Читать книгу Blood Calls - Caridad Pineiro - Страница 11

Chapter 5

Ramona had already prepared for a few openings in her short career as an artist, and they always filled her with excitement. This visit to the gallery to check things out was no different and possibly even more compelling, since it would likely be her last.

The gallery was closed to the public in anticipation of the showing, which was now only two nights away. She was anxious to see how Diego had placed her paintings and decorated the space, since he always seemed to find just the right way to highlight the chosen works.

She was filled with trepidation at one other thing she planned to do that night—ask Diego for the phone number of one of the buyers from the van Winter auction. She knew he had it because the woman in question was a frequent visitor to his gallery and had, in fact, bought one of Ramona’s earlier works.

Although Ramona didn’t plan on calling the woman right away, she hoped that letting van Winter know that she was in possession of the number would spur him to see her and answer some of her questions. She didn’t want to consider what she would do if he ignored her request.

The buyer might consent to speak with her, but then what? The woman would likely think Ramona crazy if she accused van Winter of putting a forgery up for sale. Worse, the accusations would impact on Diego, and that was the last thing she wanted to happen.

Diego had been too good to her, and she didn’t want to hurt him in any way.

Slowly she climbed the three short steps to the exclusive Soho gallery. A rich satin drape with a fanciful crest and Diego’s name blocked the main display window. She rapped on the glass door with her knuckle and a light snapped on in one of the back rooms. A second later, Diego strolled out.

He was dressed casually in black jeans and a charcoal-gray sweater that seemed painted to his body. Seeing her at the door, he rushed to open it.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long.” He took her hand and noticed the cold once again, much like a few nights before.

“Not long.” She eased her hand from his and rubbed it self-consciously as she stepped into the gallery and looked around, clearly eager to see how he had prepared for the showing.

Diego did not plan on rushing the surprise. “Let’s get you comfortable.” He slipped his hands to her shoulders and eased off her coat, tossing it on a chair. Then he walked to a long table set in the anteroom, where a lone bottle of wine sat beside two glasses. “At the show we’ll have some refreshments here before we direct everyone inside to the main displays,” he explained.

Ramona flicked a finger in the direction of the central exhibit area of the gallery. “When can I see?”

Diego chuckled, approached her and cupped her cheek. “Some things shouldn’t be rushed, little one,” he teased, determined to make everything perfect for her. He ignored the voice in his head that said becoming personally involved with her was a mistake.

For starters, she was human. And beautiful. A definite strike against her. The last beautiful woman he had become involved with had betrayed him and cost him his mortal life. He knew little about Ramona, but he had seen the shadows of secrets in her eyes.

The yearning in the paintings, however, and the possibility that he had produced such hunger, overrode common sense and caution.