She's Got Dibs (19 page)

“Count on it.” With a sweep of her black sequined clutch purse off the dresser, she started down the hall.

“Either way, it should be inter—”

Tessa stopped dead in her tracks, though her pulse galloped ahead in direct contrast to her feet. Smoldering desire darkened the irises of Dibs’s eyes, flickering against her skin and heating her body as if she’d ventured too near a roaring fire.

He sat back heavily against the couch, shifting his focus down the length of her. He slowly lifted his scotch, and then hesitated. The ice clinked against the glass when he tipped the rim to his lips.

The moment stretched and she spiraled back through time, had suddenly stepped out of the hotel bathroom to stand before him in her negligee. Her breath caught. A turbulent maelstrom of arousal gathered and pooled in her core. Her knees involuntarily jerked, and she fought the urge to claim the distance between them and crawl onto his lap.

He locked his piercing gaze to hers. “I thought you said you had nothing to wear.” His voice raked over gravel, husky and thick.

A thousand iridescent butterflies fluttered along the edges of her vision. Would he welcome her with open arms? Tend her lips with gentle kisses or crush his mouth to hers? She placed a trembling hand on her stomach and smoothed down the dress. “I found this at the back of my closet. Do you think it’s okay?”

“I think—” He blew a breath through his pursed lips, slightly shook his head. “I’d better not let you out of my sight.” He drained the glass and smacked it to the table.

A desperate thundering filled her ears as he stood and opened her coat. Lowering it onto her shoulders, his hands lingered, smoothed down and back up her arms.

“Shall we go?” His low murmur washed past her ear.

Eyes closed, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down—hard. Yes, yes, they should go. Before she did something immeasurably stupid.

****

A hand inside the crook of Dibs’s elbow, Tessa crossed the threshold. She stopped and blinked repeatedly, the high voltage lights in the gallery momentarily stealing her sight. “Whoa,” she whispered.

“And here’s me without my sunglasses.” Amusement danced across Dibs’s lips when she offered him a wide-eyed stare.

A flash exploded before her eyes and she flinched, squinting into the additional blinding glare. A photographer nodded curtly and withdrew.

“Okay, this is completely bizarre,” she said.

“Nothing like giving you a little warning there.” Dibs rested his hand on top of hers, stealing a peek over his shoulder, and squeezed when the couple behind them entered the gallery and were immediately photographed. The horrified shock and surprise on their faces exactly mirrored her and Dibs’s reaction, and they exchanged a quiet laugh.

Throughout the gallery, sophisticated party-goers stood gaunt in the stark light, their dark attire lending the illusion of floating heads. A crowd three guests deep had amassed near the bar. “Looks like you’re buying a few dinners,” she whispered.

“The pleasure is mine.” With a private wink, Dibs escorted her farther into the main room, a hand nested in the small of her back. “I’ll go wait in line for some drinks. You should mingle.” He slipped her coat off her shoulders and crossed to the coat check with it folded over his arm.

Various sculptures surrounded her at wide intervals, some cast in bronze and others chiseled roughly in what she assumed was concrete. She approached a modern piece, the series of linked ovals sculpted to resemble a vertical section of a very large, heavy chain. On the opposite side of the last link, a thin gentleman assessed her from under his heavy lids before rounding the artwork to stand at her elbow.

A black turtleneck sweater emphasized the slim line of his neck, his long goatee peppered with gray, shoulder-length dark hair slicked back from the deep widow’s peak on his forehead. “What do you think of this piece?”

Tessa tipped her head. “It’s interesting.”

“Touch it.”

A frown crumpled her brow. “Excuse me?”

“It’s my piece.” Peering at her over his long nose, he edged closer. “Touch it.”

“That’s okay.” She smiled politely and withdrew a step.

“Oh, come on.” He captured her hand and placed it palm down on the sculpture. “You need to experience it with your hands in order to fully appreciate it.”

His eyebrows rose as he slowly guided her hand along the grainy texture of the piece. He leaned in. “Now what do you think?”

“Is white wine okay?”

Tessa jerked her hand out from where it was trapped and whirled toward Dibs. “Yes.” She accepted the glass and moved to the protection of his side.

