realization hit. She wasn’t the only one struggling here. “You want Lilah.”
The grim anger she had glimpsed winked out of existence. “If I was in the market for marriage, maybe.”
“Which, I take it, you’re not.”
Zane’s dark gaze zeroed in on hers, but Carla realized he still barely logged her presence. “No. Are you interested in art?”
Carla blinked at the sudden change of subject. “Yes.”
“If you want out of this wind, I’ll be happy to show you the rogue’s gallery.”
She had glimpsed the broad gallery that housed the Atraeus family portraits, some painted by acknowledged masters, but hadn’t had time to view them. “I would love to take a closer look at the family portraits.”
Anything to get her off the balcony. “Just do me one favor. Put your arm around my waist.”
“And make it look good?”
Carla’s chin jerked up a fraction. “If you don’t mind.”
The unflattering lack of reaction to her suggestion should have rubbed salt into the wound, but Carla was beyond caring. She was dying by inches but she was determined not to be any more tragic than she had to be.
Lucas’s gaze burned over her as she handed her drink to a waiter then allowed Zane’s arm to settle around her waist. As they strolled past Lucas, she was forcibly struck by the notion that he was jealous.
Confusion rocked her. She hadn’t consciously set out to make Lucas jealous; her main concern from the moment she had realized that Lucas and Lilah were together had been self-preservation. Lucas being jealous made no sense unless he still wanted her, and how could that be when he had already chosen another woman?
Carla was relieved when Zane dropped his arm the second they were out of sight of the balcony. After a short walk through flagged corridors, they entered the gallery. Along one wall, arched windows provided spectacular views of the moonlit sea. The opposite wall was softly lit and lined with exquisite paintings.
The tingling sense of alarm, as if at some level she was aware of Lucas’s displeasure, continued as they strolled past rank after rank of gorgeous rich oils. Most had been painted pre-1900s, before the once wealthy and noble Atraeus family had fallen on hard times. Lucas’s grandfather, after discovering an obscenely rich gold mine, had since purchased most of the paintings back from private collections and museums.
The men were clearly of the Atraeus bloodline, with strong jaws and aquiline profiles. The women, almost without exception, looked like Botticelli angels: beautiful, demure, virginal.
Zane paused beside a vibrant painting of an Atraeus ancestor who looked more like a pirate than a noble lord. His lady was a serene, quiet dove with a steely glint in her eye. With her long, slanting eyes and delicate bones, the woman bore an uncanny resemblance to Lilah. “As you can see it’s a mixture of sinners and saints. It seemed that the more dissolute and marauding the Atraeus male, the more powerful his desire for a saint.”
Carla heard the measured tread of footsteps. Her heart sped up because she was almost sure it was Lucas. “And is that what Atraeus men are searching for today?”
Zane shrugged. “I can’t speak for my brothers. I’m not your typical Atraeus male.”
Her jaw tightened. “But the idea of a pure, untouched bride still has a certain appeal.”
“Maybe.” He sent her a flashing grin that made him look startlingly like the Atraeus pirate in the painting. “Although, I’m always willing to be convinced that a sinner is the way to go.”
“Because that generally means no commitment, right?”
Zane’s dark brows jerked together. “How did we get on to commitment?”
Carla registered the abrupt silence as if whoever had just entered the gallery had seen them and stopped.
Her heart slammed in her chest as she caught Lucas’s reflection in one of the windows. On impulse, she stepped close to Zane and tilted her head back, the move flirtatious and openly provocative. She was playing with fire, because Zane had a reputation that scorched.
Lucas would be furious with her. If he was jealous, her behavior would probably kill any feelings he had left for her, but she was beyond caring. He had hurt her too badly for her to pull back now. “If that’s an invitation, the answer is yes.”
Zane’s gaze registered unflattering surprise.
Minor detail, because Lucas was now walking toward them. Gritting her teeth, she wound her finger in Zane’s tie, applying just enough pressure that his head lowered until his mouth was mere inches from hers.
His gaze was disarmingly neutral. “I know what you’re up to.”
“You could at least be tempted.”
“I’m trying.”
“Try harder.”
“Damn, you’re type A. No wonder he went for Lilah.”
Carla’s fingers tightened on his tie. “Is it that obvious?”
“Only to me. And that’s because I’m a control freak myself.”
“I am not a control freak.”
He unwound her fingers from his tie. “Whatever you say.”
Cut adrift by Zane’s calm patience, Carla had no choice but to step back and in so doing almost caromed into Lucas.
She flinched at the fiery trail of his gaze over the shadow of her cleavage, her mouth, the impression of heat and desire. If Zane hadn’t been there she was almost certain he would have pulled her close and kissed her.
Lucas’s expression was shuttered. “What are you up to?”
Carla didn’t try to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “I’m not up to anything. Zane was showing me the paintings.”
“Careful,” Zane intervened, his gaze on Lucas. “Or I might think you have a personal interest in Carla, and that couldn’t possibly be, since you’re dating the lovely Lilah.”
A sharp pang went through Carla at the tension vibrating between the brothers, shifting undercurrents she didn’t understand.
Spine rigid, she kept her gaze firmly on Zane’s jaw. She hadn’t liked behaving like that, but at least she had proved that Lucas did still want her. Although the knowledge was a bitter pill, because his reaction repeated a pattern that was depressingly familiar. In establishing a stress-free liaison with him based on her rules, she had somehow negotiated herself out of the very things she needed most: love, companionship and commitment.
Lucas had wanted her for two years, but that was all. The relationship had struggled to progress out of the bedroom. Even when she had finally gotten him to Thailand for a whole four-day minibreak, the longest period of time they had ever spent together, the plan had crashed and burned because she had gotten sick.
She
