An Artist's Kiss [Dark Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Suzy Shearer

  “Would you like me to stay?”

  She could hear the concern for her in his voice. It actually gave her a thrill but still she shook her head.

  “It was just a shock, that’s all.”

  He searched her face intently.

  “I don’t know what it was about but obviously the guy’s a fool. Ignore him. He’s a drunk and doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

  She nodded, too afraid to speak.

  “Get some sleep and I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He stood in the doorway and then leaned down. His lips brushed hers ever so lightly.

  “Goodnight, beautiful lady.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Gabriel pulled the door closed and Isabella was left standing. She felt so humiliated. Why, oh why did Derek have to speak like that? He could have completely ignored her. Instead he’d ruined her beautiful night. She ran into the bedroom and threw herself onto the bed, howling in misery.

  Chapter Eleven

  Isabella adopted the pose easily. It always impressed Gabriel the way she slid into the model persona immediately her robe came off. He began laying more paint onto the canvas. Last week and on Sunday he’d got the basic shape down, now today he wanted to get some of the depth onto the canvas.

  All the time he wondered about the creep who’d insulted Isabella on Saturday. Erica told him and Ian that something had happened between Isabella and the guy but Isabella had always refused to tell Erica. In all the years since whenever his name was mentioned Isabella would withdraw into herself. Gabriel figured this had something to do with her reactions but just exactly what he didn’t know. He remembered the conversation on Saturday when he’d come back from taking a distressed Isabella to her room.

  They could hear the concern for Isabella in Erica’s voice as she spoke,

  “Whatever happened, it really affected Issie. I think it was the reason she married that other creep and I know it’s the reason she’s sworn off men since her dumb marriage.”

  “Did he hit her?” Ian asked.

  Erica had shaken her head. “I don’t think so. For some reason I got the impression it had to do with sex but like I said Issie refuses to talk about it so I honestly don’t know.”

  “That guy is a leech,” Ian growled. “No one likes him and he’s been shunned a lot. He probably only turned up to get free grog.”

  “Maybe, but did he have to be so rude and insulting to Issie?” Erica was distressed for her friend and Ian had pulled her close, holding her tight.

  “You should have let me hit him, Ian,” Gabriel had growled in anger.

  “He’s not worth it, Gabe. You saw the looks on everyone’s faces. They were disgusted with his behaviour.”

  “I still think you shouldn’t have held me back.”

  “Ian’s right, Gabe. He’s just a drunk. Still, I wish he hadn’t come.”

  On Monday he and Isabella worked together for an hour and a half. He purposely didn’t mention Saturday night. Today he’d asked her to let her hair out so he could see the way it fell. Isabella sat perfectly for him to work, just stopping for a few breaks to stretch. Each time she did, he felt himself get hard. It was as if she’d forgotten he was there.

  She’d put her arms above her head and stretch fully then bend forward from the waist to sweep her hands along the ground before running them slowly up her legs. He wished it was his hands trailing along her body, it was so sensual and exciting. Her hair would brush the floor and it hung over her body, teasing him with tiny peeks of flesh.

  Gabriel knew she just used yoga to loosen her muscles and stretch out the kinks but for him it was a complete turn-on. To distract himself he grabbed a stick of charcoal and quickly sketched her poses. This woman now lived inside his head all the time and he wondered how much longer he would be able to keep his hands to himself.

  The tooting of a horn broke the spell. Isabella quickly donned her robe as he went outside to see what was happening. It turned out to be the delivery of the Leigh Price statue. He’d forgotten all about arranging the delivery for today.

  Excited, Gabriel directed them to unload the statue and set it up on the grass area in the courtyard. He hadn’t decided where to put it as yet so having it in full daylight would enable him to appreciate the nuances in the work. When the statue was finally placed where he wanted it, he thanked the two men who had delivered it and watched as they drove out. Turning to the statue, he was about to remove the wrapping when he decided he wanted Isabella by his side.

  He went to the studio hallway and shouted, “Isabella! Come outside, please.”

  He watched her walk down the hall, tying the sash of her kimono around her waist with a puzzled expression.

  “Grab this coat, it’s cold outside. Better shove your feet into those boots, too.”

  He lifted a long duffle jacket he kept near the doorway and passed it to her then pointed to the pair of boots on the floor.

  He waited till she slid them on then said happily, “My sculpture’s here.”

  He knew he sounded excited and he was. She smiled a funny sort of smile as he led her over to it.

  “Well, here goes.”

  Carefully he removed the packing and wrapping until she was revealed in all her glory. He knew this woman. He stood staring at it then walked around it. Crouching down, he looked into the statue’s face. He couldn’t hold back the gasp. The pain, the pleading, and the shame, it was all there. He felt his heart leap.

  Reaching out, he traced the contours of the face, his fingers resting on her lips. He looked over at Isabella standing nearby. She looked pale and afraid. He could even see her shaking and biting her bottom lip. She looked as if she might faint or be sick. Looking back at the statue, he recalled the look on Isabella’s face that day he had asked her to show shame, longing, and fear. It was almost the same look. This was Isabella’s face on his statue.

