The Duke's Willful Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

want all three.  And I want you to have dinner with me.  Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at eight o’clock.”
    “But…” she looked from the tall stranger to Robert who was practically salivating at the easy sale.  Robert was already pulling the case and all towards him and Sasha knew that her works would disappear into some back room. 
    She grabbed her case and pulled them back.  “Sir, you really should reconsider.”
    “There’s nothing to reconsider.  Dinner, eight o’clock.”  He turned to Robert.  “ Y ou’ll send her address to my office, si?’ he said and without waiting for an answer, turned back to Sasha .  “Until tonight, mia bella.  I look forward to seeing you again.”
    Sasha watched as the man walked out and turned left, disappearing down the street.  When he was out of her sight, she turned back to glare at a gloating Robert, smacking him on the arm.  “Don’t you dare send all three of those paintings to that man.  Just one and you pick out the best one of the selection I brought.  And don’t gouge him on the one you’re going to send over.”   She bit her lip, worrying that the paintings she brought might not be her best work and her mind frantically sifted through her other pieces, trying to think if she had something better. 
    Robert laughed heartily.  “ Sasha , dear, you have no idea who that man is!”   He was too delighted with the sale to even tease her but wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her stiff body. 
    She pushed his arms off her, refusing to be buttered up by the shmoosy man who was going to charge a handsome, interesting stranger too much for paintings he probably didn’t even understand.  “I don’t care who he is.  He probably doesn’t know the first thing about art and won’t know how much you’re going to charge him.  You be nice!” she ordered, pointing a stern finger at him.  “And only send him the second one.  He probably can’t afford all three.”
    Sasha turned on her heel and left, fuming that Robert was laughing so hard he couldn’t even voice a response.  He’d often accused her of being soft hearted, but in this case, she suspected that Robert was perhaps being abusive. 
    She stormed down the opposite way the stranger had taken and walked all the way to her loft apartment, uncaring about the length or the painfully cold afternoon .  After that encounter, she needed time to get the man out of her mind and a punishing walk was exactly what she needed . 
    At eight o’clock that night, her doorbell rang.  She was so preoccupied with her latest painting, she almost didn’t answer it.  But after the second ring, she thought it might be faster to just answer i t and get rid of the person than to endure a third , distracting ring. 
    “What?” she asked impatiently when the bell rang for a third time because she wasn’t fast enough . 
    Dante looked down at the gorgeous woman from this afternoon with her soft hair piled on top of her head, held there by several pencils pointed at odd angles .  T here was a smudge of red paint on her left cheek and something he might describe as purple on her nose.  “I’m overdressed, aren’t I?” he asked, referring to his immaculate charcoal suit, while glancing at her paint spattered overalls and tank top underneath.  She wasn’t even wearing shoes!
    “Overdressed?” she looked at her clothes, then back at him.  “Oh my goodness!  Dinner? ” she gasped, suddenly remembering his order that she accompany him for dinner tonight.  “ You were serious?”
    “I never joke,” he replied dryly and stepped into her loft.  “But I’m very flexible.”  He turned to the man who had been standing behind him and said something quickly in Italian.  When the man disappeared, Dante shut the door.  “We’ll dine in since that’s obviously your intention.”
    She stepped out of his way, wondering why she’d allowed him into her loft.  She usually