CHAPTER TWO
Letting out a breath, Stazi watched the couple walk away, and wondered if she’d convinced them about the value of the upcoming project. Selling the importance of authenticating the paintings the museum owned wasn’t easy, and she had no idea if she’d succeeded or failed.
Looking around the room, she noticed it was almost empty and decided she’d done as much as she could. After opening her purse, she dug out her phone and texted Lucky to see if she wanted to grab a drink before they headed home. In usual Lucky fashion, it took only a second for her to respond, and they agreed to meet one another in the middle of the cavernous room.
As she skirted the near-empty tables, she thought about her friend’s handsome boss and wondered what his story was. He certainly had an intensity about him that wasn’t seen often, and she wondered where it came from. Maybe it had something to do with being a soldier.
Shrugging, she decided it didn’t really matter because they were probably not going to be in one another’s company again. Which was a good thing because he was the type of man who would be hard to resist.
And resist she would.
No way was she going to allow herself to be distracted by a set of blue eyes when she was finally at a great place professionally. A lot of hard work and study had gone into her being considered for the committee and she wasn’t going to jeopardize it by thinking about the way his hand felt against her skin.
Shaking her head, she told herself it was probably nothing and whatever passed between them wasn’t going to happen again.
So, it didn’t matter.
Tying a bow on that neat lie made her feel better for about thirty seconds, and then she saw Lucky approach with an unrecognizable expression. “What’s wrong?”
“What in the world did you do to my boss?”
“Nothing. What are you talking about?”
Lucky looked from side to side and then raised an eyebrow. “I just answered a thousand questions about you. Hank wanted to know everything about you, including if you’re currently seeing anyone.”
“We’ve spent less than five minutes together and exchanged maybe fifty words. I can’t imagine why he’d be interested.”
Lucky pulled on Stazi’s hand and maneuvered her in the direction of the far corner. “He gave me clear instructions to bring you back to the table. Which I will only do if you think you might be interested. Otherwise, we can bounce, because cupid is not part of my job description.”
“Has he ever acted this way before or asked you to set him up?”
“God, no. He’s the calmest man I’ve ever met. Not a feather has been ruffled in the two years that I’ve worked with him. Even when a situation called for it. In fact, for a long time, I thought he had ice in his veins or a partial lobotomy. He’s always been the coolest cucumber in the bunch.”
“Well…I guess we could go back to the table.” Lucky stopped and gave her a once-over. “What?”
“Do you like him?”
Moving her hair off her shoulder, she shrugged. “I don’t know him, so I can’t answer that question. He’s very handsome, though, and chivalrous, so maybe I should just have a chat and see what’s up.” So much for the speech she just gave herself about not being interested. “Or not.” Tugging her friend’s arm, she tilted her head toward the door. “Let’s get out of here and go over to Pops for a glass of champagne.”
“That’s a great idea, but let’s give Hank five minutes of your time.” Squeezing her arm, she smiled. “The way he’s acting makes me think he’s smitten. Which is weird.”
Stazi let out a laugh and took Lucky’s hand. “Thanks.”
“That’s not what I mean. It’s just that I’ve only seen him with preppy, blonde, Lake Forest girls. Which is where he grew up, by the way.”
Scrunching her nose, Stazi felt a flash of disappointment. If that was his type, then his alleged interest made no sense. As a short Russian Jew, she was the exact opposite of those cool blonde women. “Maybe we should just skip it, then. I don’t have any interest in being someone’s experiment.”
“I don’t think it’s that at all. He seems genuinely interested. He even wanted to know what sports you played in high school and what clubs you participated in. When I told him we spent two years on the tennis team, he got a ridiculous smile.”
“That’s weird.”
“I know.” Lucky glanced up and then snorted. “He doesn’t look very happy.”
Stazi let out a giggle as she saw Hank standing next to the table with his arms crossed. She’d bet his foot was tapping with impatience because the stern look on his face suggested he didn’t enjoy waiting. “Have you ever seen him like that?”
“Never.”
They crossed the last few feet that separated them from Hank and his men, and she wondered what she was in for. The way he was looking at her reminded her of the hungry bear from one of her childhood books. He was a big man with wide shoulders and a broad chest, and he could probably consume her in one bite. A vivid picture of what exactly that might look like made her face flush because it involved them writhing around naked on a bed. Which is not a picture that regularly came to her mind. Especially about a man she should avoid.
