Read Draw Me A Picture Online

Authors: Meredith Greene

Draw Me A Picture (26 page)

BOOK: Draw Me A Picture
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Michelle looked up at him in the dim lamplight. He actually appeared sincere.

“I believe,” she said, quietly, “... that is the finest compliment I have ever received.” William responded by kissing her face; his eyes expressed a desire to do much more. Instead, he took her arm. Together they walked behind Margaret and Alfred up the gloriously-lit entry staircase. Inside, the party of four followed a somber-looking butler to the ballroom.

Sophie certainly knew how to decorate for a party. The ballroom appeared vastly proportioned, decked out with bright garlands and fabric banners stretched overhead, intertwined with tiny lights, ending around a huge, glowing chandelier. Exquisite music played from some hidden alcove high above the floor. The low rumble of many low conversations and laughter reverberated in the background.

The butler--standing poker-stiff at the arched entry to the ballroom--announced Margaret and Alfred like they were royalty, much to Michelle’s amusement. She smiled until the butler asked for William’s name, and hers.

“Mr. William Montgomery and Miss Michelle Gregory,” the man belted out.

The opulent ballroom teemed with groups of people; some of those standing nearby looked over at the announcements. One lady in a sleek white-and-silver gown swiftly moved over to them like a tall, radiant swan. It was Sophie. As she drew near, the elegant lady smiled at them with real warmth.

“Carina,” she said to Michelle, “You look so very lovely! Se Bella!” She seemed very pleased with Michelle’s appearance. “It is perfect… I am so jealous of your hair.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” she said. “Your home... the queen of England could live here.”

Sophie smiled and waved her hand around as if it all meant nothing.

“Thank you,” she said grandly. She gave William kisses on his face. “You are all welcome here. Please! Mingle... I will find you a drink, no?” She looked at Michelle.

“Um… I don’t really...” the young woman began.

“I see you have finally started dating women, William.”

A rather dark voice spoke out, from somewhere close behind Michelle. The voice did not seem to be a friendly one. Michelle didn’t dare turn around. William, on the other hand was not intimidated; smirking, he looked over his shoulder.

“Luca, you old gigolo,” he said coolly. “I thought you’d be dead of syphilis by now.”

Thinking a fight was imminent Michelle felt her shoulders tense. Unfazed by their words Sophie started giggling.

“You two are so funny!” she said, smiling. “What a couple of boys they are! They have been making fun of each other for years...” She leaned on Michelle’s shoulder, chuckling; Michelle could tell the hostess had been sampling the wine rather heavily. “Luca, come and meet William’s amore,” Sophie continued, waving someone over.

“Yes... Luca D’Angelo, may I introduce my girlfriend… Miss Michelle Gregory.”

Unable to avoid it any longer Michelle turned around and dipped slightly in a hesitant curtsy.

“Dios,” Sophie’s son spoke smoothly; his voice sounded like chocolate icing pouring over a cake. “William, what have you done to deserve such an angel?” Not looking at the man directly, Michelle put on her ‘polite’ smile; no blush colored her face. The newcomer's self-possessed tone could not inspire even a spark in her. “Her skin looks like pure cream.” Michelle still didn’t acknowledge the man. “She is a shy one, no?” Luca continued, after a pause.

Choosing her words carefully Michelle found that she disliked the man's voice exceedingly; he sounded like an alley cat strutting for females, meowing loudly until someone chucks a boot at it. An odd feeling of confidence made itself felt in Michelle and prompted her to respond.

“And so should I be, sir,” she said, finally looking up. “Seeing as we're strangers.” Luca D’Angelo looked much like Sophie: handsome with dark olive skin and regal features; he possessed dark eyes and light brown curly hair that spilled over his forehead. Michelle guessed him to be about William’s age. His eyes held a mildly surprised look, and then he smiled. Unlike William’s warm grin, this smile oozed  an insincere charm. His dark eyes flashed with something like a challenge. On some women, Michelle supposed that look would work magic, but to her it seemed slimy. Careful not to show her revulsion outwardly, Michelle smiled politely and she threaded her arm through William’s.

“She is clever, too,” Luca said, looking at William. “You lucky bastard... where did you find her?” William chuckled.

“You know I’d never tell you,” he said, smiling. “Nice girls like Michelle have to hide from suave heartbreakers, like you.”

