Bellacova’s Gallery was a lovely two-story loft off of Mountain Spring Road, across the street from Art Encounter. Grissom parked the Tahoe and turned his countenance to Sara in the semidarkness of dusk.

 

“Let me explain a few things, Sara. We are about to enter an exclusive subset of humanity not quite like any other. This is the Art world, and it’s my mother’s hunting ground, plain and simple. You and I are here as pawns for her tonight, so don’t be surprised at anything that happens around her.”

 

Sara looked apprehensive; Grissom gave a little sigh of resignation and pinched the bridge of his nose.

 

“She’ll flirt and fight and make outrageous claims, so just smile and nod. You might even look at the art if you want.”

 

“Wine, cheese on toothpicks, small talk with big names?” she grinned.

 

Grissom nodded. “Precisely. Throw in Claes, Muro or Mondrian and you’re in. Tonight’s artist is Petrov, who’s nowhere near their league. I think Mom mentioned he’s in an Annoyed Nudes period.”

 

Sara grimaced and unbuckled her seatbelt while Gris climbed out and reached her door, tugging it open for her.

 

“Oh, and before I forget—“ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

 

She welcomed his tongue into her mouth with breathless delight, losing herself in the hot, wet kiss. Regretfully Grissom pulled back after a long delicious moment.

 

“If you want me as much as I want you . . .” he muttered.

 

“ . . . Yes?” she reached for him again, happily breathing in the Cheval Noir along his jaw line but he stepped back from her embrace and cocked his head, his expression unexpectedly sweet.

 

“. . . Then let’s seriously consider leaving early. I’ve missed you.”

 

“Yeah, well the feeling is mutual, Grissom. This dress is supposed to remind you of that,” she batted her eyes at him as she tucked her clutch under one arm. He offered her his arm along with a deep blue glance.

 

“And every time I look at your back I want to lick your spine, from nape to dimples—“ he whispered, his face alternating between amusement and lust, “So I think it’s working.”

 

Sara considered this and preened for a moment as they strode closer to the brightly lit front doors.

 

“Hey, it’s not as if it’s any easier for me not to seduce YOU at the moment either—I like you in suits. A lot.”

 

He shot her a sideways glance, an interesting flicker of intrigue and desire passing through his features.

 

“Would you?” he asked softly.

 

“Would I what?”

 

“Seduce me?”

 

Sara stopped, and looked into his face carefully, not quite believing what she heard.

 

Grissom said nothing more, his ears slightly pink as he let her stare at him for a few long heartbeats; slowly a smile spread across her face, her languid full wattage one.

 

“Grissom, Grissom—“ Sara softly cooed, “Will you play a game with me?”

 

His first reaction was a tensing of his jaw, barely perceptible in the dusk, but Sara knew his face well enough to see it. She lifted her chin and kept her gaze on his.

 

“I . . . WANT to—“ the words came reluctantly from him, slow and low. She gave an encouraging nod, trying to suppress the enthusiasm coursing through her at his admission.

 

“Gil!” a deep voice cut through the night, shattering the moment. Both Grissom and Sara looked up as a compact, aristocratic man bore down on them, his laugh floating in deep rich chuckles.

 

“ Alex —“ Grissom responded with genuine warmth. He slid a hand down Sara’s spine and held the other one out to the approaching figure, who shook it heartily.

 

“You’re looking splendid tonight, your mother will be SO pleased. How DID she manage to pull you away from your microscopes and cadavers? You never come to these things—“ came the soft English accent.

 

Grissom managed an eloquent shrug that the other man understood perfectly.

 

He laughed again, a deep low sound before turning to look at Sara. “Asked and answered I see!”

 

“Ah. Sara Sidle, this is Sir Alex ander De Montavallo, my mother’s . . . friend.”

 

Sara found herself smiling down at the man simply because his entire joyful countenance demanded it. He was short and dapper, exquisitely dressed in a mahogany silk suit of impeccable cut. She noticed he had the deep soulful eyes of a Basset hound behind wire frame glasses, that his hair was a white shoulder-length mane, and that it matched the trim goatee that framed his smile as he took her hand and lightly kissed it.

 

“A pleasure beyond measure, Miss Sidle, truly.”

 

“Thank you—“ came her reply, somewhat breathlessly as Grissom’s hand stroked her bare back. Alex seemed to sense the underplay and his eyes twinkled as he ushered them through the doors and into the lobby of the gallery.

