Chapter 484: 71: They Think It Was An Anonymous Gift
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Catherine unwrapped the bandage from her ankle and carefully shifted her weight onto the leg. She expected pain, but the ankle felt fine. She flexed and pointed it and then slipped on a pair of strappy white heels. She teetered backward and examined herself in the mirror.
The white gown was quite simple, but it was stunning. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed Catherine's graceful shoulders and pale décolletage without being scandalous. The dress itself clung tight to her b.r.e.a.s.ts and waist before flaring out over her legs. The skirt was narrow, though, and when she moved, the fabric revealed the outline of her a.s.s. She spun slowly in the mirror, amazed at how elegant she felt.
Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and she wore powder, mascara, and a slash of red lipstick. She looked dramatic—like a character in a play. Or a bride. Her breath caught in her c.h.e.s.t. Had Sean intentionally chosen the dress for that reason?
She touched the simple diamond teardrop earrings and then flicked off the light and left her closet. Careful with her ankle, she moved down the stairs slowly and headed toward Sean's study. She knocked shyly on the door, and he told her to enter.
She pushed the door aside and entered the room. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows, and he sat in his desk chair, wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo. His eyes trailed up and down her body, and she shivered as if he were touching her.
"Thanks for the dress," she said. "And for the extra invitations."
He stood and crossed the room, gently touching her hair.
"You don't have to thank me," he said.
"But I want to," she replied.
"Hmm," he said.
He grabbed her by the waist and gently backed her up until her back was pressed flat against the wood-paneled wall. His eyes sparkled, and his mouth crushed down on hers. His left hand slipped down her lower back and cupped her a.s.s, and his right held her firmly by the waist.
"Stop," she panted. "You're going to smudge my makeup."
"Good," he growled. "Then all the men who look at you tonight will know you're mine."
"No man is going to look at me," she objected.
"Oh, you're so very wrong," he growled, claiming her mouth again.
Finally, he pulled away and looked at her. His eyes were bright, and he was panting slightly.
"If you show up like this again, I might have to break all my promises," he warned.
Her blood went cold, and she stiffened in his arms. He smiled to show he was joking, but the intensity stayed in his eyes. She shivered, wondering what a man like him would be like in bed. A small part of her wanted to find out.
"Wait," he said. He disappeared out the door and up the stairs. Moments later, he jogged back with a filmy white shawl in his hands.
"In case you get cold," he said.
She smiled and took the shawl. It was a warm summer evening, but she knew he wasn't worried about the shawl. He was worried about the other men at the auction. She dr.a.p.ed the shawl over her shoulders and followed him out to the car.
As they pulled up to the auction house, a black town car cut them off. She looked at Sean nervously. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a thing. A valet raced forward and opened the doors, and out climbed the Stewarts.
"Oh," he said. "So, that's what you wanted the extra invitations for."
"What did you think I wanted them for?" she asked.
"Maria, Samuel, and Sophia," he replied.
She shook her head.
"They accepted them from you?" he asked, surprised.
"Oh, they have no idea they came from me," she replied. "They think it was an anonymous gift."
His eyes sparkled, and he pulled the sports car up to the valet. As he helped her out of the car, Lawson rushed over. He greeted Sean but ignored Catherine completely.
"Well," she said. "I'm surprised to find you here given your current circ.u.mstances."
"We're not going to hang our heads just because our niece is a disgrace," Melanie snapped.
"Of, of course not," Catherine replied with a smile. "And who knows what investor you may meet today."
She looked at Madison, who was wearing a tight, red silk gown. The front of the gown dipped down to her navel, and her round b.r.e.a.s.ts looked as if they burst and put the top at any minute. Thick, dramatic makeup was layered on Madison's face, and her dyed auburn hair was arranged in a lavish updo.
"Happy hunting," Catherine smirked.
Sean leaned in and nipped the top of her ear, "Play nice."
She smiled up at him, and he offered her his arm. She took it, and he led her into the auction house. Golden light glittered from the dozens of antique crystal chandeliers that dangled from the ceiling, and an excited buzz filled the air. Couples in tuxedos and evening gowns mingled in the entrance, exchanging air kisses and waves.
"Mr. Blair," an usher greeted him. "And Mrs. Blair. Your private box is ready."
