To Catch a Billionaire (12 page)

“Would you join me here, Miss Cameron?” Tristan asked with a cagey smile.

Shock ran through her, chased by feelings of defeat. He’d set her up, damn it. Erin knew what was about to happen. It was unlikely she’d be able to sidestep him. She glanced at surrounding faces, knowing she couldn’t very well refuse his request. It would seem rude and didn’t these damned people have enough to talk about concerning her?

All eyes were on Erin. Whispers ran through the room as she offered a huge and completely false smile to all. She climbed the three steps to the platform. Tristan slid his arm around her waist and drew her close.

“I’d like to share my great news. Erin Cameron has agreed to sell Cameron Gallery to me.”

Lights flashed, cameras clicked and Erin smiled the smile, all the while realizing something had given Tristan enough confidence to offer this lie to the audience. What had he found out and from whom? She sighed before stiffening her spine. Well, hell, he was a step ahead of her and didn’t that just piss her off? Unwilling to call him a liar, and make a scene, Erin stared out over the top of the crowd, her mind traveling at the speed of light while she wondered why he thought he could put her in such an untenable position as this one. She’d never signed a contract and he certainly hadn’t the right to assume she would.

“Would you care to say a few words about Jeff’s show, Erin?” Tristan asked with a knowing look.

Go ahead, rub salt into the wound, no problem. Her promise of retribution for his lie was conveyed by her hard-eyed glare as Erin looked at him.

Erin stepped to the microphone. “Within the next week or two, our gallery will host the spectacular artist, Jeff Godrick. I hope you’ll attend this beautiful display of work by an extremely talented young artist.”

A round of applause followed as a few heads dipped toward one another and gossip ran rampant.

She whispered, “You’ll pay for this, Tristan. I promise.”

His laughter deep, he nodded and said, “I dearly hope so, lass.”

They were swarmed by women as she and Tristan stepped away from the speaker. Erin left him to answer their questions. Old and young women alike wanted a piece of him, a touch, or more. She felt his magnetism. Why would she expect these other women not to be as affected as she was? Good grief, how could things have gotten so far beyond her control?

The weight of rampant jealousy, the likes of which she’d never experienced before, rushed over her. Along with lust for the man who may have beguiled her out of ownership of her family gallery. She not only wanted to slap him for that, but wanted to rip his clothes off, fuck him royally and keep him to herself without him ever seeing the light of day again. Thankfully, Tristan had no legal rights to the gallery and had no way to push her into making a deal.

Erin made her way toward Giorgio, who gaped at her as she approached. She’d now have to explain her unexpected liaison with the man she’d wanted to keep from owning her gallery.
Crap!

“You didn’t tell me he bought your gallery,” Giorgio murmured as he walked her toward a quiet section of the room.

Erin stiffened and said, “It came as a surprise to me as well. You know when you’re caught between a rock and a hard place? Well, that’s where I am right now. He’s made his stand and now I must make mine.”

“Ooh, does he know what he’s in for?” Giorgio cooed.

She smiled and thought about the price he’d pay.

The heaviest sex he’d ever have. That’s what he was in for. Then she’d drop kick him and walk away. No way would he take her gallery, never. Erin nearly stamped her foot. Still under watchful eyes, she grinned and gave Giorgio a hug.

“Thank you for being my date. You can leave if you’d like. I’ll be going home shortly,” Erin said.

Giorgio checked his watch. “I can still make it to Jeremy’s performance if I hurry. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t, honest. Thanks again. I’ll get this dress back to you by the weekend.” Erin watched him stride across the floor and out the door. She could hardly wait to make her own escape. The evening had definitely not gone as she’d have liked. The only good things were her fantasies.

Nearing the front door, she felt him behind her. She turned when Tristan remarked drily, “Leaving so soon? I thought we might have a talk.”

“I see, you think we’re close friends now because of your announcement to these people?” Erin challenged and arched her brows.

“I do, and so do you,” he said.

His eyes were on her cleavage again. Erin smiled and tucked her hand in his. “Let’s find a place where we can have that chat, shall we?” she said smoothly, while leading him from the room.

The private spot she walked him to, a nook under a stairwell, was just what Erin had hoped to find. She drew him to her, stepped in close and licked his lips with her tongue. “I’ve been waiting to do this for some time,” she breathed and laid a deep kiss on him.

