Dark Perception: The Corde Noire Series (28 page)

Denise pouted at Nathan. “Tonight,
Nathan? Isn’t this what we pay lawyers for?”

Nathan displayed a ravishing smile.
“Why pay people three hundred dollars an hour to discuss something
when you and I can do it for free?”

“
Well, if you’re going to
use common sense on me, I’m afraid I will have to give in.” Denise
patted Ren’s arm. “Ren, why don’t you show Melinda your work while
Nathan and I have our chat?”

“
Happy to,
Denise.”

Denise latched on to Nathan’s arm. “We
can go to the library upstairs and talk.”

Nathan offered Melinda an encouraging
glance and then allowed Denise to escort him from the
solarium.

So much for never leaving
my side.

Alone in the room, Melinda gave the
handsome Ren Plancharde a nervous smile. “So how long have you been
an artist?”

Ren clasped his hands behind his back.
“All my life, but I didn’t get serious about it until I was in high
school.”

“
How do you know
Denise?”

“
We met when she bought one
of my paintings. At the time, I was just another hungry artist
hanging out at Jackson Square.”

Melinda was taken aback. “You worked
the Square?”

“
And you are the amazing
girl who can see the future and hangs out under the large oak tree
next to the woman with the wild pink hair. I’ve heard many of your
patrons praise your ability.” He raised his disconcerting green
eyes to the room entrance. “So what are you doing with Nathan
Cole?”

Melinda struggled to remember him from
her days at Jackson Square, but couldn’t place his face. “I, ah,
work for Nathan.”

“
Work? Really? What does
that entail?” He ambled toward one of his paintings at the edge of
the room.

She followed him, peeved by his
condescending tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“
You know what I mean,
Melinda.” He stared into the portrait of a woman tied to a bed in
the throes of pleasure. “That black cord around your neck means you
belong to him. You’re his submissive.”

She touched her collar. “You know
about this?”

“
About the Corde Noire
Society?” He snorted, sounding annoyed. “Yeah, I know.”

“
What is this society? Can
you tell me?”

He shook his head. “Nathan should tell
you that, not me. It’s not my place.”

Melinda followed him with her eyes as
he mulled over another painting of a blindfolded blonde with a gag
in her red-painted mouth. “You belong to this society, don’t
you?”

He kept his eyes on the painting.
“Would that surprise you?”

She crept closer to him. “Do you have
someone like me?”

“
No. I’m better at painting
women like you, not … playing with them.”

“
I don’t understand. How
did you go from selling paintings on Jackson Square to this?” She
waved her hand around the room of graphic artwork.

“
I started out like you … a
street performer, hocking my paintings of New Orleans icons to
tourists. Then, one day, a wealthy benefactress came along and
asked for very specific paintings about bondage to hang in her
club. A club that caters to men with such tastes.” He flourished
his hand over his painting. “And here I am. A purveyor of the
provocative.” Ren took a moment to consider her reaction. “Tell me,
what does Nathan really pay you to do?”

She turned her eyes to his painting,
suddenly feeling ashamed. “Read people for him. Like I did in the
Square.”

“
Just read?”

She leveled her green eyes on him, not
hiding her indignation. “Does Denise pay you to just
paint?”

He rubbed his eye, appearing bored.
“She doesn’t pay me. I can afford to paint without her
help.”

“
Then why are you here?
Seems to me you could do a lot better than this crowd.”

“
Better?” He threw back his
head and let go an energetic cackle. The noise bounced off the
shiny marble floor. “You’re funny. Does Nathan pay you to be funny,
too?”

Melinda ignored his comment, and
wanting to change the subject, cast her gaze to his painting. “Your
work has a real … visceral quality to it. Like you can sense the
model’s emotions.”

Ren placed his hand discreetly over
his mouth, hiding his snicker. “That’s probably because my pieces
are about bondage.”

Her cheeks blushed. “I’m sorry, I
don’t know anything about art. I was just trying to be—”

“
No, I think that’s the one
of the more honest reviews I’ve received.” He sighed as he surveyed
the other paintings in the solarium. “Denise insisted on having
this show for me. She wanted to introduce my art to her society
friends.”

She followed his eyes around the room.
“Is it helping?”

“
I’m selling paintings.
Isn’t that the goal?”

She turned to him. “Is it?”

He shifted his attention to a portrait
of a woman, hogtied, with running mascara and bright red lips. “I
always thought so, but now I’m not so sure. I think the goal for
any artist is to be able to express their ideas. Unfortunately,
food, shelter, and taxes tend to get in the way of that expression.
Sometimes, we do things we’re not that crazy about to get
by.”

“
So you’re not painting
what you really want to paint, is that it?”

“
I can’t afford to do that
… not yet, anyway.”

“
I hope one day you get the
chance to paint what you want, Ren.”

“
Thank you, Melinda.” He
bowed his head to her. “I’ll keep you posted on my
progress.”

She stroked the program in her hand,
wondering how to kill time before Nathan’s return. “Why don’t you
show me the pieces you like the most and I’ll tell Nathan to buy
them.” She held up the program. “I was put in charge of finding
artwork for his new apartment on Market Street.”

Ren took a moment and examined her
with his disturbing green eyes. “You do know that Denise is having
second thoughts about the project, right?” he finally
revealed.

“
No. Nathan said they had
some problems, but I got the impression it was nothing
major.”

Ren arched an eyebrow at her. “I hope
they can work it out. Otherwise, there’ll be no living with
him.”

Picturing an angry and discontented
Nathan, Melinda’s heart sank. What would their life together be
like if his deal fell through?