The usher led them up a carpeted staircase to a small balcony. It looked like a box seat at an opera—red velvet curtains and upholstery. A woman in a caterer's outfit waited outside the box. She held a crystal glass filled with aromatic whiskey and looked surprised to see Catherine.
"What else can I get you?" she asked.
"Champagne," Catherine said.
Sean raised an eyebrow but nodded, and the waitress disappeared. She reappeared with a champagne flute and a worried expression.
"There are three people outside who claim to be related to you," she said. "They're asking to be allowed in."
"Really?" Catherine asked. "Well then, show them in."
The Stewarts appeared between the red curtains moments later and quickly walked to the edge of the balcony to lean out over the crowd. Catherine rolled her eyes—they were so obvious. They clearly wanted some society photographs to take a picture of them in the box.
"So," she said coolly. "I've heard there's some exquisite contemporary art up for auction. Are you planning on bidding for any of it?"
Melanie's expression soured instantly, "Don't be cruel. You know very well that we won't be bidding for anything."
Catherine shrugged innocently, "I didn't know that. I would have thought you'd already found someone new to leech off of. If not, you might want to head downstairs. That dress Madison's wearing is wasted up here."
Madison cast a glance at Sean and then back at Catherine. Catherine smiled at her cousin—after the last strange few days with Sean, she wasn't worried about Madison as a threat.
"Anyway," Catherine said. "You might notice a few familiar paintings up for auction."
Lawson's eyes darkened, and Melanie's face looked pinched, but they didn't dare say anything in front of Sean. The lights dimmed, and a tinny bell rang in the distance.
"Oh good," she said. "It's starting."
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Catherine unwrapped the bandage from her ankle and carefully shifted her weight onto the leg. She expected pain, but the ankle felt fine. She flexed and pointed it and then slipped on a pair of strappy white heels. She teetered backward and examined herself in the mirror.
The white gown was quite simple, but it was stunning. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed Catherine's graceful shoulders and pale décolletage without being scandalous. The dress itself clung tight to her b.r.e.a.s.ts and waist before flaring out over her legs. The skirt was narrow, though, and when she moved, the fabric revealed the outline of her a.s.s. She spun slowly in the mirror, amazed at how elegant she felt.
Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and she wore powder, mascara, and a slash of red lipstick. She looked dramatic—like a character in a play. Or a bride. Her breath caught in her c.h.e.s.t. Had Sean intentionally chosen the dress for that reason?
She touched the simple diamond teardrop earrings and then flicked off the light and left her closet. Careful with her ankle, she moved down the stairs slowly and headed toward Sean's study. She knocked shyly on the door, and he told her to enter.
She pushed the door aside and entered the room. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows, and he sat in his desk chair, wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo. His eyes trailed up and down her body, and she shivered as if he were touching her.
"Thanks for the dress," she said. "And for the extra invitations."
He stood and crossed the room, gently touching her hair.
"You don't have to thank me," he said.
"But I want to," she replied.
"Hmm," he said.
He grabbed her by the waist and gently backed her up until her back was pressed flat against the wood-paneled wall. His eyes sparkled, and his mouth crushed down on hers. His left hand slipped down her lower back and cupped her a.s.s, and his right held her firmly by the waist.
"Stop," she panted. "You're going to smudge my makeup."
"Good," he growled. "Then all the men who look at you tonight will know you're mine."
"No man is going to look at me," she objected.
"Oh, you're so very wrong," he growled, claiming her mouth again.
Finally, he pulled away and looked at her. His eyes were bright, and he was panting slightly.
"If you show up like this again, I might have to break all my promises," he warned.
Her blood went cold, and she stiffened in his arms. He smiled to show he was joking, but the intensity stayed in his eyes. She shivered, wondering what a man like him would be like in bed. A small part of her wanted to find out.
"Wait," he said. He disappeared out the door and up the stairs. Moments later, he jogged back with a filmy white shawl in his hands.
"In case you get cold," he said.
She smiled and took the shawl. It was a warm summer evening, but she knew he wasn't worried about the shawl. He was worried about the other men at the auction. She dr.a.p.ed the shawl over her shoulders and followed him out to the car.
As they pulled up to the auction house, a black town car cut them off. She looked at Sean nervously. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a thing. A valet raced forward and opened the doors, and out climbed the Stewarts.
"Oh," he said. "So, that's what you wanted the extra invitations for."
"What did you think I wanted them for?" she asked.
"Maria, Samuel, and Sophia," he replied.
