“The ladies playing cards painting is a Mallerton. You know more about your art than you think. And it’s not in his catalogue. A new discovery, previously unknown work of Tristan Mallerton just hanging here on your wall.”

It pleased me to see her so thrilled with her discoveries. I also felt a great sense of relief a qualified professional was finally here to take on the project. Did I ever expect the qualified professional would be someone like Gabrielle Hargreave?

Ahh—no. Never in a trillion years. I still had moments believing she was really here again and not a figment of my imagination.

That my professional conservator was one in the same as the gorgeous woman I’d been obsessed with ever since the night we’d met in a mistaken identity situation?

Priceless indeed.

“Well, I’m happy you were the one to find it, Gabrielle. I’m sure there’ll be more discoveries once you get a chance to see everything.”

“Oh, I can only imagine at this point. I’ve only seen in here so far, but the art is not restricted to just this gallery, it’s everywhere all throughout the house, Ivan.”

“I know. Imagine having to look at it day after day fully understanding it’s being neglected but not doing anything to remedy the situation. That’s been an unpleasant weight hanging over my head until now. A true sword of Damocles.” I circled my tongue over that spot I loved on her neck, just below her jaw and felt her shiver in response to the touch. Feeling that shiver through my tongue? Downright obscene. But everything Gabrielle did just made me want to touch her, kiss her, or fuck her. “But now, it’s your problem to deal with and I feel free.” I spoke the truth, even if I neglected to share with her that I also felt like I’d won the National Lottery by buying only a single ticket.

“Well, it’s a fine problem to have from my perspective. I could get used to this, you know.” She sighed dreamily as she leaned all her weight against me, still facing the art.

“My lips on your neck?” I asked hopefully.

“More like your lips on my neck while I stare at your priceless art collection.”

“I can make that happen for you any time you like. This room has locking doors.” My mind started running with thoughts of us in here together—fucking wildly amongst the paintings. “Finally putting this room to good use after decades of desertion. I like the way you think, Miss Hargreave, but I’ll be honest that I’d hoped you were feeling a bit more hooked than merely ‘used to it’ by now.”

She scoffed. “I am. Oh my God, how could I walk away from all this now that I know it’s here? This is beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined, even in my wildest dreams. Your collection—it’s incomparable, Ivan, and somehow, by some miracle I’ve been tasked with uncovering it. Once people find out what you have here, they’re going to demand to see it for themselves—”