  But how?

  Gabriel slowly got to his feet. He stepped in front of Isabella and she looked terrified. He stretched out a hand and gently touched the side of her face with the back of his hand.

  “It’s you. How?”

  She shook her head and went to walk away but he took her hand gently.

  “Please tell me, Isabella. How? It’s even your body.” For some silly reason he felt betrayed. “You posed for this. I thought you didn’t pose anymore.”

  Gabriel couldn’t contain his despair. She tried to pull away from him but he held her fast.

  “Please, Issie. Please tell me,” he begged, angry with himself.

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  She shook her head and looked downcast.

  “Okay, then just tell me this. Is it you?” He could hear the jealousy in his voice.

  Without raising her head she nodded. He exhaled loudly. It stunned him just how angry he felt that she’d shown such raw emotion to another artist. He wanted to find Leigh Price and tear him apart. That “his Issie” had shown this…this emotion to someone else. It hurt—hurt deeply.

  Stupid, really, because she wasn’t “his Issie.”

  He took a long breath and counted to ten, trying to get this sudden rage under control. Still, a part of him felt ecstatic that he now owned this amazing piece of art and, more importantly, that it was the only one of its kind. He dropped her hand because he could see how frightened she was. He couldn’t understand it but he knew he needed to tell her how he felt.

  “It’s okay. I’m not angry. Well, maybe a bit.” He shook his head ruefully. “No, a lot. It’s just…well, I’m jealous that Leigh Price got such an amazing piece from you. Jealous he got such raw emotion.”

  “Jealous?”

  Her soft whisper made him lean close to her. He could see her eyes were brimming with unshed tears. There was no doubt something very deep was happening.

  “Yes, my beautiful Issie. I’m jealous. I just wish I was the only one who could see su
ch emotion on your face. The only one to see your gorgeous body. At this moment I hate Leigh Price for baring you. I wanted it to be only me who could do that.”

  He watched her. She seemed to be struggling with something internal. He waited. Finally she looked up and took a gulp of air.

  “You are the only one.”

  Puzzled, he asked, “I am?”

  She nodded.

  “But how?” Gabriel was completely confused now. Maybe she’d sent him photographs to work from.

  Then in a voice so soft he had to lean down as she murmured, “I’m Leigh Price.”

  He tried to get his head around what she’d just admitted then it finally sunk in. He grabbed her and twirled her around before setting her back on the ground.

  “You. It’s you! You’re Leigh Price? Oh, Issie, I should have known you would never bare your soul to just anyone.”

  His heart felt as if it were leaping about in his chest and he swore it was about to burst from behind his rib cage. The tears filling her eyes suddenly spilt over, running freely down her cheeks. Gabriel pulled her close.

  “Don’t cry baby. I promise I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

  His happiness was suddenly overshadowed by the sobs shaking her.

  “Issie, honestly I won’t. And Isabella. Hell, Issie, this is the most amazing artwork Leigh Price, I mean, you’ve ever done. It’s heart wrenching. It’s visceral, I simply love it!”

  He held her tight until he felt her stop crying.

  “Come inside and I’ll make you a coffee and you can tell me all about being Leigh Price.”

  She gave him a watery grin and he felt so happy. He led her into the house. She’d never been inside it before and he could see her eyes darting back and forth despite her unhappiness. Isabella shucked off the coat. Gabriel had left the heating on inside the house and it was lovely and warm.

  They walked into his kitchen, a massive room filled with so many cupboards and drawers, so much bench space. He sat her down at the large island, white with grey-pink granite counter tops, and proceeded to make them both a coffee.

  “So tell me how you came about the name Leigh Price. I never even considered you could be Price. For some reason I thought Price was a man.”

  “I didn’t want to cash in on my success as a model so I decided to work under a pseudonym. Leigh is my middle name and Price is mum’s maiden name.”

  Her voice sounded strained. It was very hesitant and forced but Gabriel hoped she would soon relax.

  “Ah, I see. So now I know why you have that horse out the front. And I’m guessing this is the reason you wanted to sketch Ferdinand.”

  She nodded, gave a huge sigh, then finally spoke again and he could still hear the tremble in her voice.

  “I have a commission to make a slightly larger than life-sized Spanish bull with a naked man stretched across its back.”

  He gave her a coffee and then sat alongside her.

  “Well, you know Ferdinand is there any time you need him.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So why the secrecy?” he questioned.

  She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. Putting the mug down, she ran a finger around the rim.

  “I didn’t want to cash in on Issie the model. I wanted to earn this on my own.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly done that. I’m in awe of your talent.”

  She looked at him in surprise as she picked up her mug again.

  “But look at your talent. I can’t paint for nuts. I’ve tried, can’t even draw very well.”

  “And I can’t sculpt.” He gave her a laugh and toasted her with his coffee mug. “We make a good pair, don’t we. We complement each other.”

  Delighted when at last she gave him a genuine smile, Gabriel said, “I’m guessing Erica knows who you are.”

  “She was the one who gave me a start. She held my first exhibition all those years ago.”

  “Kind of like Ian and me. He did my first solo exhibition, too.”