 

“Yes, well I warn you Miss Sidle, that tonight may prove rather interesting. Petrov is in a rare snit, and Olivia has her hands full trying to calm him down. The last time this happened he ate his socks and had to have his stomach pumped, all rather disgusting of course, but that’s the man’s temperament. Come, I would adore to show you off to Lyla and Trevor and Boots—“

 

So saying, Alex offered Sara his arm; she shot a look at Grissom who hesitated. Alex laughed his warm chuckle again.

 

“I’ll offer you the other one, Gil, and we can annoy the very daylights out of your mother by walking in singing ‘Lions and Tigers and Bears Oh My—“

 

It was an outrageous thing to suggest, and yet somehow perfect for breaking the tension. Sara snickered, and Grissom broke into a bemused smile as Alex held out his other arm. He shook his head.

 

“She’d never hear us, OR forgive us—at least not you and me,” came Gil’s reply. Alex gave a rueful nod and sighed.

 

“All too true—very well. I’m obliged to go help her with Petrov, but shall return in short order. I suggest the two of you go for the salmon but pass on the Brie if you can. Miss Sidle—“

 

With a courtly bow Alex dipped his head and winked to her on the rise, then briskly moved ahead of them through a well-lit front hall, surging with the crowd.

 

Sara glanced up at Grissom and he worked his jaw back and forth slightly.

 

“Alex and Mom go back a long way—about thirty three years.”

 

Sara continued to stare as they slowly walked in. Grissom looked distinctly uncomfortable and shot her a wry smile.

 

“So you’ve known him since you were fifteen? Why aren’t they—“

 

“—Married? It’s a long story.”

 

 ***   ***  ***

 

 

Sara tapped a knuckle on the edge of her teeth in an attempt to look serious as she studied the massive painting before her.

 

It was entitled, The Irritation of Anya, and seemed appropriate given the grimacing expression of the subject. Sara moved until she was just behind Grissom’s left shoulder, and she gave a thoughtful sigh.

 

“Opinion?”

 

“Petrov asked her if she gained weight,” he responded knowingly.

 

Sara bit back a laugh, lightly running her hand along his arm in a slow caress of his muscles under the cloth.

 

“That would do it all right. Is he always so misanthropic?” She let her hand linger along his forearm. Grissom tilted his head and let his glance brush hers.

 

“He’s noted for his tactlessness. Mom tells me the models all hate him, but he pays well, so they put up with it. I want you.”

 

All of this came out in a mild, chatty tone, but Sara felt the heat of his gaze and blushed slightly. She slowly withdrew her hand.

 

“Is that so?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Tell me about it,” she asked softly, studying another painting in the alcove they’d wandered into. Grissom shifted, his shoulder rubbing hers, his hand sliding with a light sensuous stroke along her spine.

 

“I want to get out of here and into YOU. Pretty basic, Ms. Sidle. I want to screw you up against the front door of our place, right under your dress.”

 

Sara leaned close and let her lips brush his ear.

 

“That’s amazingly primitive of you, Gris—and we won’t have to use a condom either,” she purred. He chuffed out a quick breath involuntarily, lashes fluttering as she sighed into his ear, the two of them standing close together.

 

“Naked in me. That’s going to feel like hot slick heaven after two weeks without you. Not making love either—fuck-ing, Grissom. Good deep slow ‘take me HARD’ fucking, lover—“

 

Sara tried to hide the tremor in her legs and looked at him, gauging the effect of her words. When he turned his face to hers, she bit back a moan at the fierce blue glitter of his eyes.

 

“Christ, Sara!“ he growled, his voice deep and slightly wild. She took a step back, licking her lips.

 

“Ten minutes more, Grissom. I need you too—“ she whispered, turning and sauntering out of the alcove, knowing he would be behind her within minutes to herd her to the car. The lovely lurch of anticipation made her giddy and she almost didn’t see Olivia wave to her.

 

Sara blinked.

 

“Tara—“ Olivia said again with a patient smile. She was standing by a display case with a ceramic bowl in it, and Sara came over to her slowly, trying to will away the flush in her face.

 

“Uh, hi. Interesting party,” Sara muttered, trying to think of something to say. Olivia rolled her eyes, fiddling with the heavy gold bracelet around one slender wrist. She was in a black sheath dress, with enormous bangle earrings of beaten gold just under her pixie cut hair.