His hand slid to the far edge of her hip, his fingers clenched, and she stumbled a bit when he yanked her closer still.

The artist glanced between them, politely tilted his head, and glided away.

“Was he just hitting on you?” Gray steel transformed Dibs’s gaze into brittle shards of ice, tracking the artist’s progress across the room. “I knew it.”

“Oh, please.” She waved her hand. “He’s a one. Not interested.”

“Come on.” He increased the pressure on her side. “Let’s see what else this place has to offer.”

He accompanied her throughout the exhibits, discussing the various artists and introducing her to several guests along the way. She smiled and shook hands, laughing lightly at the pleasant conversation and eclectic mood of the crowd.

Not until Dibs abruptly straightened at her side did she frown and follow his fierce glare, finding that same artist had joined their group. She went easily when he steered her down a long corridor dotted with framed oils, a subtle smile in place on her lips.

In the final room of the gallery, a bronze sculpture entitled
Elements
sat high on a plain white pedestal, centered directly beneath a bright beam of light. She slowly circled the piece, her head tipping along the gentle curves of the fluid lines. About the size of a large bowl, the casting brought to mind a windswept snow bank, or perhaps a wave on the verge of capsizing.

“Do you like it?” Dibs asked.

“I think it’s phenomenal. Look here.” She pointed and he stepped to her side. “It’s fire here, and here, it’s water, and then over here, it’s the air. And see how the light reflects off the surface as if it’s moving? I’ve never seen anything so exquisite.”

“Neither have I.”

But when she glanced up, his eyes were focused on her. She grinned and elbowed him in the ribs. “Okay, hotshot, it’s getting a little too serious around here.”

She was hard pressed to remember the last time she’d had so much fun. Several of the attendees were Dibs’s associates from the Foundation, and just as he had mentioned, many of them asked after TNT, displayed genuine interest, or even asked for a business card.

As the evening drew to a close, they stood within a small group, discussing a huge yellow canvas spattered in shades of black and gray.

One of Dibs’s friends faced them and swung his wineglass back and forth. “So Dibs, how did the two of you meet?”

The breath froze in Tessa’s lungs and she tuned her ear to Dibs’s voice.

“Do you remember that ice storm we had a couple of weeks ago?”

His friend nodded.

Dibs dipped his chin in return and left for the bar.

Tessa smiled pleasantly, as if this explained everything, and then glanced over her shoulder. Dibs’s head was turned, his gaze waiting for hers, and they shared a private laugh from across the room.

A light touch skimmed her arm and she rejoined the group to find a curvy blonde standing before her, the skintight fit of her red evening dress leaving little to the imagination.

“So, is it Tessa or Rex?” the woman asked.

“It’s actually Tes—”

“Whatever.” She tossed a skein of wildly teased hair over her shoulder and inclined her head toward Dibs. “So tell me. Are the two of you dating?”

“We’re actually just friends.” The words popped from her mouth of their own accord, and the sultry vixen flicked one perfectly tweezed eyebrow in return.

“Excellent. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Tessa stood speechless as the blonde sauntered after Dibs. Her hand twitched at her side, and for a split second, she fought the impulse to snatch the back of the woman’s bouffant rat’s nest and drop her to her knees.

The woman settled a hand on Dibs’s back, smiled, and leaned in. He turned his ear to her moving lips, and when she pulled a business card from her purse, he nodded and hid the card in his pocket. She tossed her head back with a laugh, her breasts brushing his arm, a hand caressing a slow circle over his back.

Get your filthy, stinking hands off of him!

Tessa snapped back to the painting. The room reeled to the left. Her stomach pitched and sour bile rushed the back of her throat. Hurt and frustration doused her in frigid swells, lifting the hair on her arms. How could he? Did he really mean to call that floozy?

She pressed two fingertips to her forehead, icy against her fiery skin. Oh no…no, no…

She whirled around, searching for an escape, to flee the unexpected panic charging through her racing heart.

The smiling faces of the guests stretched and warped, sneering at her as she crossed the room. She straight-armed the door to the ladies’ room and stumbled to the couch in the lounge.