“That is not nice,” the man said, narrowing his eyes at William. “Tell me then...” Luca said, looking back down at Michelle. “Does she have a sister?”

Michelle rolled her eyes at this and looked away, causing both men to laugh.

“The lady is tired of your drivel already, Luca,” William said, grinning. “That has to be some kind of
record.” He looked down at Michelle affectionately. “Shall we go eat, love?” Michelle looked up at him, her
sweet smile blossoming and lighting up her whole face. Luca saw this transformation and finished his drink in one gulp.
 

“Completely unfair,” he proclaimed, with a sniff. “You live like a celibate monk for six years and wind up with a goddess.” Michelle wrinkled her nose.

“Hardly, sir,” she quipped; she was careful to keep her tone soft. “A goddess would not have put up with such banal discussion.” William threw back his head and laughed. Luca's flabbergasted expression was priceless. Not much rattled the debonair Italian and he privately savored the moment.

“Come, darling,” William said, smirking. “Let’s sit for dinner; I’m famished.” Sophie materialized beside them.

“This way!” she said brightly. “Dinner is ready now.” She threw her son a warning glance before leading the way across the ballroom floor. Luca followed a little ways behind them, grimacing at his empty glass.

The dining ‘room’ seemed more like a wide hall, separated from the ballroom by a series of graceful, open arches. Michelle liked this design very much. One could eat, talk and watch the dancers all at once. It was much different than a stuffy, formal room. Sophie stopped by one side of the lengthy table and showed them their seats. To Michelle’s dismay, her place card was not by William’s; she was instead seated between Luca and Alfred. Seeing her expression, Sophie laughed.

“Oh, my dear, do not look so chagrined,” she said. “One should never sit lovebirds together; always they make the eyes at one another and say nothing to their other companions.”

In spite of her shyness, Michelle felt obligated to respond; nothing would be worse than being near that Luca character without William to lean on.

“But, some conversation is better than none, ma’am,” she found herself saying. Sophie looked at her with amusement, one eyebrow arched.

“How do you mean?” she asked, smiling. Michelle shifted her feet slightly.

“Not to be rude, but I’m very shy… and well, without William nearby I’d feel so awkward that I wouldn’t say one word.” She managed to say it without her voice trembling; the last thing she wanted to do was seem rude or ungrateful.

Sophie narrowed her eyes at Michelle; her smile grew very wide. She glanced up at William. He appeared to be trying not to laugh.

“She is astute, this one,” the lady said, approvingly. “So, sit with her. Luca will be on her other side.” She reached over and swiftly switched the place cards. Michelle let out a breath of relief and smiled at the hostess gratefully. Sophie nodded and swept off to her own seat.

Normally, William would be worried about bringing a girl around Luca D’Angelo, but Michelle surprised him with her sudden, polite frostiness. William sat down by his emerald green lady, watching as she placed her napkin on her lap with delicate fingers. Feeling his scrutiny Michelle gave him an upward glance through her long lashes, one that nearly made William’s heart skip a beat. Reaching into his coat pocket, he felt the small Tiffany box and smiled down at Michelle.

“You are doing very well, love,” he said, leaning down to speak quietly in her appealing, little ear. “I’m quite impressed.” Michelle blushed, looking very much like herself again.

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you to your adversary,” she whispered back, over the noise of the dining room.

“Not at all,” William said, grinning widely. “He bloody deserved it.” Michelle smiled, her eyes twinkling with fun.

“I didn’t like the look he gave me,” she explained. “You’re the only one who can get away with looks like that.” William took her hand in his.

“I admire you very much, do you know that?” he murmured; he kissed the back of Michelle’s hand.

“I think I shall be ill, watching the two of you,” Luca called, from Michelle’s other side. William chuckled, leaning back to meet the intruder's glare over his girlfriend's head.

“You’re just mad you couldn’t scare up a nice girl to impress your mum with,” William remarked. “Where’s that trust-fund blond thing you brought last year? I thought you two were semi-serious.”

Looking sideways at Luca Michelle felt wariness creep over her.The smile on the man’s face belied the dark things glittering in his eyes. Sophie’s son laughed, however.

“Ah,” he said, running his hand through his curly mane, “I do not remember her name. Charlize, I think. You are right, my friend. I am hopelessly shallow.”

