Her gaze shifted down his body and his erection stirred. ‘You don’tlooktired.’
Alexei muffled a bark of laughter. She was right. He felt energised.
He should simply get up and leave her to rest, but that was beyond his powers. What he needed was a distraction. ‘How’s your hand?’ He angled it to inspect the bandage.
‘I can’t feel any pain.’
Alexei darted a glance at her. It would probably hurt later when the endorphins faded. It was a nasty gash. But then, he’d realised as he treated her, she’d had a few accidents in the past.
He slid his thumb over the fine skin at the back of her hand, seeing two tiny scars, faded now. And on the palm some rougher patches, as if it had seen work instead of simply lotions and manicures.
Alexei turned her hand over again, considering the supple strength in those slim fingers, the lack of jewellery, the short nails.
Why hadn’t he noticed? This wasn’t the hand of a pampered socialite.
‘What sort of art do you do?’
It was only because he held her that he noticed her flinch. It was momentary, so brief he almost thought he was mistaken. But now her hand was stiff, not relaxed. His curiosity deepened.
‘All sorts of things. Drawing, oils, sculpting, even some pottery.’
His sixth sense stirred. She was being evasive. Why?
‘Surely you specialise in one? Don’t successful artists focus their energies?’
* * *
Mina read the acuteness in Alexei’s gaze and wondered at his instinct for pinpointing vulnerability. It was as if he knew exactly what to ask to uncover the truth. Carissa was a successful graphic artist but Mina’s expertise and passion lay in sculpture.
No wonder he was such a successful businessman with that uncannily accurate instinct. Or was it a fluke? Was she overreacting?
In the distance she heard the furious rush of the storm. It echoed the abrupt warning clamour surging within her.
Mina told herself it was just as well she was no longer crammed up so close against him he might feel her response to his words. Even so she was still desperate for his caresses, for more of the glory they’d shared. That had challenged her preconceptions about him and made her wonder if Alexei was someone more than simply a demanding tycoon, used to getting his way.
Or was that her bias? The virgin fixating on the man who’d introduced her to sex? Because what she’d experienced with Alexei had felt almost transcendental, as if they’d achieved a union that was unique and precious.
Her thoughts were in turmoil, her emotions all over the place. She was in danger of letting feelings cloud her judgement. But, oh, how she wanted to bask in what Alexei made her feel!
‘Carissa?’
‘Sorry. Yes, artists do tend to specialise.’
What harm was there, telling him about her work? Remarkably, this was the man who hadn’t bothered to look at Carissa’s photo before bringing her here. If he wasn’t interested enough to do that, he wouldn’t have checked out her work.
It was a startling reminder that, despite the intimacy of the moment, they were still opponents in a dangerous game. That left a sour tang on Mina’s tongue and an ache in her middle.
It grew harder and harder to reconcile that imperious tycoon with the man lying naked beside her.
‘And your specialty?’
Mina hesitated, then took the plunge. She was finding some success but it wasn’t as if her work was well known. Soon, hopefully. ‘I sculpt.’
‘Nowit makes sense.’ His rueful smile made her heart hammer and warmth unfurl inside. It was as if they shared a private joke. Mina realised she wanted more of this. More of Alexei’s warmth and understanding.
‘Saving the sail sculpture? It’s a masterpiece. I couldn’t leave it.’
He nodded. ‘Of course not. I see that now.’ His tone held no rancour, just understanding. Why not? It was obvious the man loved sculpture too. The pieces scattered through his home were superb.