“Sounds amazing. I can’t wait to see it.” A painting of Mrs. Gravelle and other ladies playing cards? Did Mallerton paint it as well? I sighed impatiently, eager to start my evaluation, and knowing I was on the threshold of significant discovery. Ivan had a remarkable collection of art, and I’d only seen mere bits and pieces of it so far.

“The one to ask would be my gran, but she lives in Paris nearly all the year now and her traveling days are behind her. She is the only person who I know of to take even a passing interest in the family artworks in decades. My grandfather, who died before I was born, certainly didn’t according to her,” he said dryly.

“Your grandmother lives in Paris?”

“She does indeed.”

“She is French?”

“Well, yes, in the sense she’s a French citizen having been born and raised there. But she is Russian by blood. Both her parents fled Russia as children with their families during the revolution. In fact, she’s a Romanov descendant on her mother’s side.”

I froze against him. “A Romanov descendant, as in the Russian royal family Romanov?” No wonder he needed a professional to delve into his painting collection and advise him. There was no telling what sorts of treasures were buried here if Ivan had Russian czars in his family tree. “Is that why you have a Russian name of Ivan?”

“Minor royalty descended from a royal house with no country and no status for more than a century, and yes, my name came from my gran. It was her father’s name as well. Her surname was Ivanova before she married my grandfather and became an Everley.” He nuzzled my neck with his lips from behind, the rough stubble of his unshaven beard making me shiver deliciously. “I should take you to Paris to meet my gran. I’d wager you and her would get on famously with your love of art and paintings. In fact, she’s been scolding me for ages to get someone in here to organize the collection. I should ring her up and tell her I’ve finally managed it.”

Paris with Ivan. That would be hard to turn down if he ever really wanted to do it. “Well, I agree with your gran. You should have asked for a conservationist to come here ages ago as she suggested. From the tiny bit I’ve seen since I came downstairs, I am salivating to see what else you’ve got stashed away in this house.” I shook my head and wiggled around to face him.

“Ahh, I like the sound of that. You salivating for more,” he said suggestively. “I don’t think you’ll be disappointed if just this little painting here can wind you up.” He gently took hold of my chin and tilted my face up to his. “There are plenty of other paintings for you to see, but I very much want to show you something outside first. May I, Gabrielle?”

His request was so sincere it would have been impossible to tell him no, plus I’d enjoyed everything he’d done with me since he’d brought me here. Ivan had taken care of me in more ways than one, and I was sure whatever he had awaiting us outside would be well worth it. The paintings I was dying to look over had already been here at Donadea for decades, and another day wouldn’t change them. I could tell whatever he wanted to show me was important to him.