Hank held out his hand and with little thought, she took it. The moment his large warm fingers wrapped around hers gently, a frisson of excitement ran up her arm. “Hello again.”
“Hello,” he said quietly.
Before she could respond, Lucky let out a strangled moan as she looked at her phone. “Jeezus.”
“What?” Stazi asked.
“One of the programs I’ve got running at the office just went offline. I have to go back and see what happened.” She turned toward Stazi with a frown. “Sorry, I better get over there and take care of it.”
“No problem.” As Stazi tried to take her hand away from Hank’s, she noticed he tightened his hold. “I’m ready to head out anyway.”
“Maybe you can show me around before you do,” Hank said as he stepped closer. “I hear the Chagall windows in the next room are beautiful.”
One of the men at the table let out a loud snort, and Hank turned and gave him a disapproving glare. “Maddox, you can keep your thoughts to yourself.”
“Sure, boss.” He covered his mouth and leaned back in his chair.
Lucky leaned forward, gave Stazi a measured look, and then kissed her cheek. Speaking quietly, she said, “I will call you later.”
“I’m fine,” Stazi whispered in response. Lucky gave her one last look and then waved to the group and walked away.
“You guys can head out too,” Hank said.
The three men wasted no time getting up from the table and buttoning their jackets. Their happy expressions reminded Stazi of a bunch of kids who were just let out of school for the summer. They shook Hank’s hand before they departed and were all gone in less than a minute. “They were relieved to get out of here.”
“Yeah, a night at a museum gala is not their idea of a good time.” He took a step closer and laced their fingers together. “I’ve been waiting all night to have some time with you.”
“Why?” she responded breathlessly as awareness zinged between them. The anticipation and excitement she felt were as tangible as a touch.
“Because…”
When he looked down and said nothing more, she figured he was as out of his comfort zone as she was. Which softened her resolve to keep distance between them. The aggressive nature he’d displayed earlier disappeared beneath an uncertainty she found charming.
“I’d love to hear about the Chagalls,” he said as he moved her hair off her shoulder.
A trail of desire skittered down her neck where his fingers had briefly skimmed over her skin. “All right, but it will have to be the short history because I need to be heading home soon.”
“Okay,” he said as he led them out of the room. “Maybe I can take you to dinner tomorrow.”
Deciding to ignore the invitation, she smiled and kept her mouth shut. Intellectually, she knew all her energy should be reserved for her career. Unfortunately, her heart and body wanted to spend it elsewhere.
As they walked out of the noisy room, the quiet of the halls seemed shocking. All that could be heard was the swishing sound of her dress and the sound of their shoes against the marble floors. As much as she wanted to say something, she decided not to. There was something heavy in the air and she didn’t want to disturb it.
Desire, nerves, expectations.
Maybe all three. Whatever it was…should probably stay exactly where it was. Because once she let it out, there would be no turning back.
***
Hank didn’t know how long Stazi was going to let him hold her hand, so he did his best to breathe the moment in. It was a practice he’d taken up when he was deployed and had experienced his first battle. The skirmish had let him know in no uncertain terms that his life could end at any moment, and that fact had been driven home again and again during his time downrange.
He’d discovered the only way to live with that sort of reality was to experience the blessed moments as fully as one could. And that’s exactly what he was doing right now with Stazi.
The truth of it was, he’d never expected to come home, and it had been his belief he would give his life in the battle to protect this country. Just like all the men he served with. Living with that reality sure as hell wasn’t for everyone, but for the select few who joined the Teams, it was.
His working theory was that the type of man attracted to becoming a SEAL wanted to give everything he had, to live fully, brutally, and without reservation. That certainly was what he’d been looking for when he went to Coronado, and he’d found it.
The woman whose hand he was holding was evoking similar desires, and he prayed for a chance to see what they could become. “Thank you for spending a little time with me,” he said as they walked along.
“Your request was hard to resist. The Chagall windows are some of my favorite pieces in the museum. I have a little soft spot for the artist because he studied art in St. Petersburg, which is where I was born.”
Looking down, he felt himself smile as he realized he had his very own beautiful Russian doll.