 

“Gil alway hated dem. He and Alec used to pay poker in de back woom when I had openings.”

 

Sara grinned. Olivia looked down at the bowl for a moment.

 

“I ought to send you de first picture he dwew for me. A cwassic.”

 

“No Mom—“ came Grissom’s mild but annoyed voice. He came up beside Sara and looked at his mother. She grinned.

 

//But it’s SUCH a good story, Gil!// came the elegant signs. He pursed his mouth.

 

//And you’re going to tell it anyway, aren’t you? What did I do to deserve this?//

 

//Oh hush and make an old lady happy.//

 

//I’m adopted.//

 

//Dream on, Gil--//

 

Sara, lost in the middle of all this finger fighting looked from one to the other and Olivia laughed softly.

 

“I had taken him to tee a movie, and my son rooted for de monster of course. We came home and he drew de way de movie SHOULD have ended, complete wid dead soldiers and body parts everywhere. Wore down his red crayon completely.”

 

“What was the movie?” Sara asked, trying not to laugh at the image of a little Gil Grissom earnestly scribbling away at a coffee table in the past. Grissom drew in a deep breath and tried for dignity.

 

“The Deadly Mantis. They’re marvelous predators you know, much more intelligent than portrayed on screen and I’m still convinced it was a terrible decision to hit it with an atomic weapon—what?”

 

Both Sara and Olivia were struggling with giggles, synchronized in a perfect understanding of the man standing with them. Olivia reached out for Sara’s hand, squeezing it with surprising strength as she choked out,

 

“Tee? Tee what I mean? Onwy Gil—“

 

Before Grissom could defend his youthful artistic vision, Alex sauntered up, signing with ease, his gaze adoringly fixed on Olivia.

 

//Now now my love, you’ll frighten the girl off. Pace yourself—there are plenty of embarrassing stories to trot out.//

 

Olivia made a face, but couldn’t hold it long as she smiled at him. Grissom caught Sara’s eye and gave a long-suffering sigh.

 

“It’s time. Mom, Alex, lovely opening, I hope Petrov makes you a fair commission but I think we’ll call it a night.”

 

His mother nodded gracefully, turning her cheek for a kiss that Grissom dutifully dropped on it. She signed quickly.

 

//Alex and I are doing a late brunch at the Gilded Lily late tomorrow. Come join us if you can, Gil dear.//

 

//No promises--//

 

Alex was kissing Sara’s hand again, his basset eyes dark and smiling.

 

“Lovely to meet you my dear. I hope to see you again soon. Olivia—I think Boots has gotten into another spat with the reviewer from Modern Art—shall we go referee?”

 

They patted Sara and Grissom’s hands, then strolled off together, signing animatedly. Sara watched them with a pang of tenderness welling in her chest. She glanced at Gris to see him watching them as well.

 

“They’re amazing.”

 

“They’re plotting—“ Grissom sighed with a bemused expression. Giving a shake, he turned to look at Sara, the faintest of smiles touching the corner of his mouth.

 

She shot him a flirtatious look. “So am I—I seem to be without a way home. Would you mind terribly if I rode you—that is, got a ride from you?”

 

The warm glitter returned to his eyes.

 

“Ms. Sidle, are you trying to seduce me?”

 

“Let’s get into a nice dark car and find out.”

 
 

***   ***   ***

 
 

Streetlights flickered past in a quick strobe of white slashes through the darkness as they drove. Sara gripped the clutch in her lap tightly enough to make her knuckles white. They were heading away from the bright lights of Las Vegas into the quiet suburbs and the peaceful darkness of the night.

 

Sara tried to calm her breathing down, tried to loosen the tension that was lodged between her shoulders and thighs, but it seemed impossible to do. She was all too aware of the man sitting next to her, of the heat radiating off from him. They had barely exchanged words since climbing into the car, and yet both of them were perfectly aware of each shift of thighs, each soft breath.

 

She risked a glance at him just as they passed a sodium arc light at the corner of Sahara and Caliente and caught his profile against the darkness. Sara was struck again at just how handsome Grissom was, leonine in both temperament and presence. The light caught the planes of his face, the shadows of his lashes and nose.

