A Killer's Agenda (35 page)

She stopped, smiling up at him. “Oh is that right? So now you have ESP as well?”

“Don’t need it.” He grinned as they walked up the sidewalk.

-309-

Anita Whiting

It was then Alex realized where they were. “Brad, this is an art gallery.” She glanced at the price tag of the portrait in the window.

“A very expensive art gallery.”

He nodded, stopping at the massively elegant front door. “It is at that.”

She gave him an impatient look. “So why in the world are we

stopping here? I don’t want to shop for art right now. Besides…”

“Remember that wedding gift I never gave you?” he asked,

enjoying teasing her, enjoying the slight frown racing across her forehead and the flash of her green eyes.

Her gaze shifted back to his. “No.”

“Well I do. This is it.”

Frustration flickered across her face. “
What
is it?”

“This,” he said, opening the door and ushering her inside.

It took a moment for her to adjust to the dimmer light. When she did, her eyes widened in surprise. The large center room was filled with elegantly dressed people, people that looked oddly familiar. They were moving among the various art pieces that were beautifully displayed while muted classical music played in the background. In the middle of the room was a graceful fountain surrounded by tables filled with canapés and bottles of wine and champagne.

She shook her head. “Brad, I don’t understand.”

“Take a moment to study the artwork and you will,” he said,

tucking her arm in his and leading her toward the far wall.

As she moved closer to the nearest picture, her heart stilled.

She knew that scene. Intimately. The castle, the lightening, the waves crashing. Spinning, she strode to another, again recognizing

-310-

A Killer's Agenda

the artwork, then another and another. This was her work, her art.

All of them!

“Those pictures look mighty fine up there don’t they, lass?” a voice said behind her.

She turned in confusion, shocked to see her father standing in front of her. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

Patrick Leahy gathered her in his arms, glancing over her

shoulder at Brad. “Taking care of my daughter are you, young man?”

“I am, sir.”

“Well that’s a good thing then. I’ve missed you, child,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

“I’ve missed you as well, Dad, but what…?”

“Patrick, there are other people who want to see the two of

them, you know,” Eileen Leahy said, slipping a slim arm around her daughter’s waist and pulling her close, her other hand

squeezing Brad’s. “Welcome home, you two.”

“Mom!” Alex said, hugging her and then focusing narrowed

eyes on Brad. “Okay, what’s going on here?”

“May I have everyone’s attention, please?”

They turned and Alex’s eyes widened once again as she

recognized the speaker standing on the slightly raised dais in front of the room.

“We have only a few more minutes until the exhibit is open to the public,” Andrew Norton announced, smiling at the couple in front of him. “First of all, I’d like to say on behalf of everyone here, welcome home, Brad and Alex. We’ve missed you.”

“What exhibit?” Alex asked, amid the applause, getting the

distinct feeling she knew.

-311-

Anita Whiting

“The exhibit Mom and I arranged after you left for your

honeymoon,” Alicia said saucily, moving forward to give both of them a hug, looking dramatic as usual in a bright red off the shoulder dress. “Did you know you married a very sneaky man?

Hunky and very, very sneaky.”

“Are you telling me that you are having an exhibit of my art here? Now?”

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,”

That familiar insecurity reared its ugly head as she let her gaze roam around the room. “I can’t believe you did this. I just paint for fun, for myself. No one else is going to want to buy this stuff.”

“Want to make a bet?” Alan challenged, both hands full of food as he leaned down to kiss his sister. “Hey what do you know, you’ve actually got a tan. Amazing. Thought for sure you’d come back looking like a lobster. Irish skin and all, you know,” he said, winking at Brad. He piled one sandwich on top of the other to free a hand to shake Brad’s. “Anyway, Uncle Brian and Aunt Kathy just bought that picture over there of the little kids playing in the sand and Rosa and Miguel picked out two of your flower pictures for the baby’s nursery.”

“That’s because they’re friends and family.”

“Not all of them,” Brad said, motioning to an older woman who was standing in the back of the room.

Alex followed his gaze. It appeared, whoever she was, the

woman was engrossed in the painting in front of her. Curious, Alex walked toward her recognizing the scene as she drew closer. It was one of her favorites.

The lighting emphasized the peeling red paint on the half

caved-in barn as it stood in the middle of an abandoned field alive

-312-

A Killer's Agenda

with wildflowers. There was an old tractor in front of its open doors, the green color still visible on its rusted body and part of a wagon wheel leaning to one side. Weeds and ivy crawled through the cracks in the wall adding their own natural covering. In the midst of the aged and old stood a toddler, her blond curls catching the wind. Her lips were pursed mightily as she blew on the wisps of dandelion she held in her chubby hands.

The woman turned when she became aware of Alex standing

next to her. She was tall and willowy, her hair pulled back in a tight style, the dark color sprinkled with gray. She eyed Alex silently for a moment and then shook her head.

“I certainly hope you aren’t serving crow among those canapés over there,” she said briskly.

Alex straightened, suddenly putting a name to that face and

voice.

“Mrs. Maine?” she said incredulously.

“In person,” the woman replied, turning back to the painting.

“You know, even when you were in my class you were never

conventional, never followed the norm. You have no idea how

much that irritated me.” She shook her head. “That barn is off center, the colors don’t blend, they simply glare at you and you’ve mixed two completely different themes.”

Alex suddenly felt as if she were thirteen once again. “I’m sorry you don’t like it,” she said stiffly.

The brow went up again. “Did I say that, young lady? I think it is brilliant. Bold, powerful and it pulls at the heartstrings. I’ve already purchased it.” A smile softened those stern lips. “I should have known after that artistic temper tantrum all those years ago that you had it in you. Although it doesn’t sit well with me, Mrs.

