Sloan watched her arranging the artwork he’d purchased from her gallery on the kitchen wall. Rather, he watched her ass wiggle as she stretched to hang the item in the perfect spot. “How about here?” “Looks great cariña.” “You said that last time. Are you giving me an honest opinion or staring at my ass again, Mr. Guiterrez?” “Both.” She cast him a scathing glare. He’d only bought the art to show support and have one of her pieces to stare at when she wasn’t around. He hadn’t wanted that deep of connection with anyone in a long time. “Gah, why do I bother?” She stepped off the stepladder and moved aside. “I give up. You decide where to place this.” “You’re sexy when flustered. The abstract piece is good where you have it now. Heck, the first, second and third places were good too.” Sloan ran a hand over his hair, trying to fathom her reasoning, coming up short in the end. “You need a crash course in art and the importance of showcasing. The centerpiece of the room or hallway is the main decorative piece.”
