Hewitt: Jagged Edge Series #1 (12 page)

"I can't. Not yet." Peter said, pulling his semi-hard cock from inside me.

The minute he pulled away, I knew whatever he was keeping from me was tearing him apart. I lifted my body from the couch and began straightening out my rumpled clothing. Looking up at the door, Peter was standing outside facing me. Tucking my blouse in my skirt, I asked, "Where are you going?"

"There's something I need to do. Cop is parked out front and Josh is out back. I'll be back in a few hours to take you home."

~****~

I wasn't sure what was going on with Peter. The last couple of days had been weird, to say the least. The last time I saw him was when he drove me home two days ago. His only communication with me was by cell and text. I kept thinking about what he said about Pierre. If it was true and Pierre did rape a girl, why hadn’t he made a move towards me? The only contact we had, was kissing. It just didn't make sense.

Tonight at the opening, somehow I needed to find out if what Peter said was true. I needed to confront Pierre about it, but I needed to be careful how I asked him. The last thing I wanted was to upset him.

Focusing on something else, I walked to the kitchen and poured myself a cup of coffee. Taking my coffee with me, I placed it on the bathroom counter as I filled the tub full of water. I needed to get a move on if I wanted to get to the gallery to finalize the remaining details of the opening.

Brie had already sorted out the details with the caterers. We both had worked hard to get all of the displays ready for the opening. My only hope was that the opening would bring in some avid collectors and some of the pieces could be sold.

It was approaching late morning and I needed to head out to the gallery. In order to save time, I thought it would be easier to get ready at the gallery instead of at the condo. Placing my dress in a garment bag, I grabbed it along with my needed essentials and headed to the parking garage. Just like my father promised, a shiny new Lexus was delivered yesterday. He assured me he got a good deal on it. When I offered to pay him for the car, he insisted that what I did for him in Paris with that gallery was payment enough.

Tossing my things in the back seat, I pulled out onto 5th Avenue and headed to the gallery. It was so nice being able to come and go as I pleased without having to hail a cab. Looking out my rear view mirror, I could see that Peter was following me in his Camaro. The calls I was getting had stopped, at least I hadn't received any since my dinner with Pierre.

I drove around the back of the gallery and parked the Lexus in the parking spot closest to the back door. Gathering my things, I looked around hoping to see Peter, but he was no where around. I could only assume that he must be staked out in front. Walking through the back entrance, I could hear the subtle sound of violin music playing, letting me know the musicians had arrived and were warming up. The music they were playing was very soothing, something the guests would enjoy while looking at the art. I had to hand it to Brie, for someone who didn't know that much about art, she was beginning to fit right in. It was like she had a gift for putting things together and making them perfect.

Before I headed to my office, I wanted to take one more look around. I placed my things on the reception counter and headed up the stairs. Brie was making last-minute adjustments to the lighting, making sure every angle of the paintings were captured perfectly.

"Hey," I said, watching her step off the step ladder.

"Oh, hey, Lilly. So, what do you think?" Brie asked, pointing to the lights above.

"I think they are set perfectly. I’m glad we went with the softer bulbs. They really bring out the colors," I replied, scanning the rest of the area. "So, it looks like everything is set. I like the music you have chosen for tonight. Now we can only pray we will have a good turnout and sell some paintings."

As the evening wore on, more and more people arrived. As I was visiting with Dylan, I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. Turning, Pierre was standing before me. God, he was gorgeous. He was dressed in a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. I don't know if it was the lighting in the gallery, but his eyes were dark and mesmerizing. Dylan must have noticed my fixation on him, because she bumped my shoulder with hers.

"Sorry, Dylan Matheson this Pierre... umm," I couldn't believe that I didn't even know his last name.

"Marchand, Pierre Marchand. It's nice to meet you, Ms. Matheson," he said, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on the back.

"Please, call me Dylan," she smiled, looking at him with the same fixation.

"So, it seems your opening is a big hit," Pierre said.

"It is. Thank you so much for coming," I returned.

"It was my pleasure. Do you mind if I steal Lilly away?" he asked, looking at Dylan.

"Not at all. Enjoy."

Pierre took hold of my hand and we walked up the steps. I thought it would be the best place to start the tour. As we were enjoying ourselves, one waiter came along with a tray of appetizers and another with a tray of champagne. I was filled with so much excitement that I couldn't eat a bite, but the champagne offered something I needed to settle my nerves. By the time we finished our tour, Pierre had purchased several pieces of art. He knew a gentleman who would appreciate the details in the collection.

We were standing in front of a display of abstract art when Pierre softly whispered in my ear, "Is there somewhere where we can be alone?"

Taking him by the hand, I led him in the direction of my office. Once we were inside, I closed the door. "Can I get you something to drink?" I asked, walking to the credenza behind my desk.

"Whatever you're having will be fine," he said.

Pouring two tumblers with vodka, I rounded my desk and handed him one. Taking a sip, I kept my eyes on him. "Let's sit," I said, taking him by the hand and leading him to the couch. Somehow I needed to find out about what happened between him and the girl he was accused of raping. Placing my glass on the glass table, I faced him. "So tell me more about yourself?"

"What's there to tell? You already know so much about me," he said.

