Laine looked at it. It depicted a stream of butterflies being poured out of a teakettle by a woman with a sly look on her face. It was her own work. She’d painted that one back in design school when she’d been fulfilling her skill-based core requirements. If she were honest, she kept the painting there not because it was her favorite, but because it reminded her of that long ignored ache. She’d always meant to continue the series, but there was no money in painting one’s feelings. As hard as it was to work her way up in interior design, being a freelance painter would have been a fiscal disaster. There would be no supporting her father with that kind of income, no future for herself, possibly no recognition for her efforts until after her death, or ever.
There was no reason to go for it, and every reason to keep that dream on the wall.
“As curious as the subject is, it is almost like a dream. The colors bring the room peace,” Aziz assessed. “It’s a good energy for a place of rest.” He looked to her. “Or other things.”
“Did we manage to do that in the actual bed?” Laine asked.
“No, I don’t think so. We should rectify this egregious error.”
Swiftly, Aziz rose and grabbed her waist. Laine laughed and reached up for his shoulders to steady herself. His tongue was lapping broadly over her neck when Laine heard the door slamming shut and froze.
“Oh! Stop!” she hissed.
Aziz did, but frowned and looked up.
“Wake up, nerd!” Emma cried. “I know you ended up here last night!”
“It’s my sister,” Laine told Aziz.
She pulled the covers up and looked around the room quickly to see if she had any readily available clothing. There was one of Aziz’s shirts on a chair, but nothing else of use.
“I’m in the bedroom! Give me a minute!” Laine yelled.
“I’m coming in!” Emma yelled back.
Aziz laughed heartily.
“No, don’t!” Laine glared at Emma as she walked through the door, carrying a white bag and a tray of coffee.
Emma’s mouth hung open as she took in the unfamiliar sight. “What…?”
“I told you to give me a minute, brat!” Laine said.
Emma giggled madly. “Well, maybe you need more than a minute!”
“Good morning,” Aziz said pleasantly. “You are Laine’s sister, yes?”
“I am…” Emma half-turned to the door, then looked at the corners of the ceiling.
“What are you doing?” Laine said, clutching the covers.
“Looking for hidden cameras,” Emma deadpanned.
“I don’t do videos of my lovemaking,” Aziz said. “It would be unseemly for a member of my family to have such a thing out there for people to see.”
Laine covered her face.
“I brought coffee and doughnuts, FYI,” Emma said. “I thought I might be able to get some info out of you about that guy you were dancing with last night. But I suppose that would be you?”
Aziz gave a little wave.
“Just let us put some clothes on?” Laine pleaded, making a shooing motion. “You can wait in the kitchen.”
“Fine, fine. But now you really have to dish. No way in the world was I expecting you to actually take the guy home.” Emma looked to Aziz. “No offense.”
“None taken, I think,” he said.
After quickly pulling on some clothes, Laine emerged from the bedroom. Her sister was lounging in the kitchenette, where there were a few comfortable chairs and a table overburdened with unopened mail and stacks of file folders. Emma sipped her coffee, reading something off her phone. Despite the early hour, her hair was neatly styled, her makeup flawless, and her outfit on point.
“Does your personal assistant dress you every morning?” Laine went over to sit with her sister. Aziz followed her, but did not sit.
“No, I just know that people are waiting to take pictures of me at any moment.” Emma’s lips curved knowingly. “But my picture isn’t the one going viral right now.”
Emma turned her phone around so Laine could see what she was watching. It was a video of Aziz and Laine dancing at the party. Laine pressed her lips together and started to turn red.
Aziz leaned over her. “Ah…someone caught us.”
“What, were you hiding? You hijacked the music and hit the dance floor at a star-studded event.” Emma laughed. “There were a lotta folks pissed, to be honest. They were so jealous they didn’t think to do it themselves.”
“We aren’t bad!” Aziz stood up and laughed.
“No kidding. Do I know you? Have you worked with Raj?” Emma asked.
Aziz crossed his arms and smiled down at her. “I am not an actor, darling. I manage my family’s considerable estate and business holdings.”