Fated (10 page)

His
amber eyes burned into me as he watched me open the front door and step
outside. It was just starting to turn into dusk, but the outdoor building
lights illuminated us as our eyes met.

"Hi,
Caden." I was thankful that I managed to keep my voice steady.

"Lauren."
That one word falling from Caden's lips seemed more erotic than anything I had
experienced in my life. He said my name as if it were both a curse and a
promise. I didn't miss the way his eyes swept my body, his jaw tightening.

I
gave him a small smile, trying to appear casual and wanting to set the mood for
the evening. "Thanks for picking me up."

Caden
nodded, still watching me. I wanted to squirm under his perusal, but I met his
gaze with equanimity. I was relieved when he finally turned and opened the car
door of the Bentley behind him. I was acutely aware of his hand against the
small of my back as he guided me inside, the contact making my skin feel like
it was burning, even through the barrier of the dress.

I
tried to climb into the backseat as gracefully as I could, greeting the driver
politely. The interior of the car seemed almost suffocating when Caden slid
into the backseat, although I was relieved he left an appropriate amount of
space between us.

"Nice
car," I remarked dryly as the driver pulled away from the curb. The
ostentatiousness of the Bentley amused me, seeming almost comical.

The
corners of Caden's lips turned up. "It's not mine. I just ride in whatever
my car service sends me. Joseph once read them the riot act when they came to
pick me up in a minivan because they were short on cars. Ever since then,
they've been careful about what they pick me up in, even though I overruled
Joseph and told them I didn't care."

I
grinned, welcoming Caden's lightened mood. "Somehow I can't imagine you in
a minivan. I don't get the soccer mom vibe from you."

Caden
shrugged as his gaze touched on my hair, his smile turning into a frown. "I
told you I wanted you to wear your hair down."

I
pressed my lips together, telling myself to not get riled up by his dictatorial
comment. I didn't want to start out the night with an argument.

"I
decided to take your comment as a suggestion, not an order." I gave him a
small smile to make sure he took my statement with no antagonism.

Caden
didn't seem placated by my attempt to be diplomatic. "Then you were
mistaken. It wasn't a suggestion."

My desire
to keep things peaceful vanished as irritation rose in me. "You're my
boss, not my fashion consultant. It's a little out of your realm to be telling
me how to wear my hair."

Caden
raised an eyebrow in challenge, although he now seemed more amused than
anything else. This irritated me even more.

"You'll
soon come to find out there's not much out of my realm."

"Whatever,"
I muttered, looking out the window. It wasn't the wittiest comeback, but I
didn't want to get into an argument with him. I didn't trust myself around him
when it involved any emotion besides professional detachment.

We
spent the rest of the car ride in silence, although I managed to stop staring
out the window sulkily. It was dark by the time we pulled up in front of the
gallery. I turned to find Caden smiling at me ingratiatingly.

"No
more comments about your hair, I promise."

I
was surprised by his attempt to smooth over our disagreement, and I immediately
smiled at him, my annoyance disappearing.

"Good,"
I said wryly. "I'd hate to have to put you in your place in front of all
your colleagues."

Caden's
eyebrows lifted as if he didn't think I had the ability to put him in his
place, but he didn't reply as he opened the car door. After he climbed out, he
turned around and offered me his hand. I grasped it, my pulse quickening at the
feel of his warm, calloused hand gripping mine. I forced myself to keep a
composed face as I exited the car as gracefully as I could.

When
Caden made no move to release my hand after I got out of the car, I surreptitiously
pulled my hand out of his. He glanced down at me with an unreadable look, but
he was soon distracted by a woman rushing over to him. She was heavily perfumed
and wearing a green dress that looked almost as expensive as the diamonds
around her neck.

"Caden!
I'm so happy you made it!" She kissed Caden on both cheeks, and I felt a
spurt of unhappiness that he allowed it. For one brief moment, I wish I hadn't
pulled my hand out of his.

"Sharon,"
Caden said with a nod. "It's good to see you."

Sharon's
eyes glittered excitedly. "It's already a madhouse in there. Word got out
that this is your last exhibition for a while, so everyone’s here.”

Caden
smiled grimly, and I felt a pang of sympathy for him. I could understand not
wanting to be the center of attention. It seemed Caden and I had more in common
than I initially thought.

Sharon
looked at me inquisitively and Caden nodded his head towards me.

"Sharon,
this is Lauren Sloan." Caden looked at me. "Sharon Greenwood owns the
gallery."

Sharon
kissed me on both cheeks as well. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren."
She studied me, not trying to hide her curiosity.

"It's
nice to meet you too, Sharon." And then I couldn't help blurting out my
next statement. "I'm Caden's assistant."

Sharon
smiled politely at me, her look of interest fading with my declaration. She
turned back to Caden. "There's already a lot of press here, so we should
get inside."

Caden
looked less than pleased, but he nodded obligingly. His hand settled on the
small of my back as he guided me into the gallery, making me flinch. It was one
thing to have him touch me there when he was helping me into a car. It was
another thing when we were just walking; his gesture conveyed an intimacy we
didn't share. I felt a flutter of excitement deep inside me, and that feeling
alone made me want to pull away in precaution, but I didn't want to draw
Sharon's attention to it so I just left it alone.

Joseph
and Kate met us at the door, both talking a mile a minute. It made me realize
that just because we hadn't driven with other people didn't mean I wasn't just
one of his entourage. I told myself that I had foolishly read too much into
Caden’s request for my presence tonight. I expected to feel relieved, but
instead I felt an acute pang of disappointment.

