Page 78 of What a Lord Wants

Sally finally closed the robe and cinched the tie around her waist.Thank God. He could feel the tension pulsating between the two women with every uncomfortable heartbeat.

He gestured for Jacopo to take Sally aside. But she refused to move, except to trail her gaze over Eve. “And who are you?”

“His previous model.”

Not his wife. But of course, she wouldn’t introduce herself that way. Not here, where he was still Vincenzo. Yet her answer inexplicably cut him to the quick and reminded him of how important this new painting was, how it needed to be finished on time.

Eve arched a brow. “He promised to makemeimmortal.”

Sally’s confidence withered. “Did he…make you immortal?”

“In every way,” she answered.

Dom had the peculiar feeling that she meant far more than just the painting, although for the life of him he couldn’t have said what.

Her gaze swung to him, with a haunted expression that took his breath away. “I would like to speak with you please. Now.”

Cold unease slithered through him. “All right. Let’s go upstairs, shall we?” As he led Eve toward the stairs, he grimaced at Jacopo and jerked his head toward Sally as he warned, “Non toccarla.”

The last thing he needed was for Jacopo to seduce Sally. Or more likely vice-versa. That would bring a whole new set of complications. Although he wouldn’t be surprised if just that happened. Nothing related to this painting was going well. Eve’s arrival only punctuated that.

He led her upstairs, not to the bedroom where they’d spent their wedding night but purposefully to the other room beside it. His frustration over the painting and with himself was mounting, and he was behind schedule. The last thing he needed this afternoon were distractions. Or a reminder of how wonderful it was to make love to Eve, not when he was trying to create a painting to convince the world that Sally was the most alluring woman ever created. And failing miserably.

“She’s very pretty,” Eve commented when he shut the door so that they could speak in private. But she remained apart from him, not coming to kiss him in greeting as she usually did. “Not at all hesitant to pose for you.”

He grimaced. Sally had stripped out of her clothes and practically sat herself on his lap the day he’d interviewed her. “That’s not necessarily a good thing.”

“I would think it would be a grand trait in a nude model.”

He didn’t need this argument. Not today. “Not when the artist wants a model to project innocence.”

“She wants to bed you, you know.” There was no anger behind that. Simply a quiet statement of fact.

“She wants the fame and fortune she thinks I’ll bring her,” he corrected in a careful dodge. He couldn’t deny it without sounding like an idiot, especially since she’d overheard the blatant offer Sally had made. One of many she’d been making for the past two months. Not one of which he was interested in accepting.

“She wants more than that.”

Christ.He ran his fingers through his hair in an effort to dispel the frustration and aggravation pounding inside him. Theworstpossible timing for Eve to appear and—

“Is she a good model?”

He approached her and cupped her face in his hands, to give her a lingering kiss of reassurance. “No one could ever be as good as you,mia bella.”

“Not even Elena?”

He froze, for a moment unable to do anything but absorb the jolting thud of each stunned heartbeat.

Then slowly, he shifted back from her, to search her face. “How do you know about Elena?”

“I was approached by Constance Devereaux in the park. She mentioned her.”

Worry flashed through him. “Are you all right? Did she threaten you?”

Shaking her head, she stepped away from him and out of his reach. The distance between them felt like miles. “Who is Elena?”

“A former model, from a long time ago.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “She was more than just that.”