Dammit!”

There’s no way to dry the drop of sweat that’s just landed on the watercolor painting I’m working on, without ruining it, and now I’m going to have to start all over again.

I grab the washcloth I put in the freezer and hold it on the back of my neck, then drape it over my breasts, to try and cool off. I’ve been taking cold showers, but they never seem to work. And now that I’m meeting Gabriel in an hour, I want to at least look like I’m not in the process of melting.

Though, if you asked me to say which was hotter, my tiny apartment or my anger at Gabriel thinking he can just buy people? I think it might be my anger, though only by a very narrow margin.

Besides, as infuriating as he is, there’s a primal side of me that craves his attention and wants to preen in front of him. The idea of him between my legs makes me quiver and squirm with desire. Not to mention the money. Oh. My. God. That money will solve everything for me.

I kind hate myself for that, but what can you do?

I consider ignoring my phone when it buzzes, because it’s just out of reach and I don’t want to exert myself.

You ready for your date with prince charming?

Dammit. I never should have told Maggie that I’m actually going through this date thing with Gabriel. She mentions it every time we talk. Sure, it’s kinda impressive and cool, but I don’t think it should give him carte blanche to trample over everyone, just because he’s royal and because his family is obscenely wealthy.

Dreading it a little, to be honest. But…all that money! Italy!

Do it! And introduce me to his friends!

I laugh and toss my phone on my bed. If I don’t have this watercolor sketch more developed today, I’ll be further behind on this project and jeopardize my grant. The Foundation expects to see progress on this new series of paintings I’m working on, so I grab a new piece of paper and start over.

I would sell my soul to have even a small air conditioner. Technically, I have the money, especially with the tip I took from Gabriel, but I immediately put that in my savings account and earmarked it for Italy and the Accademia.

I ignore my phone until it beeps a third time. What does she want now?! But when I look at my phone, my mouth drops.

Gabriel wants to change our coffee meeting to a late lunch at a posh, members-only club downtown. I had a friend who worked there once and they told me about the ten-pound marble plates they sometimes served food on. Unreal food. Gorgeous décor. Stunning views of the city. All members rich as sin.

I glance at my unfinished painting, and then back at my phone. That club is certainly air conditioned and that alone is tempting right now, not to mention a free meal.

Yes, I can meet you there in an hour. My finger hesitates over the Send icon, but I quickly tap it before I chicken out. I may not like him, but he is sexy to look at. And the money. I really need the money.

“Oh, hello,” Gabriel’s voice says from behind me.

Damn. I wanted to head to the bathroom so I could touch up my hair and make sure my makeup hadn’t melted off of my face. It’s not like I wear a lot of makeup, but there was no way I was coming to see Gabriel unless I looked my absolute best…and that means makeup.

“Hi.”

I gasp when I turn and see him. He’s dressed in a beautiful royal blue silk suit. A couple light hairs curl over the top of his unbuttoned white shirt, and I really want to unbutton the rest of his shirt and run my hand over his chest. He’s obviously not spent his day in a sweltering four-hundred square foot studio.

Whoa. Sophie. Down girl!

“Have you been here before?” He gestures his arm toward the elevator banks of the Obsidian Tower and we walk in that direction.

“Ah, not really, no.” Certainly he wouldn’t be interested in the time I came here to sign up with a temp agency. This is the tallest building in Seattle and it’s mostly filled with vastly overpriced law firms, investment bankers, and well-funded tech startups. You don’t step foot in this skyscraper unless you are charging insane fees for your time or you have insane amounts of money to spend.

Gabriel takes a longer look at me, then shakes his head slightly. “Yeah, that makes sense. You’re an art student, right? It follows this isn’t a place you’d be familiar with.”

The elevator dings and he steps inside.

“Excuse me?” I freeze and glare at him. He may be sexy as hell, but I’m not going to stand for being insulted. My dignity isn’t up for sale.

He raises his hands quickly. “Look, I apologize. I didn’t mean to offend. I realized that an art student is unlikely to spend a lot of time in a corporate environment. Or maybe you have a second job?”

I glare at him, before grudgingly accepting his apology and following him into the elevator.

“No, I don’t. My life is art and working at the café. I don’t have time for anything else.”

I take a step away from Gabriel. This is seeming to be the bad idea I thought it was and I don’t care how sexy he is or that he’s a freaking prince, I will not tolerate being insulted!

“Look. I really do apologize. I have a healthy respect for the arts. In fact, the arts are why I’m in town. I’m not just here because I’m attending the gala, I’m here because my family is donating The Fugue to the museum.”

My mouth falls open. “The Fugue? Are you joking? Please tell me you’re not joking. Can I have a private viewing?”

“Of course. That’s easily arranged. We can see it after lunch, if you like. It’s just over at the penthouse.” He gives me a big smile and I nearly faint.

“Oh my God, thank you!” Before I realize what I’m doing, I’m rushing at Gabriel and giving him an enormous hug. He hugs me back and pulls me closer to his body. When his groin presses against me, I swear I feel his cock hard and pressing against me.

