Free The Masterpiece (Work of Art #3) by Ruth Clampett Page A

know you’re headed back to the hotel.”
    Damn.
This stupid façade is going to blow up in my face if I leave without Max. But what can I say without revealing the farce?
    As we wait for the car in the front of the museum, Paloma slowly rubs my back and my mind reels for ways I can turn this around and go get Max. The jet lag has slowed my normally quick responses.
    “Do you want me to come back with you?”
    Why does she think I need hand-holding?
“No, I’m fine…the driver knows where he’s going, and I’m going straight to my room.”
    She smiles warmly. “Yes, you go straight to bed when you get back, Ava. We have a big day tomorrow.”
    Yes, Mom.
This woman seems to have no boundaries.
    “What the hell is going on?”
    Paloma and I turn around to see a very angry Max behind us.
    Paloma speaks up immediately. “I’m sending Ava back to the hotel. Look how tired she is, Max.”
    He glares at her hand still rubbing my back, and she immediately drops it.
    I’m silent because I have no idea what to say in front of Paloma to diffuse his anger.
    “Don’t worry, Max, I’ll get you a separate car when you want to go,” Paloma says quickly, trying to appease him, just as the car pulls up.
    “I’m leaving too,” he barks. As the driver opens up my door, Max walks around to the other side and gets in the car.
    I shrug at Paloma, and she does the double kiss thing and whispers “sorry” in my ear before I slide into the car.
    We are two blocks away before I can’t take the silence or suspense anymore. I turn to him. He stares straight ahead and the tension in his angular jaw is apparent.
    “What?” I demand.
    He slowly looks at me with scary eyes, and then slowly turns back.
    Nothing. Two more blocks of silence.
    “Will you please just talk to me, Max? What are you so upset about?”
    After a long moment, he finally responds. “You know why.”
    “Well, I have an idea, but why don’t you tell me so I’ll know if I’m right.”
    “Here, I’ll count off why I’m mad.” He holds up his hand and wiggles his index finger. “Number one, the prince of
whatever the fuck
practically ate you for dessert.”
    Okay, here we go.
    Another finger goes up. “Number two, if that fucker Diego touches you one more time, I’m going to break his fingers one by one.”
    Yeah, the man is a bit touchy.
    The next finger snaps forward. “You can only imagine how much I loved that Rico Suave waiter fawning over you. That wasn’t an accident when he brushed against your breast when he served your salad.”
    Wow, stalker boyfriend didn’t miss a detail tonight.
    “And really, Ava, did you have to talk to that collector guy so long? At that point, I started to think you were trying to provoke me.”
    And he doesn’t even know about my invitation to the estate to watch the polo match.
    He waves his hand theatrically. “And last, but not least, the Spanish chili pepper gives you a rubdown like she has her own plans for you before you sneak out without me.”
    What kind of plans? Could Max be right about her or is she really touchy and affectionate by nature?
    He folds his arms tightly over his chest and gives me a searing look.
    “You know, none of that shit would’ve happened if everyone knew you were with me. This charade is complete bullshit, and I’m done with it.”
    Damn, he’s so hot when he’s mad.
I bite my lower lip and consider my response.
    I lean toward him and speak in a low voice. “Does this mean we’re having angry sex when we get back to the hotel?”
    His fingers dig into the leather upholstery.
    “Ava.” His voice is dark and dangerous, and it makes me burn for him.
    “I didn’t like the attention either, Max. I hate this stupid situation too, and despite what you think, I really don’t like guys fawning over me. You’re the only one I want fawning from.”
    His expression lightens slightly.
    I grab his thigh right before the car pulls up to the hotel. He doesn’t appear to mind, so I