The Art of Stealing Kisses (Stealing Hearts Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

seriously no matter how much she
dresses herself up. Besides, St. Clair’s
such a playboy. In a week, he’ll
have some new hotter girl on his arm and Cinderella will be back
scrubbing floors where she belongs.”
    My
face gets hot, and I feel the sting of tears in my eyes, but I don’t
move.
    “She
seemed nice when she talked about visiting hospitals because of her
mom,”
the other girl says.
    “Whatever,
sob story, ugh. She doesn’t
belong in this world, and she’ll
be forced to see it soon enough. Anyway, did you see what Fifi was
wearing? O.M.G, can you say desperate?”
    Their
conversation moves on, but I’m
forced to wait, silent in the stall until the door closes shut behind
them.
    I
feel sick. Sure, Chelsea is being a jealous bitch, but her words
bring up the same fears I’ve
been trying to ignore this whole time.
    Maybe
I don’t belong. Maybe I never will.
    And
the things she said about St. Clair…
I’m
not naïve,
a man like that must have women throwing themselves at him 24/7, but
I’ve
been too swept up in the romance of it all to think about that. But
if he is a playboy – if
he does date a new woman every week –
what does
that mean for us? Or worse, what if there is no ‘us’?
    I
head back out to the party, trying to ignore my doubts. Then I see
St. Clair across the room, standing very close to a woman I don’t
recognize. She’s
beautiful and sophisticated, with long blonde hair and a stunning
black gown. I can’t
hear what they’re
saying, but it’s
clear she’s
flirting with Charles, placing her hand on his chest and leaning in
too close to laugh with him.
    I
feel jealousy rising in my chest, but I try to push it away. We spent
one night together. We haven’t
event talked about what it meant, if anything, and it’s
not like he’s
my boyfriend. I have no real claim on his attention, but still,
seeing them together slices right through me.
    I
try to get my feeling under control. I can’t
get too emotional—he’s
my boss. And he’s
gorgeous. There are always going to be women hitting on him. This is
something I need to get used to. He’s
not mine.
    As
I watch them, St. Clair laughs again. The woman hugs him and my
control is a distant memory. Is Nona right, what she said about
letting my heart get swept up? I have worked so hard to find a place
for myself in the art world, and no matter what Chelsea said, I’m
just starting to prove myself. I can’t
let my feelings ruin this opportunity to launch my career
– however
much I want St. Clair.
    Priorities,
Grace .
     
    Instead
of going right back to him, I do my best to network for the rest of
the evening: chatting to the hospital board, collectors and the rest
of the rarefied guests. St. Clair finds me just as people are
starting to leave.
    His
eyes are a painter’s
dream, and my resolution to stay focused on the business side of our
relationship starts to evaporate as he walks me out of the lobby into
the cool night air. “I’m
happy to have Arturo take you home,”
he says. “Or
we could go to my place for a nightcap.”
    He
brings my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. Those eyes are on
mine, sparkling with heat and suggestion.
    “Um,
well…” I
can’t
help it. Just like that, my desire to go back to his house is nearly
overwhelming. I want to grab him and pull him close, run my hands
through his hair. Discover his body all over again.
    But
I remember what Chelsea said – and
how it felt, watching him flirt with that woman. I swallow thickly.
“I
don’t
know if that’s
such a good idea. I think it might be better if we, uh, hit pause on
our romance for now. Or whatever it might be.”
I look away, feeling my cheeks flush.
    He
sounds disappointed. “Oh.”
He drops his
arm but doesn’t
let go of my hand and the heat of his skin against mine almost burns
through my willpower. “Right.”
    “For
now,” I
say, awkwardly. “You
know, being colleagues, professional is probably the way to go