  Isabella cocked her head to one side.

  “Why Archangel?”

  “You guessed?”

  “Saw the paintings on that first day.”

  “Ah yes. Well, my name’s Gabriel. So Archangel.”

  Isabella almost choked on her coffee and he grinned at her.

  The look she gave him made his cock stand to attention, especially when she said, “You’re no angel.”

  “You got that right, Miss Isabella. And when I see you I become a very horny devil.”

  Obviously shocked, Isabella blushed bright red. Gabriel studied her over his mug and he really wished he knew what was going on in her head. He wished he knew whether he had a chance with her. But even if he did have a hope there was a big question hanging over it. Would she be able to cope with the dark side of sex that he adored?

  The bondage, the spankings, the domination, the biting. He knew she’d been excited when he spanked her but how would she feel being tied to the bed and forced to obey him? Still, it was all moot. She had made it very clear that she didn’t want anything other than a professional relationship with him.

  They finished their coffee.

  “Well, can we do another hour of work, please?”

  “Certainly.”

  Together they walked back into the studio. Gabriel’s mind was in turmoil as he watched her shed the robe.

  God, I wish I could make love to her. Shit, I have to watch her from a distance and never touch her.

  Still, he settled back to work and was surprised when she pulled her robe back on. She’d had a few breaks but hadn’t bothered covering herself each time.

  Wearily she said, “It’s been almost three hours, Gabriel. I’m really tired and very hungry.”

  “Oh hell, sorry. I didn’t realise.”

  “It’s okay.”

  He watched as she walked into the little change room then he turned back to the painting. Gabriel was fiddling with one part on the canvas when she coughed to get his attention.

  “I’m going now.”

  “Thanks,” he answered, distracted as he continued to paint.

  Then he realised what she’d said and dropped his brush. She’d already reached the door when he caught up to her and walked with her to her car.

  “Thanks again, Isabella, and more importantly thank you for trusting me with your secret.”

  It puzzled him when she gave him a swift look of absolute terror.

  He explained, “Telling me that you and Leigh are one in the same.”

  “Oh. Yes, that secret,” she said.

  He could hear the absolute relief in her voice.

  Hello? What’s going on? She has a secret that she’s afraid will come out. What on earth? Is it something to do with the expression in the sculpture? Is it something to do with that prick the other night?

  “I’m going to ring Ian and get him to come over and look at my statue so I can gloat.” He gave an evil laugh, crouched over, and rubbed his hands together comically. “Bwahaha.”

  She laughed then asked, “Is he trustworthy?”

  “Ian? Hell yes, why do you ask?”

  “I’m guessing you can tell him the truth. In a way it’s a relief. There’s only a handful of people who know. Erica, Jake and of course the people at the foundry I use. The people I do commissioned pieces for naturally know but are sworn to secrecy, it’s the non-disclosure agreement they have to sign on the contract to do the commission.”

  “You mean it? I won’t unless you’re sure.”

  “Well, I guess he’s kept your secret all these years so another won’t be hard.”

  “Thank you, Isabella. That’s a great honour.”

  He opened her door and she slid in. Bending down, he said, “Can you come over tomorrow?”

  She looked up at him, “Yes. Same time?”

  “Please.”

  Gabriel kissed his fingertips then pressed them to her mouth. Delighted, he watched as she unconsciously parted her lips and touched them
with her own fingertips as if feeling his kiss.

  “Bye, beautiful Issie.”

  He shut her door and stepped back as she reversed then drove off. He walked back to the statue. Touching its lips, he traced their contour—they were definitely Isabella’s. He knelt down. Every part of her was in this. It looked as if she had poured the very real Isabella into it and cast it into bronze.

  Now for some inexplicable reason it was his and, just as she had come into his life, he hoped somehow she was destined to be his, to be by his side, to be in his bed. To share the good and the bad.

  He just needed to convince her.

  He just needed to discover what secret was so horrid that she couldn’t share it.

  He just needed to find out why she’d pleaded with the world through this statue to help her yet wouldn’t tell anyone, wouldn’t share her pain.

  He just needed to help her heal.

  * * * *

  When Isabella arrived the next day she stripped off and quickly donned her kimono. Gabriel took her into another room. More like a storage room than anything, although it was large and well-lit. Isabella saw chairs, stools, cupboards, things he obviously used as props. There was also a mattress on a base.

  “I want to try something. Had an idea in the middle of the night and wonder if it will work. I thought of looking down on the subject from above.”

  “Okay. What do you want me to do?”

  “Just lie on the bed first. The sheets and pillows are clean.”

  When she lay down Gabriel picked up two pieces of soft rope. He passed one under the bed near her shoulders and the other at the end.

  “I want to see how it will look with the woman tied.”

  Quickly he loosely bound her arms and ankles. Isabella felt her heart begin to race. Now spread-eagled on the bed, it was as if her darkest desires were coming true. Even though the ropes were only loosely holding her—she could discard them effortlessly. In her mind she felt helpless, at the mercy of the man before her. Gabriel then laid a crop across her stomach before climbing on top of a cupboard. It was set to one side and he began quickly sketching.