Page 18 of Air of Seduction
Nothing we ever do is easy. I guess that’s why we have developed the ability to live and laugh in the middle of mayhem. Well, mostly. I haven’t laughed much the last couple of centuries. But perhaps there’s a woman upstairs who can help me change that.
Like he can somehow tell what I’m thinking, Lucas smirks at me. “So, how is Payton?”
“Sleeping.” I give him a blank look.
Lucas laughs. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Pasting a bland smile on my face, I force my body to relax. “I do. She’s attractive, and if she wants, I might give in to that attraction for a little while.”
Aidan lifts an eyebrow and gives me a one-sided grin. “Just a little while?”
My chest tightens at the thought of walking away from those beautiful eyes. “Yes, just a little while. I don’t want tobe tied down. Particularly to someone who can’t take care of themselves and might get themselves killed at any moment.”
My words come out harsher than I had intended, but they’re the truth. Love is painful, and I will never let myself love and lose again.
Chapter 11
Payton
I sit bolt upright, my eyes trying to focus on my surroundings. It takes me a few moments to remember where I am.
Ronan’s bedroom. He carried me here when I broke down in sobs. And then he held me until I fell asleep. It would have been romantic if I wasn’t so worried about Olivia.
Getting to my feet, I look around for my shoes. I find them neatly placed by the foot of the bed.
Lifting my gaze, I take another look around the room. Nothing is out of place. In fact there are hardly any personal items visible in the room at all. Whatever he owns must be in the large wardrobe built into the wall opposite the window, but I resist the urge to verify my conclusion.
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep, but judging by the light outside, it’s already late afternoon. Which means I’ve wasted precious time in my search for my best friend. I can only hope that Ronan has made some progress while I slept.
I make my way into the living room where I woke up on the couch this morning, but there’s no sign of Ronan. Or anyone else for that matter.
After just a moment of hesitation, I leave the suite and head down the corridor toward the stairs. This house is huge and from our excursion earlier, I now know it’s located in the middle of Mayfair. If Aidan really is the owner of this place, he must be extremely rich.
I wasn’t even aware there are private residences like this in this part of London. Apartments sure, but not entire houses. But then what do I know? The area I grew up in isn’t known for its wealth, and I don’t have any rich friends.
When I arrive in the first-floor foyer, I stop and turn in a slow circle. There’s no one around to ask, and I don’t really feel comfortable searching the various rooms to try to find Ronan. It feels too much like snooping around.
There’s one room I know, though, so I head in the direction of the dining room. But when I arrive, it turns out to be as empty as the rest of this place I’ve seen so far.
Biting my bottom lip, I let my eyes take in the details of the room. It’s beautiful, but what impresses me the most are the large paintings on the ceiling. It’s like something you would find in a cathedral. Except…is that Ronan?
I move until I’m directly below the image. It’s definitely Ronan, but he looks different. He’s got long hair falling in waves down to his chest, and the loose white shirt and dark-brown breeches looks like something a man might have worn centuries ago.
I cock my head to study him from a different angle. There’s a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. How old is he? He looks so at home, like he was alive back then and this is a real depiction of how he looked at the time.
“Do you like it?”
My whole body jerks violently, and I let out a scream. Then I spin to face the man who just snuck up on me and spoke next to my ear.
I take a couple of quick steps back when I don’t recognize him. He’s tall and wide like the other men in this house, so he might well be one of them, but he wasn’t at breakfast with us this morning.
The wide grin on his face disappears and is replaced by an apologetic look. “I’m sorry I scared you. It wasn’t my intention. I was just happy you seemed to enjoy my painting.”
Hispainting? My gaze automatically lifts to the ceiling again. Did he really paint that? Because if that’s the case, he must be a renowned artist. The level of detail is amazing.
“Can you find me up there?” There’s a smile in his voice. “I painted myself along with my brothers.”
I scan the large painting for someone looking like the man in front of me. Someone who looks like a younger version of Idris Elba. If I wasn’t already so taken by Ronan, I probably would have drooled over this guy.