Which was nothing he could ever say out loud. It was chauvinistic to think of her that way, but he couldn’t help himself. She was so small and delicate. Add to that her fine features and all he could think of were the dolls his sister loved growing up. “When did your family move to the States?”
“We came to America when the US expanded immigration in the nineties, allowing Soviet Jews to come in. I was three years old.”
“That’s why your accent is barely noticeable,” he replied as he ran his thumb over her skin. He’d noticed earlier that her vowels were rounder than those of the typical Midwesterner, and there was something lilting in the way she spoke.
“I didn’t learn English until I went to kindergarten, so there are still some things I say that give me away.”
They entered the space that housed the Chagall windows and he immediately felt enveloped in a sea of sumptuous blue. The play of light reminded him of the many hundreds of dives he’d done all over the world. “Wow. I had no idea.”
Stazi squeezed his hand. “It never fails to take a bit of my breath away, no matter how often I see it. Did you know that the artist volunteered to make these specifically for the Art Institute? He had enjoyed a close relationship with the directors after they had shown his works twice, and when the public art movement happened in the seventies, he decided to contribute these as well as the Four Seasons mosaic located in the Chase Tower Plaza.”
“I hate to admit that I never noticed it when I’ve been in that building.”
“Well, the next time you’re there, take a minute and enjoy what Chagall created.”
“Perhaps I can talk you into taking me on a tour of the city and showing me all the masterpieces that I’ve overlooked.” They stepped in front of the first set of windows and he hoped like hell she would agree. Not only was his attraction to her physically off the charts, but she fascinated him as well. He’d never spent time with a woman who was so different from him, and apparently, it was exactly what he’d been waiting for. “Maybe we can go to dinner and then you can show me what I’ve been missing.”
“It would take at least a couple of weeks for me to show you everything. Chicago has an impressive number of public art installations.” She slipped her hand out of his and walked to the next set of windows. “Did you know that these celebrate both the city of Chicago and the Bicentennial?”
He ambled over and stood behind her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders as he took in the images. The familiar skyline was recognizable, along with several buildings. “I think a couple of weeks of dinners and walks around the city sounds perfect. Should we start tomorrow?”
When her head whipped around and she looked up with bewilderment, he grinned. “I think we should start right away. After all, as a…what’s your job again?”
Erupting in laughter, she shook her head and then answered. “I’m a conservator. Not a historian. I research, document, and try to prevent further damage to works of art. I’ve also worked as a restorer, which means that I clean and repair paintings.”
“Good enough for me,” he replied with a laugh.
“I could probably manage one dinner and that’s about it. I have a busy summer ahead of me and I don’t expect to have much free time.”
“I’ll take whatever you’ve got.” He crossed his arms and gave her the smile his mother always liked. “My art illiteracy has to be fixed and I think you’re the one to do it. Consider it a public service project.”
Stepping away again, she walked over to the last set of windows. “Maybe.”
The smile she gave him let him know the maybe she’d just thrown out could be turned into a yes, the moment he put some effort into it. “Let’s see the Chagall mosaic first. There’s a small Italian restaurant that’s not far from there and they have amazing risotto.”
“Are you talking about the Italian Village?”
“Yes, it’s the oldest Italian restaurant in the city. I may not know art, but I sure know food, and I’d like to take you to all of my favorite places.”
“Maybe,” she replied again.
Holding out his hand, he waited for her to walk in his direction. When she did and took his hand, he knew that all her maybes would soon be yeses. He lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to her fingers, and winked. “I can’t wait to get started.” When her eyes fluttered closed momentarily, he let out a breath and knew whatever was happening between them was mutual. “Can I give you a ride home?”
“I can call an Uber unless you live in Wicker Park.”
“I live over in Lincoln Park and I’d like to deliver you to your door.” Leaning down, he made sure she was looking at him. “It would give me peace of mind to know that you’re home safely.”
“Thank you. That’s very nice of you.”
Tucking her against his side, he led them out of the gallery and decided it was time to brush up on his art history. Because that last thing he wanted was for her to think he was a complete Neanderthal when they got together again.
This was a woman that he needed to impress, so he was going to do whatever it took. If that meant a crash course in art, then so be it. Looking down at her shiny hair made him realize that there wasn’t a thing he wouldn’t do to make her happy.
Including becoming interested in whatever turned her on.