She reveled in the way he matched her kiss for kiss, grind for grind. His hands cupped her breasts as his mouth found its way to them. Her breath quickened, her desire intensified, and her need for Tristan Forsyth circumvented all else in her life. She had to have him.

A janitor’s closet lay further down the corridor. She pulled him into it, closed the door and locked it. Space was limited. Erin heard his soft laugh as he lifted her dress. She felt him touching her, leaving her wetter than she had been. When he dropped onto his knees and licked her, she groaned with pleasure.

When she’d come again and again, he said, “Let’s get out of here. I have a suite close by.”

*  *  *

She didn’t notice the New York skyline until much later. Tristan met her moves with as much heat and need as her own. They’d fucked on the carpet, the sofa and the counter before they’d made their way to his bed. Erin wanted him again and again, no matter how many times they both came. Her passion exploded each time he touched her, no matter where.

Hours later, Erin quietly lay in his arms. She felt his chest rise and fall as he breathed. Her own heart beat rapidly against his body. She was sure he could feel it.

Sated, she slipped from his grasp and rose from the bed.

“I’ll be going now,” she told him.

“Why not stay the night?”

“No thanks, I got what I wanted.”

“Did you? I’d say we both got what we wanted,” Tristan answered in a satisfied tone.

Erin turned to him as she stepped into her shoes. “If you think for one moment that you’ll take over my gallery, you’d better think again. Nobody will ever take what’s mine, understand?”

He’d risen to lean on an elbow as he watched her dress. Erin saw his muscles ripple.

“You’re sure, lass?”

She remarked, “I’ll keep my business, run it the way I see fit, and be done with you, Mr. Forsyth. If you think any different, think again.”

“You’re sure you won’t sell?” Tristan laughed out loud and flopped back onto the bed. “Lass, you have no idea what I’m capable of. If you did, you wouldn’t throw words around so easily.”

“That’s how it’s to be, then? Watch yourself, Tristan.” Erin strode from the suite, took a cab to the museum and drove her car home in the dark of the night.

S
UNLIGHT STREAMED THROUGH
a crack in the drapes that covered her bedroom windows. Erin glanced at the clock. She’d slept later than usual. With a yawn and a stretch, memories of the evening before flew into her head. Her stomach tightened as she thought of their physical reactions to one another. Then, annoyed by Tristan’s laughter before she’d left him, Erin flung the covers aside and got out of bed.

A light tap on the door gave her a start. “Come in,” Erin called while she wrapped and tied the silk robe.

Mrs. Hardy bustled in with a tray filled to its edges. Steaming coffee, a small cup of jelly and an array of scones lay grouped together.

“What’s this for?” Erin asked.

“I figured you’d slept in and might enjoy breakfast in bed for a change,” Mrs. Hardy answered.

“Are you serious? I have to get to the gallery. There’s much to be done in preparation of Jeff Godrick’s opening.” Erin made for the bathroom and then stopped short. She turned and said, “Thank you for your thoughtfulness, Mrs. Hardy. Is there something you’d like to confess?”

“Oh, uh, no. I’ve nothing to confess, Miss Erin,” Mrs. Hardy vehemently denied.

Erin crossed her arms and leaned against the door casing. “The last time you did something like this, you had a confession to make.”

Mrs. Hardy seemed to be thinking hard. “I think you’re right... though, not this time. I merely wanted to treat you to a relaxing morning. You did get in rather late last night.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Breakfast in the kitchen will be fine. I’ll be down in a jiffy,” Erin said, closing the bathroom door behind her.

“I’ll leave the tray on the sideboard for you. There’s grocery shopping to be done this morning, so I’ll be out for a while,” Mrs. Hardy called through the closed door.

She was definitely mending fences. What could the woman have gotten up to in twenty-four hours? Erin shook the water from her hair, smoothed the towel over her body and chose her outfit for the day. Ready to meet whatever came her way, Erin skipped down the staircase and into the kitchen. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Tristan Forsyth sitting at the table as though he owned it.

“What the hell are you doing in my kitchen, Forsyth?” she demanded.

“Is that any way to speak to the man you made mad passionate love to for hours last night?” Tristan asked with a wry smile.

