he smiled, eyes lidded with desire and held her close to his side as he ushered her in, headed for the large gallery next to his bedroom. Inside, paintings of several kinds, of all kinds, really, hung.
"There, the last two, those are from New Orleans."
he turned her toward them, then snapped his fingers, as if he had forgotten.
"Would you like a drink?"
He gestured toward the sidebar, well stocked, including some of Belladonna's old favorites.