Chapter 2

Cat couldn't get Evan out of her head. She had been trying since the moment he walked away from the café table the previous night. "Damn" she muttered as she stood up from the kitchen table in her apartment. She walked to the refrigerator to get chilled water.

She leaned against the cabinet and stared at the drawing pad on the table. The beginnings of a cityscape were apparent. The foreground was entirely erased. She often used either herself or Ande for the model of any woman in her art and her dad, because his features were the masculine manifestation of her own, or her friend Jake as the model for men. Because she both had the images of these people ingrained in her mind and pictures of them were scattered about the apartment, sketching them did not require their actual presence, except in the case of herself, which was convenient because it allowed her to work whenever inspiration struck. What was disturbing her was that when she sketched the male figure into the cityscape she, without being aware of it until after the fact, placed Evan hand in hand with herself. She futilely tried to convince herself that it was Jake with longer hair, but it was obviously Evan.

She shook her head and glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven and since she planned to take him up on the "downtown art gallery, nine p.m." she needed to get dressed.

She pulled into the parking garage near the gallery a few minutes before nine. She usually ran a bit late, and a few minutes at these gallery shows never mattered in the least.

She had dressed in a simple black cocktail dress. It was strapless, form fitting, and mid-calf length with a slit over halfway up one thigh. She also had on her favorite strappy stilettos, which happened to be silver. She fluffed her hair one last time in the rearview mirror and touched up her lipstick, which really didn't add any color to her lips but provided a nice shimmer and the illusion of even greater fullness. She got out of her car and walked out to the sidewalk.

It was chilly out, but still not cold, as she strolled toward the gallery. It was a nice night for this late into the fall. The sky was clear and if she hadn't been in the middle of downtown, she was sure the stars would be breathtaking. She was hopeful that she and Evan could go for a walk later.

Evan stood in the entryway of the gallery. He was fidgety. And nervous. It annoyed and disconcerted him that she was doing this to him, already making him crazy. He had only met her less than twenty-four hours ago, after all. He knew nothing about her. In fact, he had no idea whether or not she would even show up. She hadn't explicitly said she would. Something in her eyes and smile was confirmation enough for him though. Something about her manner had also told him that she would actually know where the downtown art gallery was and would be comfortable in this setting. He was the one who wasn't exactly comfortable. Maybe she would want to take a walk. Or anything else. He had to put in an appearance, but he was already anxious to leave. At least the paintings were interesting tonight. And the punch was decent.

He had dressed to impress, not that it took much for him to look good. A black Armani suit never diminished his appearance though. His hair was loose and hung somewhat in his face. He didn't wear a tie. Only a black button down dress shirt with the top two buttons left open. He paced back and forth in the entryway. He glanced at someone else's watch. Almost nine. He hoped, more than he had hoped for anything in a long time, that Cat would walk through the door soon.

When he saw the angel in the black dress saunter or float or strut or however it was that she seemed to magically move to the door, his breath caught in his chest. He was sure he saw her eyes light up when she saw him as she walked into the gallery. He didn't want to get his hopes up too much.

"You look amazing," he said when she was close enough to hear him.

When she reached him, she cupped his face in her hands and placed the most amazingly light, sexy kiss he had ever experienced on his lips. Then she hooked her arm around his waist and said "Well, while we're in here, we might as well look at the paintings."

He laughed and put his arm around her. She seemed so small, physically, especially standing with him, but her personality and attitude made her presence stand out.

As they walked from piece to piece around the gallery, Cat's discussions of the various techniques and styles, along with the appearance that she was completely at home in the gallery, convinced Evan that she must be seriously into art. He was curious of what kind.

"What do you do?" he finally blurted out, while she was admiring the way the artist had blended some paints. She seemed a bit startled, but laughed and told him.

"I'm a senior in college. I'm going to the law school here in the city next fall. I paint. I draw. I am an artist, but law is how I will pay to live. I've been a freelance writer, a bank teller, a waitress, and a few other things. Now, how about you?"

"I'm an architect. An architect who has been really lucky."

He was sure she wondered what he meant by that, but she didn't ask. Perhaps she already knew him better than he knew himself. He sensed that she could read him like a book.

He looked down into her eyes, gave her a crooked grin and kissed her hard enough he had to pull her to him. When he stopped, she licked her lip a bit and gave him that smile that made him feel like he was melting.