As he spoke Luca looked down at Michelle. Her profile was set prettily against the olive green tablecloth. Leaning back he smiled at her, a grin which grew as the girl turned towards to William.

“My mother tells me you are an artist extraordinaire, carina,” he purred, ignoring the steely look William gave him. Michelle turned to face him wit a guarded expression. Her polite smile appeared affixed to her face like a sticker.

“My name is Michelle,” she said, blinking. “Unless you suffer from poor short-term memory, you should be able to remember that.” The swarthy Casanova lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Is she so icy with you?” Luca said, addressing William. Looking at the table, Michelle bristled inwardly at this. Grinning, William shook his head.

“No, old boy,” he said, sounding vastly amused. “This beautiful girl is as sweet as honey. She’s just a little choosy who gets to taste it.”

Turning, Michelle favored William with a bright smile. He winked at her. Luca mumbled something incoherent into his drink; he sounded defeated, Michelle thought. Studying William, she was very tempted to kiss him, right there in front of everyone but the food forestalled her. Steaming plates and baskets appeared, brought by a perpetual army of servers. A rich smell, woven of several pleasant aromas, filled the hall. Michelle was immediately reminded of what hunger felt like.

William took great pleasure in feeding his date little bites from his plate, and allowed her to feed him also. When she leaned towards him to talk, or let him feed her, he got a grand view of her rather low neckline. Not that he minded, though it took a few stiff drinks to quell the growing discomforts that such a seductive sight caused him. A half hour later, William felt the more human effects of the cocktails and excused himself to the men’s room.

As soon as he was out of sight Luca leaned onto the table, next to Michelle. He watched her eat for a few seconds, wondering at her curious ability to ignore him.

“So, William has chosen himself a girl both clever and lovely; a ‘fox’, as you Americans say.” His words had no immediate effect on Michelle, as far as he could tell. She chewed daintily for a moment, and then wiped her mouth on her table napkin. Luca’s experienced eye took in everything; this girl had grace in her movements and intelligent eyes, but she restrained herself and her words in a very becoming way. He could see what William saw in her.

“I hope I did not insult you earlier, sir,” came her soft voice. She directed her strange, alluring eyes at Luca’s right eyebrow, refusing to meet his gaze. “I am not used to people saying such things to me, and did not find it flattering.”

Luca reached up and ran his fingers over his eyebrow, as if to smooth it. Michelle hid her smile in a small cough.  

“Not to worry, carina.” Luca said, smiling seductively. “I can see why the Englishman wants you; you have an inner fire that is most fascinating.”

“Inner fire?”
Michelle thought, trying hard not to laugh.
“Is this guy serious?”
She pretended to be interested in a small piece of quiche on her plate; taking a bite, she chewed thoughtfully, not really knowing how to answer Luca’s statement.
“This quiche is amazing!”
she thought, cutting a little more. Sophie’s chef was ingenious. Michelle momentarily forgot Luca was sitting there, looking at her.
 

“You have no answer to that, carina?” Luca prompted, edging a little closer. Michelle looked at him sideways, wiping her mouth again.

“Your statement was rhetorical,” she pointed out, taking care to use a softer tone than she wished to. Unused to such answers from his mother’s guests, Luca persisted.

“True,” he said, eyes sparkling with a challenge. “So, do you have a sister like you?” Michelle lifted one of her eyebrows slightly.

“If I did, I promise that you’d be the last to know,” she said, sincerely. Luca apparently found her answer humorous; he laughed out loud, making Sophie look over from across the table.

The hostess noted Michelle’s annoyed expression and smiled into her champagne. Seated next to her, Margaret leaned over.

“No offense intended, Sophie, but Michelle seems to be fending off Luca very well,” she said, quietly.

“None taken,” Sophie assured her friend, watching the two young people with interest. “It is good for him to see that sweet girls can be just as interesting as the ones who hop from bed to bed.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Margaret said, laughing. They clinked glasses and continued to watch the pair across the table.

“Is William the only man you are pleasant to?” Luca coaxed, refusing to be beaten.

“Be nice to the hostesses’ son.... be nice to the hostesses’ son,”
Michelle repeated in her mind, trying not to roll her
eyes. Alfred came to her rescue.
 

BOOK: Draw Me A Picture
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