Thank goodness Mrs. Hardy wasn’t around to hear his words. Yikes.

“Consider yourself uninvited to my home,” Erin said with a hand on her hip.

“I stopped by to share what I’ve learned about you and Cam. You might find it extremely interesting, Erin.”

“Please, just leave now, will you?” Erin said coldly.

His eyes gleamed as Tristan rose from the chair. Thinking he was leaving, Erin wasn’t prepared when he stepped into her space. She would have moved if he hadn’t clamped his hand around her wrist and yanked her close.
Darn.
Her body reacted to him as it had every time they’d come close to one another.

His lips met hers with a swiftness she couldn’t avoid. Erin’s determination to cast him aside meant nothing when Tristan was near, when he touched her – and the sex... My God, it had been incredible. With trembling knees, racing pulse and a quickened heartbeat, Erin knew she’d taken a treacherous turn and tried to force herself to step back.

It wasn’t happening.

Tristan held her in a steel grip. Her willpower bottomed out. Erin was lost to him the moment his hands moved over her breasts.

With all her might and determination, Erin forced her way out of his clutches. Her mind muddled, she sucked in a breath and smoothed her hair. She needed to buy enough time for her senses to stop reeling so she asked, “Are you planning to seduce me every time we meet, or just right now?”

Though he was hard and ready, Tristan never missed a beat. “I’ll have you as often and anywhere I can get you. You started this Erin... I’ll finish it.”

“Meaning?” she snapped.

“I’ve decided sex is better than arguing.” His eyes were hooded as he stared at her lips and then at her breasts.

“It’s just sex.”

Tristan’s eyebrows shot up a bit. “What?”

“We had sex, nothing more.”

“And here I thought you might be in love with me,” he said and ran his knuckles down the side of her cheek.

Her passion mounted as he put his hand at the nape of her neck and leaned in for another kiss – this one a softer, gentler kiss than the first. All she wanted was to have him naked and take him on the kitchen table, now. Not a second later, but right now. She fumbled for Tristan’s zipper when she heard a cough behind her. Panic replaced her passion when Mrs. Hardy entered the room.

Tristan’s chuckle brought heat to her face. Erin turned toward Mrs. Hardy and breathlessly said, “I thought you’d gone to the market.”

“Obviously.” Mrs. Hardy looked everywhere but at the man and woman before her. “I forgot my purse.” She sidled toward the cabinet and whisked the purse from it. Without giving either of them a glance, Mrs. Hardy scooted from the room.

Tristan burst into laughter and no matter how hard Erin tried to hold it in, she couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Good thing we weren’t on the table, huh?” Tristan asked. His humor subsided.

Taking advantage of the moment to move away from him, Erin walked across the room, took another cup from the cupboard and added it to the tray she lugged to the table. Busily, she plopped the plate of pastries between their places and served the tepid coffee. He rose, picked up both mugs and zapped them in the microwave.

“Dig in, it may be the last meal we have today,” she instructed Tristan. “Mrs. Hardy might not come home after that display.” Erin rolled her eyes and snickered.

“You were planning to take advantage of me before Mrs. Hardy made her presence known, weren’t you?”

Erin grinned and shrugged. “I was, I admit it. Your zipper was giving me difficulties.”

Tristan sipped the coffee, munched a scone and said, “I can rectify that now if you’d like.”

She put her hands up. “No, no. I’m good, thanks.”

His brows jittered up and down and she started to laugh.

“Why, yes you are, Erin. Yes, you are.”

“Seriously though, what did you come by to tell me?” she asked.

“When I got back to my hotel this morning, I had a message from Durant, the policeman investigating your robbery. He asked that I call him.” Tristan brushed scone crumbs from his fingertips. “He’s of the opinion that Cam stole the artwork and you’re covering up for her. He was interested in my knowledge of you both.”

Her mouth hung open.

“Wait,” he said, “I told him I’d met you both, but I said nothing more. You might want to confess to him that you and Cam are one and the same, Erin, or you both could be in hot water with the police department.”

“Well, shit, doesn’t that ruin a day that started out on a high note?” Erin twirled a strand of her hair while she thought of the consequences of her actions. “Did he mention any suspects in the case, other than me and Cam?”