"Let's get out of here," he whispered in her ear. His voice was husky and low. She shivered, grinned at him again, batted her eyelashes, and he pulled her closer to his side. I'm not going to be able to hold up against this for very long, he thought warily. It wasn't like he wanted to though. He already knew that the minute she made a move, he was all hers. He wanted to put more work into it than that. He hoped she would at least wait and let him romance her a little.

Cat loved the way Evan looked at her. It was like she was beautiful and intelligent and like he already knew everything about her. Maybe he did. They seemed to have some bizarre connection. She looked up at him as they stopped along the railing of a little bridge in the park. He was smiling. Well, not smiling exactly, but a little grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth and his eyes were twinkling. He looked so kissable.

He glanced down at her and caught her eye. He slid his arm around her back and turned her to face him between himself and the bridge railing. He wrapped his arms completely around her and held her tightly for a moment, then lowered his head and breathed deeply on her neck just below her ear, his lips nearly grazing her neck. She breathed in sharply and pulled Evan more tightly against herself.

She had never felt this way about a man before. He literally took her breath away. Pressed so closely against him, the bulge in his pants left no doubt how badly he wanted her. She wasn't going to keep him waiting long, but they had barely talked on the stroll from the gallery. She wanted to get to know him a bit better before she slept with him. The way she felt around him made her think that it wouldn't matter what order she did things; he would be in her life from now on.

"So, Evan, do you have more to your name than that?"

His laugh was disarming. She had noticed that sometimes he could look a bit withdrawn and somber, but every time he looked at her or smiled or laughed, every trace of cold was gone from his face. She didn't mind if he could be withdrawn or that he might have some problems being friendly. Not that he had, thus far. She sensed that he could be that way though. She could be an ice queen herself. She was sure her emotions and such would cause him much more trouble than his would incur on her.

"Yes, I have a whole name. It's Evan Quentin Grey. I'm guessing your question was really asking me who I am. Perhaps not, but I think I'll tell you some things anyway. I'm an architect, but I've mentioned that. I design eco-friendly buildings that are both functional and, of course, eye-catching. Like that art gallery."

Cat nodded and tightened her hold on his waist.

He continued. "People tell me I act like a quarrelsome old man. Maybe I do, but you make me feel like I'm floating on a cloud. I don't think that sounds like a quarrelsome old man talking. I dislike football and pop music. I also dislike people who are fake, hypocritical, or liars. I do like sunsets and snowboarding, though I think I would prefer dancing with you to anything in the snow. Oh, and I like dogs. Now, about yourself?"

Cat laughed. "Catherine Bay Williams. Yes, it's a rather unusual middle name. I'm apparently an ice queen, but you seem to have warmed me up just fine. I also dislike football and pop music. I hate musicals but love operas. I like books. I draw, paint, and whatever else I feel inspired to do. You would enjoy dancing with me. Oh, and I like dogs."

He laughed and mussed her hair. "You're quite the crack up, little one," he said teasingly.

Evan couldn't pass up an opportunity to touch Cat, or look at her, or especially kiss her. Her lips were so full and soft. Her kisses were always spontaneous and he never knew what kind to expect. They ranged from a feather-light brushing of the lips that felt like kissing a cloud, to an oh-so-hot French that nearly knocked him off his feet every time.

"So, Catherine Bay, where would you like to go now? It's only eleven, that's an early night for me."

Much to his delight, Cat ran her hand lightly down his back and in a voice that was somehow simultaneously soft, playful, and amazingly sexy said "Well, Mr. Lucky Architect, where do you live?"

Evan laughed happily and spun Cat quickly around, dipped her backward over his arm and gave her a kiss. She stood up looking dizzy and giddy. He loved her smile. He was powerless against her every move and he had a feeling she wasn't even trying to seduce him. He wondered what that would be like. He hoped he was correct in his assumption that he would find out much sooner rather than later.

"Well, little one, I'm parked about five blocks down the street. I'll take you there. I'll bring you back to your car when you decide you want it again. It will be safe in the parking garage." He hadn't been this happy in a long time. It wasn't just that he wanted to sleep with her, which he did, very much so, she just felt right. He could actually feel himself falling for her. He knew it was way too soon to call it love, but that was what he felt when he saw the twinkle in her eyes as they walked, arms wrapped around one another, down the street.

They chatted idly about music, family, hobbies, and their pasts. She learned that he hadn't had a relationship, or even a date, in over two years, and that he had quite a past prior to that. He learned that she had a bad reputation, but really hadn't had sex since her sophomore year; she just fooled around a lot. He also learned, rather by accident, that kissing her neck made her melt. When he paused to do so on a street corner, the way she leaned into him made him think he may have to carry her.