She shook her head.
"They accepted them from you?" he asked, surprised.
"Oh, they have no idea they came from me," she replied. "They think it was an anonymous gift."
His eyes sparkled, and he pulled the sports car up to the valet. As he helped her out of the car, Lawson rushed over. He greeted Sean but ignored Catherine completely.
"Well," she said. "I'm surprised to find you here given your current circ.u.mstances."
"We're not going to hang our heads just because our niece is a disgrace," Melanie snapped.
"Of, of course not," Catherine replied with a smile. "And who knows what investor you may meet today."
She looked at Madison, who was wearing a tight, red silk gown. The front of the gown dipped down to her navel, and her round b.r.e.a.s.ts looked as if they burst and put the top at any minute. Thick, dramatic makeup was layered on Madison's face, and her dyed auburn hair was arranged in a lavish updo.
"Happy hunting," Catherine smirked.
Sean leaned in and nipped the top of her ear, "Play nice."
She smiled up at him, and he offered her his arm. She took it, and he led her into the auction house. Golden light glittered from the dozens of antique crystal chandeliers that dangled from the ceiling, and an excited buzz filled the air. Couples in tuxedos and evening gowns mingled in the entrance, exchanging air kisses and waves.
"Mr. Blair," an usher greeted him. "And Mrs. Blair. Your private box is ready."
The usher led them up a carpeted staircase to a small balcony. It looked like a box seat at an opera—red velvet curtains and upholstery. A woman in a caterer's outfit waited outside the box. She held a crystal glass filled with aromatic whiskey and looked surprised to see Catherine.
"What else can I get you?" she asked.
"Champagne," Catherine said.
Sean raised an eyebrow but nodded, and the waitress disappeared. She reappeared with a champagne flute and a worried expression.
"There are three people outside who claim to be related to you," she said. "They're asking to be allowed in."
"Really?" Catherine asked. "Well then, show them in."
The Stewarts appeared between the red curtains moments later and quickly walked to the edge of the balcony to lean out over the crowd. Catherine rolled her eyes—they were so obvious. They clearly wanted some society photographs to take a picture of them in the box.
"So," she said coolly. "I've heard there's some exquisite contemporary art up for auction. Are you planning on bidding for any of it?"
Melanie's expression soured instantly, "Don't be cruel. You know very well that we won't be bidding for anything."
Catherine shrugged innocently, "I didn't know that. I would have thought you'd already found someone new to leech off of. If not, you might want to head downstairs. That dress Madison's wearing is wasted up here."
Madison cast a glance at Sean and then back at Catherine. Catherine smiled at her cousin—after the last strange few days with Sean, she wasn't worried about Madison as a threat.
"Anyway," Catherine said. "You might notice a few familiar paintings up for auction."
Lawson's eyes darkened, and Melanie's face looked pinched, but they didn't dare say anything in front of Sean. The lights dimmed, and a tinny bell rang in the distance.
"Oh good," she said. "It's starting."
Catherine unwrapped the bandage from her ankle and carefully shifted her weight onto the leg. She expected pain, but the ankle felt fine. She flexed and pointed it and then slipped on a pair of strappy white heels. She teetered backward and examined herself in the mirror. The white gown was quite simple, but it was stunning. Off-the-shoulder straps revealed Catherine's graceful shoulders and pale dcolletage without being scandalous. The dress itself clung tight to her b.r.e.a.s.ts and waist before flaring out over her legs. The skirt was narrow, though, and when she moved, the fabric revealed the outline of her a.s.s. She spun slowly in the mirror, amazed at how elegant she felt. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and she wore powder, mascara, and a slash of red lipstick. She looked dramaticlike a character in a play. Or a bride. Her breath caught in her c.h.e.s.t. Had Sean intentionally chosen the dress for that reason? She touched the simple diamond teardrop earrings and then flicked off the light and left her closet. Careful with her ankle, she moved down the stairs slowly and headed toward Sean's study. She knocked shyly on the door, and he told her to enter. She pushed the door aside and entered the room. The late afternoon sun slanted through the windows, and he sat in his desk chair, wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo. His eyes trailed up and down her body, and she shivered as if he were touching her. "Thanks for the dress," she said. "And for the extra invitations." He stood and crossed the room, gently touching her hair. "You don't have to thank me," he said. "But I want to," she replied. "Hmm," he said. He grabbed her by the waist and