[Elena's POV]

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. I needed to fix this. I needed to make it sound like business.

"I mean..." I stammered, my eyes darting away from his intense blue stare. "I was thinking about you... and the deal. The paintings."

The light in Noah's eyes dimmed instantly. The surprise vanished, replaced by that familiar, cold boredom. His hand dropped from my chin.

"The paintings," he repeated. His voice was flat.

"Yes," I lied, talking fast. "It's Thursday, Noah. I... I did the ...