Rosalynn blinked at him, feigning innocence.
âWhat do you mean?â
âYou know perfectly well.
â
Given her condition, he knew better than to push his desires.
Yetâ¦
Leaning her back against the chair, Brianâs fingers traced a path from her chin, down.
âDarling, donât toy with me.
There are numerous ways to keep a man content.
â
A memory of her nearly injured hand from last night made her wince slightly.
She gently pushed him away, straightening herself in the chair.
âDo your own work; donât interrupt mine.
â
She wasnât about to invite more trouble!
Brian, chuckling, moved away to get himself a glass of water.
Meanwhile, in Keeganâs office, his eyebrows knitted together at the unexpected presence of Deanna.
âWhat did you say? Brian requested I instruct you?â he questioned incredulously.
âExactly! You donât believe it? My brother is still at his desk.
You can confirm it with him,â Deanna replied.
He did believe her; he was just reluctant.
The last thing he wanted was another altercation with this haughty woman.
Ignoring Keeganâs silent contemplation, Deanna began to explore the office.
The room was classically decorated in tones of black, white, and gray but it held a different aura than Brianâs stark office.
Several baroque-style oil paintings adorned the walls, infusing the space with an artistic charm.
Deannaâs eyes swept over each painting, the gleam in her gaze betraying her fascination.
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âKeegan, who is the artist behind these paintings?â she asked.
Despite his vexation over Brianâs unexpected request, Keegan remained calm and composed.
âRosalynn and I collaborated on these.
â
Deanna swiveled to face him, a surprised Look on her face.
âReally?â
She had been convinced they were the creations of a renowned artist.
Gazing at Keeganâs handsome features, she approached his desk, a curious glint in her eye.
âCould you teach me to draw?â
She was young, her face delicate, her skin smooth.