gently backed her up until her back was pressed flat against the wood-paneled wall. His eyes sparkled, and his mouth crushed down on hers. His left hand slipped down her lower back and cupped her a.s.s, and his right held her firmly by the waist. "Stop," she panted. "You're going to smudge my makeup." "Good," he growled. "Then all the men who look at you tonight will know you're mine." "No man is going to look at me," she objected. "Oh, you're so very wrong," he growled, claiming her mouth again. Finally, he pulled away and looked at her. His eyes were bright, and he was panting slightly. "If you show up like this again, I might have to break all my promises," he warned. Her blood went cold, and she stiffened in his arms. He smiled to show he was joking, but the intensity stayed in his eyes. She shivered, wondering what a man like him would be like in bed. A small part of her wanted to find out. "Wait," he said. He disappeared out the door and up the stairs. Moments later, he jogged back with a filmy white shawl in his hands. "In case you get cold," he said. She smiled and took the shawl. It was a warm summer evening, but she knew he wasn't worried about the shawl. He was worried about the other men at the auction. She dr.a.p.ed the shawl over her shoulders and followed him out to the car. As they pulled up to the auction house, a black town car cut them off. She looked at Sean nervously. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't say a thing. A valet raced forward and opened the doors, and out climbed the Stewarts. "Oh," he said. "So, that's what you wanted the extra invitations for." "What did you think I wanted them for?" she asked. "Maria, Samuel, and Sophia," he replied. She shook her head. "They accepted them from you?" he asked, surprised. "Oh, they have no idea they came from me," she replied. "They think it was an anonymous gift." His eyes sparkled, and he pulled the sports car up to the valet. As he helped her out of the car, Lawson rushed over. He greeted Sean but ignored Catherine completely. "Well," she said. "I'm surprised to find you here given your current circ.u.mstances." "We're not going to hang our heads just because our niece is a disgrace," Melanie snapped. "Of, of course not," Catherine replied with a smile. "And who knows what investor you may meet today." She looked at Madison, who was wearing a tight, red silk gown. The front of the gown dipped down to her navel, and her round b.r.e.a.s.ts looked as if they burst and put the top at any minute. Thick, dramatic makeup was layered on Madison's face, and her dyed auburn hair was arranged in a lavish updo. "Happy hunting," Catherine smirked. Sean leaned in and nipped the top of her ear, "Play nice." She smiled up at him, and he offered her his arm. She took it, and he led her into the auction house. Golden light glittered from the dozens of antique crystal chandeliers that dangled from the ceiling, and an excited buzz filled the air. Couples in tuxedos and evening gowns mingled in the entrance, exchanging air kisses and waves. "Mr. Blair," an usher greeted him. "And Mrs. Blair. Your private box is ready." The usher led them up a carpeted staircase to a small balcony. It looked like a box seat at an operared velvet curtains and upholstery. A woman in a caterer's outfit waited outside the box. She held a crystal glass filled with aromatic whiskey and looked surprised to see Catherine. "What else can I get you?" she asked. "Champagne," Catherine said. Sean raised an eyebrow but nodded, and the waitress disappeared. She reappeared with a champagne flute and a worried expression. "There are three people outside who claim to be related to you," she said. "They're asking to be allowed in." "Really?" Catherine asked. "Well then, show them in." The Stewarts appeared between the red curtains moments later and quickly walked to the edge of the balcony to lean out over the crowd. Catherine rolled her eyesthey were so obvious. They clearly wanted some society photographs to take a picture of them in the box. "So," she said coolly. "I've heard there's some exquisite contemporary art up for auction. Are you planning on bidding for any of it?" Melanie's expression soured instantly, "Don't be cruel. You know very well that we won't be bidding for anything." Catherine shrugged innocently, "I didn't know that. I would have thought you'd already found someone new to leech off of. If not, you might want to head downstairs. That dress Madison's wearing is wasted up here." Madison cast a glance at Sean and then back at Catherine. Catherine smiled at her cousinafter the last strange few days with Sean, she wasn't worried about Madison as a threat. "Anyway," Catherine said. "You might notice a few familiar paintings up for auction." Lawson's eyes darkened, and Melanie's face looked pinched, but they didn't dare say anything in front of Sean. The lights dimmed, and a tinny bell rang in the distance. "Oh good," she said. "It's starting."