"Well, I don't know if you have any girlfriends, I don't know if you have ever been in love," I began. "What was growing up like?"

"I had a good childhood. My parents were very loving. They gave me everything that I wanted. They insisted I have the very best. I was an only child, so you could say that they spoiled me. When I went off to college, they made sure I went to the very best. That was where I fell in love for the first time. She was American. Her parents worked for the government. We were so in love until...,"

"Until what, Pierre?" I asked.

"Until her parents found out. She was two years younger than me and by all accounts a minor. Even though we loved each other, it didn't matter to them. They accused me of raping her. My parents did everything they could to have the charges dropped, but because her parents worked for the government they had a lot more pull," he explained.

"So what happened?" I asked, placing my hand on his.

"My parents ended up making a deal with them. If I agreed never to see her again, the charges would be reduced, my record sealed, and I would get no more than a slap on the hand." Pierre placed his hand over mine and tapped it lightly. "Needless to say, I transferred to a different college and never saw her again."

"That must have been horrible for you. To know that you could never be with the one you loved," I said, sympathetically.

"It was a long time ago, in the past." Pierre looked at me, taking hold of my hand and bringing it to his lips. "You remind me of her in a way."

I knew there was something mysterious about him. Now I knew. Peter was wrong about what he found. It was no more than an innocent love that her parents saw as something dirty and vile. What I couldn't understand was if the record was sealed, how Peter was able to get the information. While I was pondering the answer, Pierre lowered his lips to mine. His kiss was soft and tender, just like the one before. I placed my hand on his shoulder and pulled him closer to me. The kiss deepened as he began twisting his tongue with mine. It was no surprise that the French really knew how to kiss. I was like putty in his arms. Before we could take our connection any further, there was a knock on my door.

Standing, I straightened my dress and walked to the door. Brie was on the other side, holding her jacket over her arm while holding a stack of invoices in the other hand. "I'm going to take off. Here are the invoices for the sales we made this evening. I can go through them on Monday if you’d like. It was a really good night," she said, handing the stack of papers to me.

"Thank you so much for your help. I couldn't have done it without you," I admitted, taking the stack of invoices from her.

Placing the invoice on my desk, I turned toward Pierre. As much as I wanted this evening to continue, I was beat. All I wanted was my nice warm bed. Pierre must have read my mind. He stood from the couch drinking the last of his vodka and placing the glass on the table. "It's time that I left. Can I give you a ride home?"

"Thank you, but no. I have my car here. I'll walk you out," I offered.

Unlocking the front door, Pierre gave me a light peck on the cheek. I watched as he headed to his car. Closing the door, I turned and leaned up against it and surveyed the gallery. Only then did I realize what was happening to me. How could I have feelings for two very different men? Peter, on one hand, was strong and controlling with secrets; while Pierre was romantic and willing to share his. How long could I continue seeing both of them before one of them got hurt?

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Lilly

I could feel the sun shining through the blinds in my bedroom signaling that morning was already here. After Pierre left the gallery, I finished cleaning up the remnants of the opening. Even though it ended up being a good turn out, I was glad that it was over. Jumping from my bed, I took a quick shower and pulled on a pair of workout shorts, a sports bra, and a light tank. I felt like for once, everything was going my way. Locking the door, I headed out to Maximum Capacity to see if I could get in a quick workout in before heading to the gallery. I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me going over the sales invoices. I couldn’t let Brie struggle through them, knowing she had done so much for me in such a short amount of time. I thought it would be nice to give her Monday off, especially after all the hard work she did.

The air in the gym was a little lighter than normal. It didn't seem quite as crowded as it normally was for a Sunday morning. Heading to my favorite treadmill, I decided to do a quick warm-up before I tackled the weights. It would have been nice to see Pierre so I could work out with him, but he wasn’t here.

Listening to my iPod, the speed on the treadmill suddenly slowed and the display monitor went black. Pulling my ear buds from my ears, I turned around and saw Peter standing at the end of the treadmill holding the electrical cord in his hand. His smile was bright, and he once again looked like a Greek God.

Placing my hands on my hips, I looked over to him annoyed. "That wasn’t funny, Peter," I said.

"I needed to get your attention," he confessed, plugging the cord back into the wall.

"Okay, you got it, so what is this about?" I asked, stepping off the treadmill.

"I thought we could work out together. I could spot you," he said with a grin.

"Sure,” I agreed.

We headed to the weight room; I could feel Peter watching me from behind. Taking a look to my right, I saw his face in the mirrored wall. Knowing that look, I added a little something extra to my step and watch as his face lit up. I knew that it wasn’t fair to lead him on in this way, but I had to admit, it was fun watching him drool.

When we finished our workout, Peter offered to buy me breakfast. I agreed, since I skipped breakfast and my morning Java. I suggested we go to the corner café, which was a couple of blocks from the gym. There was something that caught my attention. Looking behind me, I could have sworn I saw Pierre's car stopped at the light. I must have been seeing things, because it was no longer there.

Peter must have noticed me turn. "What are you looking at?"

"It's nothing, I thought I recognized Pierre's car," I said, hesitantly.

Peter turned around right away and began to scan the area as he walked backwards. He must have been satisfied there was nothing to see, because he turned again and walked forward. "So I take it you aren't taking my advice to stay away from him."