on the picture so she didn’t have to return his gaze?
He couldn’t be sure. But the feverish feeling Lady Ari gave him was too overpowering to ignore. “I’m going to buy it.” Now, he thought, today.
With a sudden jolt, Lizzie jerked her head toward his. “And do what with it?”
“I’ll hang it in my house.” He considered where to put it. “Above the fireplace in my den.”
“You already have a nice piece of artwork there.”
“So I’ll replace it with this one.”
She fussed with her ponytail, as if she was fighting its brazen color, and he realized how uncomfortable his attraction to Lady Ari was making her. But he simply couldn’t let the painting go.
As they both fell silent, Max noticed that George was watching the two of them, probably thinking what strange friends they were. But nonetheless, the older man was obviously pleased that he’d just made a significant sale.
“The artist would be enchanted by you,” George told Lizzie. “You would be charmed by him, too. He’s young and handsome.” He then said to Max, “A lot like you.”
Lizzie raised her eyebrows at that, and Max shrugged, as if the artist’s virility was of no consequence. But it made him feel funny inside, with George making what seemed like romantic comparisons.
Still, it didn’t change his interest in buying it. The need to have it was too strong. Max arranged to have the painting shipped home, as he’d done with the items he’d bought for his nieces.
After the transaction was complete, they said goodbye to George and returned to their taxi, piling the art supplies Lizzie had purchased into the trunk.
She scowled at Max and said, “I still have to get Losa a rose.”
“Okay, but don’t be mad about the painting.”
“I’m not.”
Yes, she was, he thought. She didn’t like the idea of him owning a picture that could be mistaken for an untamed version of her. But he wasn’t going to apologize for buying something he wanted.
“Do you know where the florist is?” she asked him.
“No.” He didn’t have a clue. He checked with their driver and was informed that it was close enough to walk, so they set out on foot again.
The florist offered a variety of exotic plants and blooms. Max waited patiently while Lizzie labored over what color of rose to buy.
She decided on a pale yellow, and they returned to the taxi and climbed into the car. The driver started the engine and off they went, en route to the orphanage.
After a beat of silence, she said, “I wonder who modeled for it.”
For it. The painting. Obviously her mind was still on Lady Ari. “I assumed that the artist had created her from his imagination.”
She sat stiffly in her seat, clutching the rose. “I should have asked George, but I didn’t think of it then. I’d prefer that she was a real person.”
“Why? Because then she would seem less like you and more like the model? Just think of how I feel, knowing the artist is a handsome guy who’s supposedly a lot like me.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “It serves you right. I mean, really, what were you thinking, buying something like that?”
He defended himself. “You ought to be glad that I did.”
“Oh, yeah? How do you figure?”
“Because now I can lust over the painting and forget that I ever had the hots for you.”
“You wish.” As they rounded a corner, he leaned into her. She shoved him aside. “And stop crowding me.”
Max cursed beneath his breath. He wasn’t invading her space purposely. The force of the turn had done it. He wanted to tell the driver to slow down, that this wasn’t the damned Autobahn. Instead he said to Lizzie, “You’re nothing like Lady Ari. It’s not as if you’d ever dance that way in the moonlight.”
“Gee, you think?” She waved her arms around, willy-nilly. “Me and a male heap of burning fire?”
“That was the worst sensual dance I’ve ever seen.”
“That was the idea.”
“To suck?”
The taxi came to a quick halt, stopping for a group of pedestrians. Max and Lizzie both flew forward and bumped their foreheads on the seats in front of them.
He turned to look at her, and she burst out laughing. He did, too. It was impossible to keep arguing in the midst of such absurdity.
“I’m sorry for giving you a hard time,” she said. “You can buy whatever artwork you want.”
“I’m sorry, too.” He leaned toward her and whispered in a mock sexy voice, “I didn’t mean what I said about forgetting that I have the hots for you. Even if you can’t dance like her, you’re still a temptress.”
She accepted his flirtation for what it was. But she also pushed him away from her again, keeping him from remaining too close.
Then...vroom! The car sped off, taking them to the grassy outskirts of town, where the orphanage was.
The orphanage was in a renovated old church, large enough to accommodate its residents and perched on a pretty piece of land with a cluster of coconut trees.
A short stout lady greeted them on the porch. With plainly styled gray hair and eyes that crinkled beneath wire-rimmed glasses, she appeared to be around seventy. Max introduced her as Losa.
After they shook hands, Lizzie extended the rose. “This is for you.”
“Thank you. It’s lovely.” The older woman accepted it with a gracious smile. Although she gazed at Lizzie’s fiery red hair, she didn’t comment on it.
Thankfully, that made the painting Max had bought seem less important. For now, anyway. No doubt Lady Ari would keep creeping back into Lizzie’s mind, along with Max’s sexy little joke about Lizzie tempting him.
Clearing her wayward thoughts, she said, “I also brought gifts for the kids.” She gestured to the boxes Max had placed beside the door. “I got blankets and bottles for the babies and art supplies for the rest of them.”
“That’s wonderful.” Once again, Losa thanked her. “You seem like a nice girl.”
“She is,” Max said. “We’ve known each other since high school. We’ve been proper friends a long time.”
Proper friends? Was that his way of making sure that Losa didn’t mistake them as lovers,
