“One of those women is here with her husband, who I doubt knows she hired me. The other is here with someone else like me.” There was an edge to the last two words. “Neither one will say a word, and they can't very well look down on you because they were in your same position.” His mouth curved into a humorless smile. “Or a variety of other positions.”

An awkward silence fell between us as he led me into the gallery. We passed a waiter with a tray of champagne glasses and each took one. I drank half of mine at once and a glance at Cade told me he'd drained his and taken another. All of the positive anticipation I'd felt going into this evening had faded. I knew what I'd said had been horrible, no matter how I felt. And that itself was wrong too. How could I look down on Cade for what he did for a living? Was I really so awful of a person that I'd judge someone like him when I was the one paying for his services?

We stopped at the far end of the gallery. Most everyone else was crowded up front and the way the space was set up, we were hidden between a large sculpture and a wall that held a pair of paintings on either side. I turned to face Cade, but he kept his eyes on the painting behind me. I reached up and put my hands on his face, turning his head until he was looking down at me. I surprised myself with my boldness, but it was something that had to be done. He'd never done anything to hurt me and I'd treated him like shit. He didn't deserve it. He was a good man, no matter what he did to make money.

“I'm sorry,” I said. “It's how I was raised, and that's not an excuse. It's just sometimes hard to shake off your childhood, you know?”

He nodded. “I know.” His arms slid around my waist and my hands shifted to behind his neck. “And I'm used to the comments.”

“That doesn't mean what I said was right.” I pulled myself closer to him, feeling the heat from his body against mine. “I really am sorry.”

“Thank you for apologizing. No one's ever apologized before.” He bent his head and pressed his lips against mine.

It was a simple kiss, a chaste one, but I felt the warmth from it straight down to my toes. Then he released me and took a step back. His hand reached for mine and he laced our fingers together. He turned his attention back to the painting and gestured at it, drawing my attention to it as well.

“Alejandro told me about this piece. It's his favorite. Autumn Sunrise.”

“Wow,” I breathed. It was beautiful landscape, not one of those abstract paintings I never really understood.

“I understand why he likes it so much,” Cade continued. “The artist managed to capture the juxtaposition between the beauty of the dying world at autumn and the new beginnings found at the start of the day.”

I looked up at him, puzzled. “Okay, I have to ask. What are we doing here? I thought you were supposed to teach me about... you know.” I glanced around to see if anyone was close enough to hear us. “Sex.”

“Aubree, if you can't say the word, you shouldn't be doing it.” His tone was mild. “That actually goes for pretty much anything when it comes to sex.” He gave me a sideways look, something wicked glinting in his eyes. “If you can't ask me to fuck you or tell me you want me to spank you...”

“Cade!” I hissed, yanking my hand away from his. “We're in public.”

He laughed. “Relax. No one's around.” He took my hand again.

I scowled at him. “So why are we here then?” I went back to my original question.

“Part of your lesson is appreciating beauty.”

“I appreciate beauty,” I snapped. I didn't like how smug he sounded when he said it, like we were in some twisted, NC-17 version of My Fair Lady.

He led me around the wall to stand next to a sculpture. “What do you see when you look at this?”

I studied the figure in front of me. It was a man and a woman, carved from stone that I assumed was marble. She was nude, her hands partially covering her breasts, her legs twisted just right to still be considered modest. The man was also nude, but his hands were on her shoulders, his legs planted shoulder width apart so that everything was exposed.

“I'm not a prude when it comes to art, Cade,” I said.

He pulled me in front of him, standing close enough to speak directly into my ear. “Look at them, Aubree. When you see something like this, do you just see line and symmetry? Can you only appreciate that it's well-formed, with graceful curves?” His voice slid across my skin, caressing it. “Can't you feel the desire between the man and his lover? How she wants him, but is holding back? The beauty of a piece like this, of any piece, isn't merely in what you see, but in the story it tells.”

There was a passion in his voice that told me he wasn't just reciting things he'd read in a book or he'd overheard other people saying. And it wasn't just from a viewer standpoint either. I understood the difference. I taught literature. I loved literature. I could speak passionately about the subject, but I'd heard authors speak on the same subjects and there was a difference in their tone. Something very similar to what I was hearing from Cade right now.

“This isn't just about seeing art, is it?” I turned, feeling a pang of disappointment when he took a step back so that we were half a foot apart. I ignored the feeling and pressed the issue. “Are you an artist?”

The corners of Cade's mouth tightened.

“You are,” I said. “Can I see some of your work?”

He was shaking his head before I finished asking the question. “I'm not an artist. I dabble. That's it.”

“But you have finished pieces, don't you?”

His eyes were hard as he looked down at me. “That's not why I brought you here. This is a lesson in beauty. Part of what you're paying me for.”

This time, I was the one who reached for his hand. I knew it wasn't a good idea to pry into his personal life, but I knew so little about this man with whom I was sharing so much of myself. “If this is about beauty, then show me what you find beautiful. Let me see the world through your eyes.”

He held my gaze until I wanted to look away, but I didn't. He was searching for something in my face and I would remain steady until he found whatever he was looking for. After what seemed like forever, he nodded.

“All right. Come with me.”

Chapter 8

He asked the driver for the keys to the town car and gave the man what had to have been a huge tip, and then he acted like I was the crazy one for asking where we were going. I'd never seen someone leave their driver standing on the sidewalk. Then again, I wasn't exactly accustomed to having a driver, so maybe it was something rich people did when they got bored.

“Why didn't you just have him drive us?” I asked as he changed lanes.

“Because there's a slight chance that leaving this car unattended will result in it being stolen.”

I gave him a sharp look, expecting him to laugh at the joke, but then I recognized some of the signs along the road. He wasn't kidding. We were heading into a not-so-good section of the city. It wasn't quite the kind of neighborhood where I'd be scared to walk by myself during the day, but at night, I'd be extra cautious and have my pepper spray ready. More vandalism and theft occurred around here than violent crimes against people, but it still wasn't a great place to live.

Why was Cade taking me here? I'd asked to see his work. This couldn't be where he lived. Even I made enough money to stay out of this neighborhood, and that was saying something. He had to live in a better part of the city.

We parked in front of what looked like some sort of abandoned warehouse. The bottom floor was boarded up and the front covered with graffiti and grime. He looked over at me, a half-smile on his face.

“You might not want to leave anything in the car. The insurance will cover it if it's gone when we come out, but it's a hassle.” He got out of the car and walked around to open my door. His hand tightened around mine as he led me to a set of stairs at the side of the building. As we started up them, he spoke again. “It's not really dangerous here, but a sweet ride like that is a temptation few can resist.”