The Billionaire's Sudden Bride novel Chapter 17

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The Billionaire’s Sudden Bride

Chapter 17: A Private Viewing at Christie’s

Summer’s POV

“If it’s not too much trouble?” I hated how uncertain my voice sounded. “I know you must be busy…

His dark eyes held mine for a long monsent, and I fought the urge to fidget under that intense gaze. “Not at all, Miss Taylor. It would be my pleasure.”

His dark eyes studied me with that unsettling intensity I was starting to recognize. “What kind of gift did you have in mind for Mr. Taylor?”

“Maybe a pointing, or another suitable collection piece? I kept my under his scrutiny, “Grandpa George has always loved collecting art. A subtle hint about their shared interests. That should help har choose

Brandon’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly. “James.”

ice carefully casual, though my heart was doing odd little Пips is taste is quite similar to Grandpa Jonathan’s, actually.” There.

His assistant materialized beside us with that eerily efficient silence was beginning to associate with him. “Yes, sir?”

“Have Christie’s manager prepare the special collection.”

I caught the flash of surprise that crossed James’s face before he could mask it. His eyes darted to me for just a moment before quickly looking away. I offered a polite smile, more out of habit than anything else.

Brandon’s brow fürrowed slightly- the tiniest movement that nonetheless made James straighten his spine and school his features into perfect neutrality

“Right away, sir.” James’s voice was crisp and professional as he turned to carry out the order.

I watched Brandon lean against one of the display cases with casual grace, wondering how he managed to make even that simple action look like something from a luxury advertisement.

“Sir, everything is ready. James’s voice broke through my thought.

Brandon’s eyes found mine. “Please.” He gestured toward a doorway hadn’t noticed before, his hand coming to hover near the small of my back without quite touching me.

The private viewing room took my breath away. If the main gallery was impressive, this space was extraordinary. Elegant wond paneling lined the walls, providing a perfect backdrop for costly artwork. The lighting was perfectly calibrated to showcase each piece, creating an atmosphere of hushed reverence.

I was so caught up in examining a particularly striking oil painting that I almost missed the sound of the door closing. When I Tumed. I realized James and the Christie’s manager had disappeared, leaving me alone with Brandon. The room suddenly felt much

smaller.

“My grandfather has a rare early Monet in his collection,” I said quickly, desperate to fill the loaded silence. Then I made the mistake of meeting Brandon’s gaze. The intensity in those dark eyes made my pulse skip, and I quickly looked away, heat creeping up my neck. “Oh… where did James and the manager go?”

“See anything you like?” He didn’t answer my question.

“… not yet. I’m not very familiar with fine art. I hated how breathless I sounded. “Perhaps you could walk me through these pieces,

Mr. Stark?”

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Chapter 17: A Private Viewing at Christie’s

A rare smile tugged at his lips transforming his usually stern features into something that made my heart gymnastics routine in my chest. God, he should come with a warning label when he does that

do a complicated

“Mr. Stark?” I prompted when he didn’t respond immediately, trying granne how the rooms intimate lighting seemed to soften the sharp angles of his face.

“My pleasure,” The words rolled off his tongue like velvet, dark and rich with promise. A little pause, then: “Let me show you something.”

I followed him to a wall where several paintings hung in perfect lighng. His arm brushed mine as he gestured to a particularly striking plece, and I had to suppress a shiver at the contact.

“Early 18th century,” he explained, his deep voice taking on a scholarly tone that somehow made him even more attractive. “Notice the brushwork here. His hand traced the air just above the canvas, drawing my attention to subtle details I would have missed.

Focus on the art, not his hands, I told myself firmly. But it was impossible not to notice how those elegant fingers moved with such precision, how his whole demeanor shifted when discussing the artwork.

“The artist was relatively unknown in his time,” Brandon continued, but his technique was revolutionary. See how the light fall across the landscape? He leaned closer. “It creates a depth that was unusual for that period.”

“It’s beautiful,” I managed, though I wasn’t entirely sure if I was talking about the painting of the way his eyes lit up passion as he explained its significance.