grasped her by the shoulders and his boredom switched to anger. “Who was following you?”

 

She struggled out of his grasp. “It was most likely a misunderstanding. A man who thought I was someone else.”

 

“Bullshit. Something happened to change you from a relaxed, sophisticated woman to a person whose hands could not stop shaking in the car.”

 

“I’ve been poked, groped, manhandled, propositioned, and leered at tonight. I’m sorry I’m not more enthusiastic about being treated with less respect than an Italian sports car.” She allowed the coat and scarf to drift to the floor, leaving her vulnerable in an evening gown that left no doubt she wore nothing underneath. Henry’s glances earlier in the evening made her feel wanted; now he seemed immune to her appearance.

 

“Tell me what happened.” Henry remained face-to-face with her. He didn’t seem to be buying her explanation.

 

If she told him the truth, he’d try to locate Luc and end up like Matt. She wouldn’t risk his safety. “I can’t.”

 

He clenched his fists, but backed off, as she expected he would. As a gentleman, he’d respect her wishes, but he needed to release his tension, and huffing about seemed to work for him.

 

She didn’t want to argue. She wanted a warm bath and a pillow. “I’m helping you find your painting. You don’t need to know more about me.”

 

His voice deepened, and he spoke with a formidable tone. “I would never force you to reveal anything you didn’t want to, but I’m confused. You act as though you trust me, but then you keep me in the dark when something evil encroaches. You won’t tell me your name or where you’re from. Someone’s looking for you, but I don’t know whether it’s the police or the leader of a drug cartel.”

 

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