Ren noticed Melinda’s worried
countenance. “Come. I’ll give you the grand tour of my
collection.”

Melinda put on a fake smile. “Thank
you. I would love that.”

Ren showed her each of the paintings
in the solarium, describing his motivation and what he was trying
to accomplish with the work. When they had finished, he guided her
to the double parlor next door. Decorated with ornate gold-leaf
furniture, beige draperies, and an array of cream Oriental rugs,
the brilliant room briefly lifted Melinda’s spirits.

Taking her arm, Ren guided her to a
piece resting on an easel in the corner of the room. It was of a
very handsome man with black hair and attractive blue eyes in a
gray suit. He had his arms around a scantily-clad blonde with a
leering grin on his lips. Ren was in the middle of telling Melinda
the story behind his only male model, Declan Corinth, when Nathan
came up to them.

“
Having fun?” He glared at
Ren’s hand on Melinda’s arm.

Melinda was mindful of the anger in
his eyes. “Ren has been showing me his paintings. I think I’ve
found some interesting pieces to add to your
collection.”

Nathan walked up to her and placed his
arm around her waist, pushing Ren to the side.

“
Melinda has a remarkable
eye for art, Nathan,” Ren informed him.

“
She has a good eye for
many things, Ren.”

Ren chuckled, shaking his head. “I
know she’s yours, Nathan. Not to worry.”

Nathan turned to Melinda. “Why don’t
you show me the paintings you like?”

Melinda lowered her eyes. “Yes,
Nathan.”

Hurriedly, Nathan escorted Melinda
from the double parlor as Ren stayed behind. From his tight grip
around her waist, she had a sneaking suspicion the meeting with
Denise had not gone according to plan.

“
Is everything okay?” she
mumbled as they made their way down the hallway.

“
With all that special
ability you can’t sense what’s going on? What kind of psychic are
you, Melinda?”

“
Nathan,
please.”

“
We’ll talk in the car,” he
grumbled.

They stopped at a reception table just
inside the entrance. Nathan smiled at an older woman seated
there.

“
We’ve got a few pieces
from the collection we would like to purchase.”

“
I’d be happy to take care
of that for you, Mr. Cole.” The older lady gave a wispy smile.
“Please, fill out this card.” She handed Nathan a green card and a
pen. “We’ll contact you after the show so you can pick up your
purchase.”

He turned from the table and shoved
the card and pen at Melinda. “Fill this out with the paintings you
want.”

“
Are you sure about
this?”

He placed his mouth against her ear.
“I’ve got to buy something to keep Denise happy. Just write down
anything so we can get the hell out of here.”

Melinda carried her program and the
green card to a corner of the reception table. She hastily
scribbled the two titles of the works Ren had shown her in the
solarium.

As they were leaving, Nathan handed
the green card to the older woman behind the table. “Thank you for
a lovely evening.”

Once out of the stately home, they
were practically racing to his Jaguar when she yanked on his arm,
stopping him.

“
What happened? What’s
wrong?”

Nathan ran his hand across his
forehead, appearing pale. “She’s having second thoughts. She wants
to renegotiate some of the terms and limit my control of the final
development.”

“
But I thought everything
was fine.”

He pressed the keyless remote,
unlocking his car. “So did I. I think someone got to
her.”

“
What do you mean by
that?”

He reached for the passenger side
door. “I have enemies, Melinda. People in this town who are jealous
of my success and would like to see me fail.”

“
Like Sal
Cuccina?”

He opened the door for her. “Among
others.”

“
Is there anything you can
do to change her mind?”

He waved to the interior of the car.
“No. I’ve got to wait this out and see what happens.”

As Melinda dissected the rage in his
face, a cascade of violent thoughts swirled in her head. She saw
men being choked and Denise Becnel cowering in fear.

Hoping to quiet his wrath, she placed
her hand on his forearm. “It will be fine, Nathan.”

His eyes desperately searched hers.
“Is that what you see? Do you have visions about the
outcome?”

She didn’t have the strength to tell
him her words were meant as reassurance and not insight into the
future. “Denise will come to her senses and agree to your terms,”
she stated, adding to her lie.

His sour mood lifted. “That makes me
very happy.” He paused and slowly smiled. “I do have one other
question for you.”

“
Anything,
Nathan.”

“
What did you and Ren talk
about?”

Melinda kept her cool as she moved
toward the car. “Art. He used to sell paintings on Jackson
Square.”

“
Did you know him
then?”

She climbed into the front seat. “No,
but he knew about me.”

“
He did?” He placed his
hand on the roof of his car and leaned inside. “Are you sure you
don’t remember him? Perhaps you two were friendly once. You seemed
real damn friendly tonight.”

The air grew thick with tension, but
Melinda said nothing to alleviate it. Nathan’s glaring gaze probed
her face and then he stood back from the car.

“
If that’s the way you want
it, Melinda, don’t tell me.” He slammed the passenger door
shut.

Melinda winced as
the
thwack
echoed
throughout the car. She waited for him to come around to the
driver’s side door, mulling over ways to soothe him. But after he
took his seat in the car, he avoided looking at her.

As they drove down Prytania Street,
Melinda noted the way his hands tightly gripped the steering wheel
and a restless feeling settled over her. Melinda suspected she was
about to see another side of Nathan Cole. Something the private man
rarely showed to anyone … his anger.

* * *

Melinda opened the door to her
apartment as Nathan hovered behind her. He had said nothing to her
on the drive back from the showing and simply nodded to the
security guard on duty at the desk. But as soon as he shut her
apartment door, he became very talkative.