Maybe because James felt the same way she did? That they had a connection beyond sex? Maybe, in the time they’d been together, he’d realized she was not the person he thought she was?
And maybe Dad will get paroled today and all the money he embezzled will suddenly reappear where it’s meant to be?
She chewed on her bottom lip. Why did she suddenly feel so…so…
James turned and looked at her from the kitchen, a mug of what she assumed was hot coffee in his hands. Their eyes met. His lips curled into a smile.
The knot in her stomach tightened. She’d fallen in love with him. Just like that. But they still both had so much baggage, so many things that needed to be said. Oh God, why hadn’t she put the brakes on this when he’d first made her smile? Why hadn’t she—
“I want to buy your drawing, goddess.”
Sienna swung her stare to Thomas, who once again was back in her studio. How had she not noticed that?
He stood in front of her drawing table, studying the artwork Zach had told her he’d offered to buy the previous night. Like James, he held a mug of coffee. She couldn’t help but wince. Of course, it would be a chipped mug. What else would the world’s most successful author drink from when at her place but an old, chipped mug she’d bought for fifty cents at a thrift shop?
“You do?” She cast his profile a curious look.
“I do. The dude over there’s sister tried to outbid me last night, but I want it more than her. So here I am.” He nodded, as if pleased with himself.
A small smile played with her lips. She gave James a glance, a rush of happiness flowing through her when their eyes met again. He winked. This time it wasn’t just happiness rushing through her, but something far more hot and physical.
Trying to temper the desire heating her blood, or at least ignore it until she and James were alone again, she turned back to Thomas. “So you’re not here to seduce me away from James?”
The American laughed. “No, goddess. I’m not. I think it’s fairly obvious that Mason over there has your heart, and you have his.”
“St. Clair,” James said from the kitchen, his voice blunt. “Stop.”
An icy pressure prickled over her body. Her scalp crawled. She stared at Thomas, her throat so tight she could barely draw breath. “What did you call him?”
Thomas frowned at James and then gave her a puzzled smile. “What did I call the dude? Mason?”
She nodded. Around her, the room became a furnace of suffocating air. “Yes. Mason. Why did you call him Mason?”
“Sienna,” James’s voice scraped at her sanity. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t look away from his friend. “You need to let me explain.”
“Why did you call him Mason?” She ignored him, her stare locked on Thomas. Her hands balled into fists at her side. Her stomach roiled. Oh God, she felt brittle. Like she was about to shatter into a million pieces.
Thomas frowned again. “That’s his name. Jamieson Xavier Aloysius Dyson. He never uses it, of course. Shit, with a mouthful like that, why would he, but that’s his full name. I’ve only ever called him Mason, although I don’t think anyone else does. In my opinion it suits him more than—”
Sienna spun toward James. Found him standing beside her, his expression unreadable. “Si,” he said, his voice as enigmatic and guarded as his face. “I need to explain. I need to—”
“You’re Mason Xavier?” She stared at him, her mouth dry. When had she swallowed the entire Simpson Desert? “You’re my mysterious benefactor?”
He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just studied her silently. Calmly.
She narrowed her eyes. An invisible vise wrapped her chest. “You’re the secretive venture capitalist commissioning all these paintings from me? Paintings of people fucking?”
“Si,” he said, his voice a deep rumble.
“Don’t Si me. You’re the man who’s been paying me to paint these erotic scenes? No wonder I’ve never seen them anywhere. What do you do with them when you get them? Burn them? Laugh at them, at me, and destroy them?”
He stepped toward her, shaking his head. “No. I’ve never destroyed any of them. They are too good to destroy. Sienna, you need to let me explain.”