 

“The warm beast of desire lies curled up in our loins and stretches itself with a fierce gentleness—“ He sighed, twisting his head to smile at her. “—Camus.”

 

There was a pause.

 

“I want to play with your warm beast of desire, Gil. Pet it, stroke it, squeeze it deeply between my thighs tonight,” came Sara’s husky sweet voice.

 

“Yes.”  He gripped the wheel a little tighter and nodded. His nostrils flared a tiny bit.

 

A simple word, but full of promise. Sara looked up the dark road, savoring the sound of it. Caliente way was a blur of dark shadows with an occasional light flickering by. The Tahoe reached the gravel driveway and Grissom turned, sharply.

 

As he turned the engine off, Sara moved, quickly. She yanked open the door and flew out, coming around the front of the car to his side and tugging on the door. Confused, Gris climbed out and she laid a hand on his chest.

 

“Dance with me—“ came her soft plea. He stared down at the palm pressed against him noting the long fingers, the tapered wrist and fine muscles in the dim moonlight. When his gaze traveled to her face she smiled crookedly at him, Grissom laid his hand on hers and tugged her into his arms, slowly.

 

“Come here—“

 

Sara slid into his embrace, molding to him, pressing herself along the wall of his broad chest. The soft merging of their auras thickened the lovely erotic tension between them, and her nervousness pooled down her spine, flooding between her hips.

 

“Night and day, you are the one—“ came Grissom’s rumble into her ear. She grinned, and they rocked gently in the darkness.

 

“Only you beneath the moon and under the sun—“ One of his hands slid along her naked back in a slow caress as the other one held her hand against his chest. Sara ground her hips a little more firmly against him and was rewarded with a little hitch in his breath.

 

“W-whether near to me or far—“

 

He slowly shifted her backwards, guiding her up the two steps of the porch as he continued to sing softly.

 

“--It’s no matter darling where you are, I think of you—“

 

Sara felt his face drift closer to hers inexorably until the last phrase of the lyric was chanted right against her lips.

 

“—Night and day—“

 

She laughed softly, overwhelmed, achingly aroused, wanting the moment to last forever just like this. Her mouth met his in a hot kiss, their tongues circling eagerly as his hands began to shift. With a groan Grissom broke away to raggedly sing again. Sara plucked open his coat buttons, smoothing her hands against his shirt.

 

“Nnnnight and day, under the hide of me, Sara, there’s such a hungry yearning burning inside of me—“ came the refrain as his palms slid up the back of her bare thighs, letting the hemline of her dress pool over his wrists. Her hands moved down the front of him, finding his straining fly and caressing it. Deftly Sara unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, letting his heavy shaft surge against her palm, eager and wet. She licked Grissom’s throat as his rapid pulse beat against her lips.

 

“And it’s torment won’t be th-th-through,” he rasped, his hands cupping her bare bottom and lifting her up. Her naked back pressed against the cool wood of the door and she gasped even as her fingers guided his thickness between her damp thighs.

 

“Til you let me spend my life making LOVEtoyou—“ came his heartfelt groan as he thrust into the silky wetness of her sex. Sara clung to his shoulders, long legs locking around him as the hard velvet of his cock pinned her. Big hands tightly cupped her bare ass.

 

“Night and daaaaayyyy—“ she whimpered as Grissom grunted, sliding himself into her, pumping hard with chafing strength that stroked against her sensitive flesh in searing passion. Sara gasped, writhing with pleasure with every thumping thrust. She dug her nails into his jacket shoulders, her teeth on his earlobe.

 

“Ohhhhhh---“ she gurgled as the sweet inferno churning between her thighs spun up through her; she arched hard against Gris, feeling her body clench hard around him. He muffled his roar against her slender neck as he erupted deep within her, and Sara cried out, aware of the hot gushes flooding her, of the wild beating of her heart that echoed his.

 

“Sara, acushla—“ came Grissom’s soft laugh a few moments later, “Are you all right?”

 

She could dimly feel his scratchy cheek against hers, felt her bare bottom in his big warm hands and the hardness of the door against her back. Sara nodded, not quite trusting her voice. She clung to him more tightly and he gave a pleasured sigh.

 

“Let me take you to bed, sweetheart. The spirit is willing, but the knees are weak, and I think we’re going to need to dip into your stash of towels—“ he told her, and Sara laughed at that.

 

“Did I mention I get really horny during my period?” she told him brightly.