“I’ll be right back,” he told her, almost as if he were afraid to leave her alone.
“I’m fine.” Which was true. She’d been startled by the initial realization of what the art exhibit consisted of, but really some of it was quite amazing. And not in just a shocking way.
She wandered along the wall, stopping to study some of the shots. Several were pretty scandalous, maybe even bordering on pornographic, while others, like the one she was in front of now, were actually very beautiful. A glossy photo of a couple clearly joined in intercourse, legs and arms entwined, rapture on their faces. It was really quite powerful. And very erotic.
Much to her dismay, Poppy felt her nipples pucker and harden at the sight. She glanced down at herself, glad her cardigan covered the evidence of her arousal.
She looked around for Killian. He’d gotten another glass of champagne and was now talking to a tall, buxom blonde.
A surge of something far too akin to jealousy shot through her.
Don’t, she told her wayward emotions. He wasn’t interested in her, and that was okay. She could admit that maybe she did have a mild crush on the man, but she knew he wasn’t her type. And he’d been open about his lingering feelings over his ex.
She snuck another look at him, his expression polite but uninterested. This wasn’t going to be the woman to stir his feelings again either.
She was blond.
Poppy turned back to the photo, telling herself the slight weakness in her muscles wasn’t relief. Nope. Not at all.
She smiled, allowing herself a moment to admit it totally was. She didn’t want Killian interested in a woman like that.
She wanted him interested in someone like …
Instead she focused her attention back on the art, on the couple tangled in passion. An image of being entwined with Killian flashed in her head. His body on top of hers, her legs wrapped around his waist. Their bodies connected as intimately as any man and woman could be.
“It’s quite powerful, isn’t it?”
Poppy jumped, snapped out of her daydream. Heat crept up her cheeks as she realized a strange man was standing next to her, watching her.
“Um”—she cleared her throat—“yes, this one is very powerful.”
He nodded, turning his attention back to the black-and-white photo. She wandered on to the next picture, and the man followed. Her first reaction was to be unnerved, but then she told herself that was silly. This was the point of the evening—to mingle. To meet single men, which meant actually talking to them.
“Have you seen this artist’s work before?” she asked him, her voice sounding a little higher than usual because of her nerves.
He smiled, and she noticed he was quite good looking, with straight teeth and dark hair. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties. The gray shirt he wore brought out the steel color of his eyes. Both his shirt and pants looked expensive, but she wasn’t sure. Killian would know.
She mentally pushed Killian aside, forcing herself to pay attention to this man.
“No, I can’t say I have,” he said; his voice was gravelly and held a hint of some sort of accent. “My name is —Parve.”
Parve. That was unusual.
“I’m Poppy,” she offered, then opened her mouth to ask where he was from, but he spoke first.
“Poppy, that’s an unusual name.”
Killian had made that same observation just the other day, and she’d shared that her mother had adored wildflowers. That she considered them a symbol of beauty and survival.
She’d even told Killian what her mother had said so many times while hugging both her and Daisy.
“Love is like wildflowers; it’s often found in the most unlikely places.”
But to this man, Poppy just smiled and agreed.
“So, Poppy, are you really here alone?”
She hesitated, finding his question odd. This was a singles event, after all.
He must have sensed her misgivings, because he promptly added, “I’m sorry, it’s just that I saw you come in with another man.”
Oh, of course. Killian was pretty hard to miss. Apparently even to other men. The competition, she supposed.
“Oh, we are just friends.”
Parve nodded, but she got the distinct feeling he didn’t quite believe her. She supposed it was pretty hard to imagine that she wouldn’t be interested in a guy like Killian.
She shot a longing look toward Killian. And really, wasn’t she? Just a little?
“We’re just friends,” she repeated to the man in front of her.
Killian glanced past the blonde chattering at him. He wasn’t listening, but the occasional nod seemed to be enough to keep up his side of the conversation.
How could he focus when Poppy was talking to that guy? A guy he hadn’t sent to her.
He was supposed to pick out the man for her.
Yet, what difference did it make? The goal was to find her a man. It didn’t matter how. And he did need to get back to his world.
But still, he couldn’t stop watching her talking to that man. Something wasn’t right. His skin prickled with wariness, but he couldn’t pinpoint why.
Poppy laughed at something the man said, and again suspicion raked over Killian.
“Isn’t that funny?” the blonde said with a loud laugh, drawing him back to their conversation, such as it was.
“Very,” he said automatically, but his gaze went right back to Poppy.
The blonde began blathering on again, the words little more than white noise.
The man said something else, then touched Poppy’s arm.
Killian’s muscles tensed like a dog with its hackles going up.
“So you’re from here, then?”
Killian blinked at the woman. “Ah—yeah. I mean no. I’m from—Sweden.”
“Sweden!”
He nodded, his eyes back on Poppy again. Now she strolled away with the man, talking to him as if they’d known each other for years.
Killian gritted his teeth. Why was he even here if she was going to find her own man? The strange possessiveness he’d experienced other times returned, this time stronger than ever.
And again, he felt like something wasn’t right about that guy.
“Ah, so that little thing has caught your attention,” the blonde said, following Killian’s stare.
Killian fought the urge to glare at the woman, somehow irritated that she’d noticed where he was looking.
He shook his head. “We came here together. We’re just friends.”
The blonde laughed, the sound tinny and harsh.
CHAPTER 26
“We are just friends,” Killian repeated, even as he stepped away from the blonde, edging in Poppy’s direction.
“Okay,” she said, the one word thick with doubt.
She smiled, disappointment clear in her heavily made-up eyes, but she didn’t try to stop him. In fact, she just
