Collect nudes

Vauxmoor's Bar & Grill was trendy but not boisterous to the point where we had to shout to talk. I mostly just enjoyed my view anyway. Seated over his plate of steak, Ethan was the picture of polite English gentleman. One supremely hot English gentleman. Gone was the heat and promise of sweaty sex we'd shared at the elevators. He'd turned that off just as quickly as he'd turned me on.

"How did an American find herself at university so far from home?"

I picked at my steak salad and went for a sip of cider instead. "I ..... .. I struggled for a bit after high school", I closed my eyes for a moment after responding. "I was a mess actually, for a lot of reasons." Taking a breath to calm the nervousness that appeared whenever I had to answer this question, I said, "But with some help to focus my attentions, I discovered an interest in art. I applied to come here and by some miracle got accepted at U of L. And my parents were so thrilled to see me motivated they sent me off with hearty blessings. I have a great-aunt-at Waltham Forest. My aunt Marie, but other than her, I am on my own here."

"But you are taking a graduate degree now?" Ethan seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing here, so I kept talking.

"Well, when I finished my undergraduate in art history, I decided to apply for advanced study in conservancy. They accepted me a second time." I stabbed a piece of steak with my fork.

"Any regrets? You seemed a little melancholy there when you were talking." Ethan's voice was soft when he wanted it to be.

I looked at his mouth and thought about what it had felt like crushed against mine, forcing me to accept his kiss.

"About coming to London?" I shook my head at him. "Never. I love living here. In fact, I will be devastated if I don't get a work visa when I finish my master's degree. I consider London my home now."

He smiled at me. You're too damn beautiful for your own good, Ethan Blackstone.

"You do fit in here... very well. So well, in fact, I wouldn't have known you weren't native until you spoke, but even then, American twang and all, you blend right in."

"A twang, huh?"

"It's a very nice twang, Miss Bennett." He grinned across the table, his blues twinkling.

"So, what about you? How did Ethan Blackstone end up as CEO of Black- stone Security International, Ltd.?"

Still dressed for work in a fine dark gray suit that definitely cost more than my rent, he took a drink of his beer and licked the corner of his mouth.

"What's your story, Ethan? And you have a drawl, by the way, as opposed to a twang." I smirked at him. One sexy eyebrow perked up. "I am the younger of two children. It was just my dad growing up for my sister and me. He drove a London cab and took me with him when I didn't have school."

"That's why you didn't need directions to find my flat," I said. "And I've heard about the test the London cabbies have to take on all the streets. It's gar- gantuan."

He smiled at me again. "That would be The Knowledge. Very good, Miss Bennett. For an American you are quite up on your cultural facts of Britain."

I shrugged. "I saw a show about it. Was pretty funny actually." Realizing I'd distracted him from the conversation, I said, "Sorry for interrupting. So what did you do after you finished school?"

"I went into military training. Did that for six years. Left. Started my company with the help of contacts I'd made while enlisted." He looked at me longingly again, seeming to have no inclination to keep talking.

"What branch of the military?" "Special Forces, mostly reconnaissance." He didn't offer any more details, but he grinned at me. "You are not very forthcoming. Mr. Blackstone."

"If I tell you any more, I'd have to kill you, and that would just blow my promise all to shit."

"What promise?" I asked innocently.

"That I'm not a serial killer," he said as he popped a piece of steak into his beautiful mouth and started chewing. "Thank the gods! The idea of eating a plate of beef with a serial killer would have totally killed this date for me." He swallowed his meat and grinned at me. "Very funny, Miss Bennett. You are a wit."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Blackstone, I try very hard to be." He disarmed me with his charm so effortlessly that I really had to work to keep him on task. Ethan could turn a conversation to his advantage in an instant. "What do you do at your company?"

"Security mostly, for the British government and some private international patrons. Right now we are swamped with the Olympics. With so many people coming from all over into London-especially in our post-nine-eleven world—it's a challenge."

"I bet."

He pointed at my salad with his knife. "I bring you to the best place in town for a Mayfair steak, and what do you do?" He shook his head at me. "You order a salad."

I laughed. "It has some steak in it. Anyway, I can't help it. I don't like to be predictable." "Well you're very good at being unpredictable, Miss Bennett." He winked at me and took another bite of his steak.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Ethan?"

"I get the feeling you're about to," he said dryly.

I sincerely wanted to know. The idea had been forming in my head for a couple days now. "So, do you...... do you collect nudes... or something?" I looked down at my plate.

"No," he answered immediately, "I was working security for the Andersen gallery that night. There were a few high-profile guests, and I merely went to make an appearance. I have employees who do the actual on-site work." He paused. "But I'm very glad I attended, because I saw your portrait." His voice sounded amused. "I wanted it, so I bought it.”

I could feel his eyes calling to me to look at him. I lifted my eyes up. "And then you walked in, Brynne."

"Oh..."

"I heard what you and Clarkson said, by the way about me and my hand." He tapped his ear. "High-tech security gadgets in my line of work."

My fork dropped with a clang, and I must have jumped a foot. He smirked and looked smug, and far too sexy to be here with me. I was so mortified I wanted to run out the door. "I am so sorry you heard.....”