-313-

Anita Whiting

Norton, I am going to apologize. Not for demanding obedience in my class because any teacher must have that but for not

recognizing what your husband obviously has, a truly unique

talent.”

“Thank you,” Alex said, tears pricking her eyelids. “Believe it or not you don’t know how much that means to me.”

Brad appeared at her side. “Oh, I think she does, don’t you, Mrs. Maine?”

“I’m beginning to.” She shook her finger at him. “I have a

suspicion I’m here to prove a point, young man. However, be that as it may,” she said, humor glinting in her eyes, “it was worth it just to see this young lady’s expression.”

Alex laughed, shooting a loaded look at Brad. “Since we’re

being honest, I have to admit I would never have continued

painting if it hadn’t been for you. You made me mad enough,

ticked off enough that I painted just to show everyone I could.

Although, I still can’t believe my husband thinks my work is good enough for an exhibit.”

The older woman glanced at the door as people began

streaming in. “Well you’ll soon find out, won’t you,” she said dryly, waving her hand toward them. “Good luck.”

Impulsively, Alex reached forward and hugged her. “Thank you for being here.”

“Don’t thank me, my dear, thank your husband,” she retorted.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to collect this and perhaps buy another if,”

she paused, her lips twitching as she glanced at the crowd, “there are any left.”

* * *

A Killer's Agenda

It was only much, much later that Alex was able to corner Brad in the shower. The evening had been filled with so many emotions that she felt totally drained. People, strangers, actually had competed against each other for her paintings. She had been

overwhelmed by their compliments and secretly beyond thrilled.

Yet, a small part of her still couldn’t forgive Brad and her family for arranging this whole thing without consulting her.

The big old fashioned bathroom with its black-and-white tiled floor and ornate mirror and windows was pleasantly warm and she couldn’t resist inhaling her husband’s familiar cologne. She sighed, stretching. It was so good to be home. Back in her now completed space. Her expression tightened. They had discussed their living arrangements together and had agreed her home seemed the best choice for setting up house. Just like they should have discussed exhibiting her paintings, she thought, her always volatile temper beginning to build.

Steam filtered into the space as she opened the shower door.

He didn’t hear her immediately and she felt herself weakening as she gazed at that incredible physique. She knew every curve, every muscle intimately. It took all her will power not to simply shed her clothes and join him.

Brad felt the cooler air and turned. “Joining me?” he asked.

When she didn’t move, he shrugged. “No?” He adjusted the spray.

“Okay, let me have it. You ticked or thrilled?”

She shook her finger at him. “Just where do you get off, Brad Norton, planning something like that without consulting me?

Didn’t anything about those marriage vows sink in that skull of yours?”

-315-

Anita Whiting

He grinned unashamedly. “Which part?”

“You know what part. The honor my wishes part.”

She didn’t have time to move before he reached forward and

pulled her, clothes and all, into the shower. Warm water cascaded down her back, soaking her white silk dress in seconds, molding it to her body.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” She sputtered, wiping water out of her eyes as she glared up at him.

“Honoring your wishes.”

“What?”

“Sure. Don’t you remember saying I was too predictable? Too

afraid to let myself go? Well, you looked like you needed to relax and I can’t think of anything more relaxing than a nice hot

shower.”

“Fully clothed?”

He let his gaze roam over her now-transparent dress. “You’re right, but I can change that,” he murmured, easing the material from her shoulders while leaning forward to cover her skin with his lips.

“Brad, I am absolutely not going to…” She began then stopped, her breath hitching as his mouth roamed across her exposed

breast sending shivers of need up and down her spine. Just when she thought she could resist, could still stay angry, her fingers found the small scar on his forehead. It was a stark reminder of what could have been or what might never have been. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to make love to her husband. To the man she had almost lost.

It didn’t matter that the spray of water was cooling or that steam was filling the room. Their lovemaking was slow and erotic,

-316-

A Killer's Agenda

lips and hands touching and being touched. When they came

together, it was sweet torture and then explosively powerful.

Alex opened sultry eyes as Brad turned off the water and

nudged her onto the tile floor, grabbing a huge bath towel to wrap around her.

“Seems to me this shower thing is becoming a habit,” she said huskily, grabbing another towel to dry her hair. “Very clever.”

“What?” he asked innocently.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Those dark eyes she found so incredibly sexy found hers and

their expression changed, grew serious. He toweled himself quickly and then took her hand and led her to the bed throwing the sheets back to pull her down beside him. He covered them both leaning up on one elbow to look at her.

“Alex, you’ve given me back my life and my family. I owe you in more ways than I can count.” He put a finger on her lips when she started to respond. “Just listen. Dad and I have a relationship now we would never have had if it hadn’t been for you pushing both of us past the resentment we’d built. It’s for damn sure Maggie wouldn’t be wearing that diamond ring on her finger if you hadn’t set Dad straight about what was really important.”

She smiled through a mist of tears, recognizing the sincerity in his voice. “I just shoved the two of you toward what you would have eventually resolved yourself.”

He shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that.” He leaned

down to kiss one bare shoulder. “I was only half a person before I met you. Successful, independent and wealthy but empty inside.”

He settled back and drew her closer. “You filled that emptiness.”

-317-

Anita Whiting

Touched, she ran a finger along his lean cheek. “So you

arranged tonight to thank me?”

He nodded. “It was the one part of you that didn’t exude

confidence. The artist in you created beautiful things but the reprimanded child in you wouldn’t allow others to hurt you again. I wanted to release that child’s fears.” His dark eyes met hers. “Was I successful?”

It took a moment for her to find her voice. “Damn you, Brad

Norton! I was all set to lay into you for all of this and then you pull the wind right out of my sails. Why is it you always find the right words before I can work up a really satisfying tantrum?”

He laughed. “Natural talent and fear of that Irish temper I

think, my love.”