"Caden,
we only need to talk two press outlets," Kate advised. "The others
can just pick up the interview."

"Are
you crazy?" Joseph looked at Kate with disgust. "If this is his last
appearance for a while, he has to talk to all the press."

Kate
rolled her eyes. "Do you seriously think Caden is willing to talk to all
of them? Joseph, you've worked for him for years, yet you know shit about
him."

I
admired how Kate handled Joseph. I had only spoken to her on the phone before
tonight, but her no-nonsense attitude matched her appearance. When Caden had
introduced me, she had been efficiently polite but had assessed me with a
practiced eye. I wasn't surprised that Caden would hire someone who cut through
all the bullshit as his publicist.

Joseph's
color rose at her words. "And you know shit about being a publicist!"

Caden
sighed, as if he was used to their antics. "I don't feel like mediating a
pissing match right now. I'm doing two interviews and that's it."

Kate
smiled in triumph while Joseph shot both of them a look of displeasure and
stomped off.

"You're
going to have to do something about him," Kate commented.

"I
know. I've kept him on for way too long. He was convenient since he has all the
right connections, but it's not worth it at this point."

Kate
shook her head as she led us into the gallery. "Caden, you don't need an
agent with connections. All they need to do is mention your name to get through
any door."

Caden
didn't comment as we walked into a large entryway. An expansive area was
sectioned off by rope with dozens of people standing inside with cameras around
their necks. They started rushing over when they caught sight of Caden, but
Kate stepped in front of him, her expression daring anyone to push past her.

"Two
interviews only." She turned to a man and a woman standing amidst the
crowd. "Noah, Susan, you two can ask questions. Everyone else will have to
pick up from their interviews."

I
heard disgruntled mutterings but that didn't stop them from taking pictures. I
took an immediate step back, not wanting to be included in the shots. Caden
looked down at me, but he didn't protest as his hand slipped away from my back.

The
man Kate had called out as Noah interviewed Caden first. I stood in the
background as I listened to the conversation, noting the people who were
passing by the roped off section as they made their way into the gallery. They
craned their heads to get a glimpse of Caden.

After
the interview was over, the other journalist stepped up to Caden and she asked
almost the same exact questions. Caden answered politely, but I could hear the
undercurrent of boredom in his voice.

"How
do you feel about some people calling your latest collection obscene?"

The
previous journalist had asked him the same question and Caden answered
similarly.

"That's
more of a reflection on the person who sees my work as obscene, rather than the
work itself. There's nothing obscene about the study of the female body in one
of its most raw moments."

"You
don't believe that you're just sexualizing the women in your photographs?
What's the difference between you and Playboy?"

Instead
of getting upset, Caden smiled wryly. "That's up to the observer to
decide. I prefer to let my work speak for itself, not the other way
around."

The
journalist leaned in closer, a predatory glint in her eye. "There's rumors
that you're the one that brings the women in your photographs to orgasm. Is
that true?"

Before
Caden could answer, I saw a hand shoot out and grab the journalist's arm,
pulling her away from Caden. Kate looked furious as she spoke rapidly to the
journalist. I overheard her sharply telling the journalist she had been told
that question was off limits and that the interview was over.

Caden
turned to me with a faint smile. He knew I had overheard the question, and for
some reason that seemed to please him. If he thought I was going to broach the
subject, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

His
hand settled on the small of my back again as we walked into the main part of
the gallery. I tried to ignore it for the sake of my peace of mind. Caden was
immediately surrounded by people clamoring to talk to him and compliment his
collection. Caden stopped to talk to a few people, although he replied to most
admirers with a curt nod and a thank you.

Caden
introduced me to everyone he spoke to at length, but I was disconcerted that he
just introduced me by name. I didn't want anyone to think I was Caden's date,
so I followed every introduction with the explanation that I was his assistant.

When
there was finally a lull, Caden turned to me. "Afraid people will get the
wrong idea?"

I
took a sip of the drink someone had shoved in my hand, smoothing back a tendril
of hair that insisted on springing forward. "What do you mean?"

Caden
raised an eyebrow. "Every time I introduce you to someone, you can't tell
them fast enough that you're my assistant."

I
swallowed nervously. "I
am
your assistant. I'm here strictly in a professional
capacity."

He watched
me for a few moments, a flicker of an emotion in his eyes I didn't want to
examine. Finally, his mouth quirked. "Do you want to see the
photographs?"

It
had been easy to avoid seeing them with the press of people that had surrounded
us. I didn't know how I would handle seeing Caden's photographs with him beside
me, and I was apprehensive that I wouldn't be able to hide my reaction. But I
had no reason to give to not see them, at least not one I was willing to voice,
so I just nodded.

Caden's
hand was no longer on my back, but he guided me by my elbow so that we could
actually see his photographs. He nodded at the people around us, but in a
manner that told them to not approach.

He
stopped in front of one photograph, a black and white photo of a woman with her
back arched so acutely that I wondered if she was a gymnast. One arm was
reaching down her body, her hand stretching for something that was beyond the
edge of the photo, although I could well enough imagine what she was touching.
Her other hand was gripping the fabric beneath her and her breasts were being
pushed up, her erect nipples stark against the white background. But the most
arresting thing about the picture was her face. Her eyes were clenched shut and
her mouth was stretched open, the sounds lost in the two-dimensional photo, but
I could almost hear her cries. If I didn't know any better, I would think she
was in pain. But I did know better.