Sweet Obsession (Men of Whiskey Row Book 1) (8 page)

“Uncle Ian, you are so out of control!” As they whirled around the ballroom floor, Noelle felt a prickle of awareness go through her and felt like she was being watched. She looked around the ballroom until her eyes clashed with a pair of burning hazel ones; and time seemed to stand still. Leaning against the entry way, with a slinky blonde whispering in his ear trying to get his attention, was a tall man whose broad, muscular build was fitted into a black tux that was clearly tailored just for him; he wore it so well.

He was perfection, standing at about six feet four inches tall with short black hair that had a slight curl to it. Thick dark brows framed his hazel eyes. His sharp cheekbones, firm lips, straight nose, and square jaw were utterly masculine, making all the other men in the room fade away. And he was watching her. His eyes were roving over her from head to toe, mentally undressing her. Noelle could feel her body responding to his perusal and she shivered in Ian’s arms; stunned that a complete stranger could pull such a reaction from her.

“Are you okay, dear?” Ian asked concernedly. He took in Noelle’s flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes, and parted lips. Her attention was focused over his right shoulder.

“Who is that man? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him before,” Noelle said softly, her gaze still focused on the dazzling stranger. Ian turned to look and immediately knew whom she was talking about. The gentleman in question couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of her either. For an instant, his mind flashed to another beautiful, young woman years ago who caught the eye of a good looking man. Unaware of the danger until it was too late, Ian hadn’t been able to rescue her, and that relationship had ended in fatalities. But this man was more like his angelic mother than his demonic father, he told himself. Only good would come of it; he was certain. This time, he would get it right.

“Allow me to introduce you, my dear…”

***

The pizza was eaten, and the wine bottle was empty. They had smoked two joints on the rooftop, and now it was time to get down to the business of posing and painting. Noelle watched as Theo arranged his brushes and then adjusted his canvas in her living room to get the best light. She shifted nervously on her chaise lounge. Clad only in a men’s white dress shirt and her boy shorts, Noelle waited for Theo to start painting her. Suddenly, he looked at her with his piercing blue eyes and grinned.

“Relax. I spent serious cash on that weed to make you feel really good. You’re not going to freak and change your mind are you?” Theo asked worriedly. Noelle shook her head no. In exchange for negotiating the low price of the brownstone with his cousin, Theo had asked if he could paint her. “I see so many elements in you, Noelle. You’re complex like magic bars and seven layer dip. I’m fucking dying to see if I can catch all of them,” he’d begged. On impulse, she’d said yes. No longer under her parents’ thumb, she was doing exactly what she wanted. “Just chill. I want you to just lie back, and let me see what I can do.” His voice was so soothing.

The marijuana should have been working its magic; but instead, Noelle was even more wound up than before she’d smoked it. Ever since her meeting with Jack, she’d been restless. Noelle felt like she was going to come out of her skin; her sense of awareness was so heightened- from the sound of his deep, bourbon-soaked voice and that seductive smile. She had been aroused by his large hands moving the pen around. His fingers long and thick, were a contradiction to the rest of his appearance as they were calloused, which struck her as odd, considering any time she had ever seen him he was in business attire. What exactly did he do in his spare time to have calluses? It was odd to have so much feeling for someone you really knew nothing about.

Noelle’s attempts at inquiry were met with suspicion from her mother and a knowing smile by Uncle Ian. Everything she knew about Jack was from Google and Page Six. She knew he was from Tennessee and the eldest of three brothers. A graduate of Harvard Business, he’d started his PR firm with her godfather Ian Rusnik and their other partner Vivienne Romankov. The firm had an eclectic clientele and represented everyone from politicians, musicians, and authors, to athletes, models and T.V. personalities. Her father Senator Ronald Kramer had been with the firm since they started.

Jack, to his credit, tried to keep a low profile; but when you were the poster boy for success, sexiness and money, it was damn near impossible to do. Page Six had dubbed him the city’s most elusive bachelor since John F. Kennedy Jr. Noelle sighed glumly as she thought of all the glamorous women constantly vying for his attention. She didn’t stand a chance, but that didn’t stop her from dreaming about or longing for him from a distance.

During her father’s last campaign, Noelle volunteered at home base and saw Jack on a daily basis. Tongue-tied, she always made it a point to make sure they were surrounded by other people, and there was no direct interaction between them. Every time he saw her, he would smile and greet her, and she would mumble a greeting before quickly walking away. Why couldn’t she be more like her friends? Sidra had an easy camaraderie with Jack and always chatted with him whenever she came to the campaign office. Avery also, and it frustrated Noelle to no end that she could not manage something so simple.

At her father’s victory party, Noelle had managed to snap the perfect picture of Jack as he stood in the background listening to her father with a thoughtful expression. As soon as she moved into her home, she had it developed and framed.

“Wanna tell me about it, babe? I’m a good listener,” Theo’s cajoling voice interrupted her thoughts, and she smiled wanly.

“No, just trying to figure some things out. How’s it going over there, Picasso-ho?” Noelle teased. “Hang out of any windows lately?” Theo’s bedroom skills were legendary and had almost gotten him shot. Hired by a wealthy socialite’s husband to paint her portrait, he’d quickly taken on the additional job of pleasing the woman between the sheets. One night when her husband was supposed to be out of town, he’d come home unexpectedly. The woman liked to have adventurous sex and had insisted Theo ‘do’ her in her husband’s office. Having nowhere to hide, Theo had opened the window and jumped from the second story window and into the bed of roses below.

“Jealous much? You know if you’d let me, I could help you unwind.” Theo said slyly giving her an exaggerated wink.

“Boy, please. I’d have you crying for your mama.” Noelle rolled her eyes and turned her head away; missing the speculative look Theo gave her.