“Oh, sorry about that.” My cheeks burn with a blush and I keep stepping backwards until I reach the opposite wall of the mirrored elevator.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he says, coughing and looking away as the elevator doors open. “After you,” he gestures.

We ride up in the elevator in silence, then walk into the foyer of the most beautiful dining room I’ve ever seen. The room isn’t garishly lavish, but linen tablecloths, live piano music, and the gentle murmur of conversations in here screams money.

“Good afternoon, your highness. Your usual room is ready. If you’ll just follow me.” The maître d’ turns and leads us through a packed dining room filled with powerful local politicians, athletes, and the controversial founder of a local tech company. The amount of wealth in this room makes me dizzy. One day I’ll have money like this. I hope.

I feel like a total fool in my pink dress – more than a few people are looking at me and I can see their mouths twitching with unlaughed laughs. I thought this was so pretty and classy, but everyone here is dressed in dark colors and the women are pushing around lettuce on their plates, like they don’t ever eat. I feel like a chubby tropical bird that’s flown into a black and white film.

We enter a private dining room and I clench my jaw to prevent it from falling open. Two of the walls are floor-to-ceiling windows, with an unparalleled view of the city. A small square table is nestled in a corner, with a centerpiece of exotic flowers.

This is fancier than anything I’ve ever experienced…and this is just lunch.

“Did you enjoy your meal?” Gabriel passes his linen napkin carefully over his lips, even though there isn’t a trace of food on them.

“It was wonderful, thank you.” After an hour over lunch, my perception of Gabriel is changing. Aside from the wealthy royal thing, he seems pretty normal. I’m not sure I like him, but I don’t loathe him as much as I did when we met.

Truth be told, this lunch was the best meal I’ve had all year. Most of what I make at home is either frozen or purchased deeply on sale. It’s hard not to resent that Gabriel eats here often enough to have the staff know him and to have a private, luxurious dining room at his beck and call. There weren’t prices on the menu, but I’m guessing this meal cost more than the $300 I made last week at the coffee shop.

“Excellent. Now, would you like to see the painting?”

“Oh, yes, please!” Even though Gabriel is being polite and nice, I’m not sure I actually like him. Still, I’m absolutely not going to pass up a chance to see The Fugue up close and personal, just like I’m not going to pass up a chance to earn an easy hundred grand.

“This is breathtaking,” I mumble, leaning even closer to the painting, so that I can examine the brush strokes.

“It’s been in the family since Grappanzo painted it.”

Gabriel’s voice almost sounds bored as he describes the most beautiful painting I’ve ever seen.

“I’ve only ever seen pictures of this. I knew it was in a private collection, but I never found out which one.”

“Yes, we try to keep parts of our lives private. It’s not easy, being under a microscope all the time.”

I glance at Gabriel, wondering if he’s being disingenuous with me. Yet the look on his face is as if he’s revealed too much, like I caught him off guard. Interesting.

“I can only–”

My foot slips on the highly polished wood floor and suddenly I’m falling toward the painting. I reach out to try and grab something, anything, to stop me from destroying a priceless work of art, but it’s Gabriel who grabs me and pulls me up.

“I’m so, so sorry,” I exclaim, my voice coming out in a trembling rush. “If you hadn’t been here…”

“But I am here,” Gabriel says, his arms still holding me now that I’m standing upright again. “And so are you.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel releases one arm from around my waist and spins me around so that I’m facing him. I look up into his blue eyes and my heart just stops. Up close, he’s more handsome. His hand gently pushes my hair back from my face, his finger tracing my skin from behind my ear and down the side of my neck. I shiver under his touch, my desire skyrocketing.

He’s the enemy, I try to remind myself. No one as rich and handsome as Gabriel de Montmorency is worth my time. There’s no way I want to be another notch on his bed post. I’ve read about his exploits for years – he’s not the relationship type…and I’m not the one-night-stand type.

“You are–”

“I’m fine, thank you.” It’s not easy, especially with his full lips in front of my face, his mouth slightly parted, but I pull myself out of his arms.

Gabriel’s face clouds and he steps away, turning and walking across the massive living room. I watch his long, lean legs and curse myself for ending that moment. Because that was most definitely a moment. Yet there’s no way I could live with myself if I slept with him.

“Right. So, to prepare for the gala. Do you know how to waltz?”

I walk closer to him and sit down on the edge of a large sofa.

“Not really, no. We did some dance classes in school, and waltz was one of them, but I wouldn’t say I’m particularly experienced with it.”

“Then we need to fix that. There will be dancing at the gala and it will not do if you are not able to dance.” Gabriel pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen a few times, then drops it back in his pocket. “My assistant will arrange some private lessons for us, and they will contact you with the details.”

“Okay.” The atmosphere between us is changed, charged in a weird way. I may not be sure if I like him, but I liked him a lot better when he was being polite and friendly. Now, he seems cold and distant.

“Well, then. I must apologize, but I need to cut our meeting short. I will see you soon, for the dance class.”

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

I guess this is what it feels like to be dismissed.