With a raised eyebrow, she turned away from me to stare at the painting. As much as my hands buzzed to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back into my room to have my way with her, I lowered my gaze to her tight little ass that could easily make any man fall to their knees for her.
It took moments for my senses to come back to reality. Syn was hardly the first woman to have caught my attention, so what was it about her that fascinated me? I had my fun with females, took what I wanted, and walked away. But this girl lingered on my mind, and her scent flooded my nostrils.
I followed her gaze to the portrait of the distraught, naked woman leaning back against a rock. The woman in the painting was covering her face with her arms as though she was crying, her flowing red hair billowing in the wind.
The contrast of the solemn image with that of Syn naked was clashing terribly in my head.
I tried to push those thoughts aside, at least for now, and said, “The name of the piece and artist are unknown, yet it’s one of my favorites,” I explained, and I looked at the way she studied the portrait, nibbling on her lower lips. She was truly savoring the painting, which I didn’t expect. “When I look at it, I see a fallen woman who has reached her lowest point. Her devastation is tragic and beautifully captured.”
“She seems to have lost something.”
“To me, this painting is inspirational. When she rises again, she will be fierce. Nothing can stop her because when you have nothing to lose, you are untouchable.”
Syn twisted her head toward me. “That’s very deep, and I like it.”
“Me too.” Without another word, I placed my hand at her back and guided her right into the kitchen. I was hopeful that once I showed her around, we might end up in one of the many spare bedrooms and I’d show her the real meaning of flirting.
Staff rushed about in the kitchen, washing, collecting supplies from storage, and prepping for tonight’s meals.
I moved over to the fridge, opened it, and grabbed a bottle of water, then turned to Syn. Just as I did, Hendrix strolled into the kitchen, and most of the staff made a hasty exit through the rear door.
He only had eyes for Syn though, but when his mouth opened, it wasn’t his voice that streamed across the room.
It was River’s as he marched in on Hendrix’s heels, booming, “Who the fuck is she?”