Cradling her face in her hands, she closed her eyes, the warnings slamming home too fast to sort them out. How could she have been so stupid? She couldn’t trust her heart. She
never
could. Hadn’t she learned her lesson with Michael? Dibs owed her nothing. They were merely friends. And yet she’d still started to think of him as hers.

But her heart was wrong. Once again, it was dead wrong. They weren’t a couple. They never had been. He was free to date whomever he chose. Stupid, stupid girl.

She sprang to her feet and stormed to the row of sinks, ran her trembling hands under the cold water and pressed them to her throat. Her makeup had transformed to a pasty film over her pale skin, painted and fake. But dark awareness floated in her eyes, telling her what she must do.

Time to pull back from Dibs, avoid any further chance of getting hurt. Their relationship had already gone too far, and she’d promised herself she would never face such pain again.

An internal click sounded. Exhaustion followed in its wake, and she slumped under the oppressive weight. Time to go home…alone…return to the one place where things were in her control.

Steeling her heart, she filled her lungs and slowly exhaled, turning for the door.

When she entered the gallery, Dibs remained at the bar beside
that thing
. No doubt making plans to meet after he drove her home. Something he’d probably done with any number of girls since the day they’d met. God, she was an idiot.

She stared blindly at the painting, jaw tight, all her energy focused on stemming her tears.

A moment later, he reappeared at her side, offering another glass of wine. She stared at the glass in his hand. “That’s all right, Dibs. I’m actually ready to leave.”

He frowned. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s fine.”

He slanted away from her, trepidation widening his eyes. “Uh oh.”

She smiled, the stretch of her lips awkward…tight. “No, really. I’m tired, that’s all.”

“Okay, then we’ll go.” He twisted back and forth then handed their drinks to a passing waiter.

Tessa scanned the room in an effort to avoid his gaze. “Why don’t you stay. I’ll just catch a cab.”

A deep scowl rutted his brow. “No, Rex. I brought you here. I’m taking you home.”

He wandered the gallery, saying his goodbyes, all while she held herself tightly in check, a taut bow string stretched firmly across her chest.

The string wrenched tighter when he returned with a smile, her coat hanging over his forearm. “Are you ready?”

She nodded and crammed her arms into the sleeves as he held the sides open.

During the ride home, he kept carefully glancing her way. She finally rolled her head along the back of the seat and kept her focus riveted to the street.

“You sure you’re all right, Rex?”

“I’m sure.” Young couples strolled the boulevard, arms linked or holding hands, heads bowed in private discussions.

He cleared his throat. “Listen. I need to talk to you about something.”

Yep. This was it. Time to let her down easy. She deeply inhaled and propped her elbow on the door, bracing the side of her neck in her hand. “What is it?”

“I’m going out of town for a while.”

That’s right. He enjoyed travel, had access to homes all over the globe. So it was a vacation, then. But not alone. Guys like Dibs didn’t go on vacation alone.

Maybe she should consider herself lucky. She’d never gotten as much from Michael. “Care to share with me how long you’re planning to be gone?”

“About a week.”

Tall buildings thrust dark silhouettes into the sky, and higher up floated a ribbon of stars. No matter how much her heart protested, his leaving was probably for the best. But wherever he was going, whomever he was going with, she needed to hear the words. From him. They would help solidify her decision to end this…this horrible mess she’d gotten herself into.
“Where are you going?”

“Botswana.”

She snapped her chin over. A visual of him kneeling before a small African child, their hands clasped before a thatched hovel, chased all other thoughts from her mind. “Wait…you’re seriously going to Africa?”

He smiled. “Yeah, I need to check on the school, make sure construction is still on schedule. And I have to personally be there.”

She swallowed past the thick knot crowding the base of her throat, pivoted back to the window. Because it was too late. And any questions she’d harbored about their future were frittered away like dandelion dust in the wind, leaving one stark truth behind.

Her connection to him ran much deeper than she’d ever intended.

Regardless of where he was going, who he was traveling with, their relationship still needed to end. It was the only way she could ensure her heart remained safe. “When do you leave?”