“Most women like a man that’s in touch with his emotions,” Theo murmured as he added more color to the canvas. Noelle watched his paintbrush move in bold sweeping strokes. “How’s your business going?”

“It’s going really good. Everything is a learning process. With every client being different, we just have to learn to anticipate their needs. We’ve had clients since day one, which was a pleasant surprise considering we only used social media in the beginning. Ian, my godfather, has been giving us pointers. At first, he wanted to do our publicity for free, but I said no.” Noelle laughed at Theo’s incredulous look. “I know, stupid right? I thought Avery would never talk to me again, but if we’re going to make it, I don’t want it to be on anyone’s charity.”

Theo nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. My parents were really mad that I decided to take up painting instead of following them into the world of medicine, but I just couldn’t stomach being around blood and sick people all day.”

He shrugged at her startled look. “Sorry if I’m missing a sensitivity chip, but I’d rather someone get a caring and compassionate doctor than a total wanker like me. Angle your chin toward the lamp.”

“Yeah, me too,” Noelle teased as she complied with his request. Her thoughts turned to her parents and their profound disappointment in her decisions. “Do your parents support your work?”

He snorted derisively. “Not at first, but that changed when they found out that the Surgeon General of the U.S. bought one of my first paintings. Ever since that happened, it’s been nothing but love.”

Noelle grimaced. “Well I’m glad they came around. I could offer to do my father’s next political event for free, and they would still decline my offer.”

“Don’t worry, luv. They’ll come around. Let’s make a deal,” Theo suggested. “If I’m right, and your parents do come around, you birds will do my next showing for free. If they don’t; and by the way I’m really hoping that they do, I’ll auction off one of my paintings, and the proceeds will go to the charity of your choice. Deal?” Theo looked at her expectantly as he held his hand out for her to shake.

Grinning Noelle shook his hand. “It’ll never happen, but deal. Are we going to be much longer? Not trying to be rude, but I’ve got an early morning meeting with a couple of food vendors in Long Island.”

Theo stood up and started gathering his supplies. “Yep, I’m done here for tonight. Still have to go home and shower. Got a late night rendezvous that I’m not trying to miss. She’s a yoga instructor.” The last part was said in a reverent tone, and Noelle rolled her eyes at him and slid her arm through his as she walked him to the door. She gave his cheek a quick kiss.

“One day you’ll find a woman that won’t put up with any of your nonsense.” Theo looked at her with an intensity that was gone in the blink of an eye.

“When that day comes, I hope she’s ready.
Adieu
,” he murmured and opened the door where they promptly came face to face with a seriously pissed off looking Jack Sullivan.

Chapter Six

Past

Whiskey Row, Tennessee 

 “What the fuck were you doin’ with Vlad this morning, Moira? You looked like his whore letting him grope you in front of everybody! Have you no shame?” Patrick Sullivan yelled. This line of questioning was followed by the sound of a slap and his mother’s cry of pain. Jack gritted his teeth and quietly left his bed. He and his brother had been in bed for an hour before their Pa had come stumbling through the door. Darby was fast asleep, but Jack was old enough to recognize the signs that had been leading up to this event all day. 

 This morning a heavily-pregnant Moira Sullivan had taken her boys to do some shopping in town at the General Mill Store. They’d run into their mother’s good friend Vivienne Romankov. Jack thought that next to his mother, Vivienne was the second prettiest woman in the world. She had the smoothest skin and slanted, molasses-colored eyes. Her ink black hair hung in waves down her slender back. 

 Vivienne was newly married to Alexei Romankov. The Romankovs were one of the richest families in Tennessee, and the two women had met at their mutual OBGYN several months ago. A friendship was formed instantly. Vivienne was bright, funny, outspoken, and opinionated. Moira was also all of those things- as long as Patrick Sullivan was not around. Patrick didn’t care for Vivienne and her strong personality. He also didn’t approve of the mixing of races and considered minorities to be beneath him.

 On this particular morning, Vivienne and his mother were discussing morning sickness, when Vlad Olafsson walked by. Vivienne placed a gentle hand on his arm and expressed condolences for his wife’s sudden passing in her sleep. Moira did the same, and he had gratefully hugged both women before continuing on his way. It was then that Jack noticed his father standing in the doorway of the market across the street, watching them. His ma was no fool and had quickly finished her shopping so they could head home. All day she was tense, jumping at each sound she heard outside. Dinner was served at five, and Moira had urged them to eat quickly. Afterwards, they were to take a short shower then go to bed. 

 “I wasna doing naught but comforting him, Patrick Sullivan! Fer God’s sake the man just lost his wife. I offered condolences from both of us and said we’d help with the kids if he needed. Do ya ken me? Tis all!” Moira stated defiantly.

 “And what about yer consortin’ with the likes of the communist’s nigger bitch? I done told you to keep my boys away from the spics, niggers, and chinks! This damn town’s overrun with them, and they’re the reasons I cannot find work!” Patrick snarled.   

 As he crept down the hallway, Jack could hear scuffling and his mother’s muffled cries. Slowly he peeked around the corner and saw his heavily-pregnant mother bent over the sofa while his fathers’ pale ass moved behind her. His hands were on the back of her neck, and he was grunting like a pig. Jack wanted to throw up and helplessly wished for the millionth time that he could overtake his father. Resignedly, he moved to go back down the hallway when his bastard father’s words stopped him cold.  

“Yer mine, Moira. I will never let you go...”

***

 Jack took in Noelle’s disheveled state and gritted his teeth. She was clad only in a man’s white dress shirt; her slender thighs, long, shapely brown legs, and tiny feet with red-colored toenails were on full display.