Prickling heat razed her cheeks. “That’s not why I was kissing him.”
Zach cocked an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”
She scrunched up her face. “No. It isn’t. I was kissing him because…” She trailed off. How did she finish the sentence?
“Yeah, you told me. Because it’s complicated.” His expression grew tormented. “So you weren’t just making out with him because he’s rich?”
A knot twisted in her stomach at the disturbing question. A bleak thought dawned on her. “Zach, what did Dad tell you about me? About why I…left our family?”
Zach shrugged. “He said you didn’t like my mum. My mum said you didn’t like that we were going to get some of your inheritance.”
Hot anger razed over her fragile calm. No wonder he despised her with misinformation like that. She dug her nails into the tops of her thighs, cursing their father. If he were in the room with her right now, she’d hit him. Hard.
“Oh, Zach, that’s not why I left. Take a look at my existence. Do you really think I care about an inheritance? When you came along, I was excited about having a brother. It’s true I didn’t like that Dad dumped my mum for yours. That hurt a lot, but I was never angry with you or your mum. I was angry with Dad. I left home because I couldn’t deal with the excesses anymore. The superficial people Dad surrounded himself with, the wild parties where people did things and took things that…”
A shudder rocked her at the memory of some of the things she’d been exposed to at those parties. Her stomach roiled at some of the propositions made to her by some of the guests. She could all too easily recall one of her father’s business associates suggesting she go with him somewhere quiet. She’d been eighteen at the time. He’d been over fifty.
Turning her gaze on the living area of her converted warehouse, she waved an arm at the collection of second-hand furniture paid for with her own hard-earned money. “I’m good with a Spartan existence.” Better not to tell him about the parties and guests. “I need little more than simple food and art supplies and I’m happy. Content. When you moved in, all I wanted was for you to like me. I really wanted my brother to be my friend as well.” She rolled her eyes. “Geez, I sound lame.”
Zach huffed. A small smile pulled at the edges of his lips. “I do like you. I just don’t…get you.”
Warmth flowed through her at his mumbled confession. Nudging him with her shoulder, she smiled in return. “We just need time, is all. And now we know more about each other…well, maybe you’ll start to get me. At least you know now money doesn’t interest me much.”
He chuckled. And then frowned. “So you were kissing James Dyson because… And please don’t say ‘it’s complicated’ again. I really hate being spoken to like I’m a kid, ya know.”
Sienna nodded. “I get that. And I’m sorry. Honest. I won’t do it again.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared across the living area to the studio space of the warehouse. “Sometimes people are drawn to each other. You may not like that person, but you can’t stop thinking about them.”
Zach shifted on the sofa beside her. “Is that what’s going on with you two?”
“I think so. He knows someone very important to me, and that someone has asked me to paint his portrait.”
“How does he know who’s important to you? No offense, but since I’ve been living with you, there have only been two people come here. James Dyson and Carrie. Does Carrie know him?”
Sienna shook her head. “All the paintings I’ve been working on since you arrived have been for a man called Mason Xavier. He’s my benefactor. He commissions artwork and pays me when I finish them. If it wasn’t for Xavier, I’m not sure where my art career would be.” She gnawed on her bottom lip some more. “However, it does seem since he came into my life, no one else is interested in my paintings.”
“And Mason Xavier wants you to paint James Dyson?”
At Zach’s question, her belly tightened. “Apparently, it was a birthday present. He’s paying me good money to do it. And Dyson agreed this morning to let me enter the portrait into the Barton Art Prize, which is major exposure. Major. If the painting wins, I’ll be able to pay for a new vi—” She stopped, not wanting to mention the violin. It was so wonderful to be able to talk to Zach without fear of sarcasm and snide comments.