Then I pull away from the door and walk back to the small back room. I feel strangely restless. Frowning, I pace the floor like a caged animal. Back and forth. Back and forth. I am aware something has happened to me, but I don’t know what it is. All I know is I was a different person before the stranger walked into this shop.
I glance at the money lying on the ledge. Then I walk up to it. I pick up one bill and smell it. The scent of new leather fills my nostrils. Then underneath it, another scent floats up… him. Instantly, my heart starts racing. Who is he? Why does my body react to him in this way? I jerk the money away from me and put it back on the pile. I move away from it as if it is tainted or dangerous.
I turn away from the money, walk to my painting, and look at it with new eyes. Yes, it’s good. I know that, but it’s not worth one hundred thousand dollars. Only a fool would pay that much for an unfinished work by a totally an unknown artist, and there is no way in hell he is one. I clasp my hands tightly together.
What does he want with me?
Who are you Rocco Rosetti?
I am no longer able to paint so I switch off the lights, lock up, and go out through the back door. I get on the purple bargain bicycle that I found on Craig’s List for $35.00, and ride back to the trailer park where I live. Almost all the caravans are in darkness, except for Mirabella’s. She is an old gypsy and I think she makes portions late into the night. Once or twice I’ve run into her selling little good luck charms in the supermarket carpark. Once she winked at me and said, “There’s a Prince waiting for ya, little one.” I was afraid she was going to ask me to buy one of her good luck charms so I smiled politely and hurried away.
I chain my bicycle to the metal railing outside my caravan and unlock my door. I switch on the lamp and everything feels strange. My cozy little home feels claustrophobic and cramped. I go into the bathroom and look in the mirror.
There is paint on my face and hair, and I look a terrible mess, but it is my eyes I am drawn to. I can’t hardly recognize them as mine. They are very bright and my pupils are much larger than I’ve ever seen them. Shocked and confused, I quickly undress and shower. Under the cascade of warm water my hand strays between my thighs.
I cannot stop myself.
I close my eyes and circle my clit. I think of him, those magnetic blue eyes staring into mine as his fingers slip into me. “Autumn,” that commanding voice calls, and I climax quickly and with a hoarse grunt.
I pour shampoo on my palm and rub it into my hair. Then I bow my head and let the water pour over me. How strange. The throbbing need for him is still not gone. My body remains as unfulfilled and unsatisfied as it was before I masturbated. I know doing it again will not do the trick either. The only way to quench this… this intense hunger is to allow him into my body.
Something I’m never going to do.
I switch off the tap and get into my toweling robe. I should dry my hair, but I can’t be bothered. A few steps later I’m in my tiny kitchen. I have no appetite, but I boil some water and make myself a bowl of ramen noodles. Then I settle on the battered couch and quietly slurp it down.
Afterwards, I pull my crane blanket over me, and think of him. Those eyes. As if he could look right though me and into my soul. I find my hand straying once more between my legs, but I stop myself. I should go to sleep, but I know I won’t be able to. Not until I get him out of my mind.
I force myself to think of my painting, of my father, my mother, my brother, my to-do list, my laundry…
Half an hour later, I still cannot stop thinking of him or repeatedly replaying our bizarre encounter in my head. Nothing made sense. His appearance in the shop. His insane offer for my painting. My reaction to him.
I grab my phone and call my best friend, Sam. We studied together, but I came here to paint and she went on to Atlanta to study something technical and to do with computers. What exactly my turpentine soaked brain has never quite been able to grasp.
As soon as she picks up I launch into my story. I tell her everything that happened at the store. For a few seconds, there is only silence from her side.
“Sam?” I call.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m just thinking.” Sam is the opposite of me. She doesn’t rush in where angels fear to tread. She thinks about her every move carefully.
“Okay, have you finished thinking?”
“Maybe you’re a better artist than you think,” she says.
Sam is a total sweetheart, but I can’t help rolling my eyes at her naivety. “Oh please. He offered a hundred thousand bucks for a painting that is not even finished yet.”
She laughs. “Perhaps he has so much money he can afford to throw lots of it at anything he fancies.” She pauses, then adds dramatically. “Or maybe you’re what he fancies.”
“What man do you know offers a hundred thousand to sleep with a paint-splattered woman?”
“Maybe he’s kinky?”
“Can you please be serious?”
“I am being serious. If I was a man with lots of money, I’d pay that for you.”
“Thanks Sam. I feel incredibly valued right now, but can we please step back into the real world for a minute.”
She laughs. “Fine. Have it your way. Personally, I think very rich people are mad. Who knows? Maybe, he really liked your painting, but how could he possibly hang it up next to his Van Gogh and Monet if it was only a thousand dollars. His friends would laugh over their caviar and cocaine when they came over to dinner. This way he can boast that clever him found this unknown artist in a tiny little artist town who is really hot right now and he found her first.”
“Hmmm… I wonder if you are in the wrong career path. Don’t you think you’d do better as a novelist?”
“Well, if I was a novelist, I would say, be careful. He sounds like a dark one.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just the vibes I get from you. I get the feeling he’s disturbed you, and not just about the money. There’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “I can’t get him out of my mind and I really, really, really want to go to bed with him, but at the same time I’m scared to. There is an air of danger about him, something unknowable about him.”
“When you say unknowable, I’m hoping you don’t mean rapist/serial killer unknowable.”
“No, no, nothing like that. He is too beautiful, mysterious, and magnetic. I can’t imagine a woman saying no to him.”
“Here’s what I would do if I was you. When you see Larry tomorrow ask him all about this guy. Get all the details. If he is legit and he asks you to then go out with him to a very public place. I’ll call you while you’re out and you can loudly say you’re having dinner with him. That way he will understand that if anything happens to you, the police will be on to him immediately. If he turns out to be dodgy in anyway at all just walk away.”
My stomach churns as I say the words. “No, I won’t go out with him.”
“Why not?”
“I cannot explain it in words, but there is something about him that scares me. That I could fall too deep and never recover.”
“Wow! I’ve never heard you talk like this before.”
“I’ve never felt this way before.”
“I’m the one who is more reserved and cautious of the two of us, but you know what. If such a man appeared in my life, I would go for it. I would risk a broken heart because otherwise I would spend the rest of my life thinking what if…”
Preorder the book here:
The Other Side Of Midnight
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Thank you so much for reading my book. Might you be thinking of leaving a review? :-)
Please do it here:
Beauty & The Beast
Please click on this link to receive news of my latest releases and great giveaways.
http://bit.ly/10e9WdE
and remember
I LOVE hearing fro
m readers so by all means come and say hello here:
Also by Georgia Le Carre
Owned
42 Days
Besotted
Seduce Me
Love’s Sacrifice
Masquerade
Pretty Wicked (novella)
Disfigured Love
Hypnotized
Crystal Jake 1,2&3
Sexy Beast
Wounded Beast
Beautiful Beast
Dirty Aristocrat
You Don’t Own Me 1 & 2
You Don’t Know Me
Blind Reader Wanted
Redemption
The Heir
Blackmailed By The Beast
Submitting To The Billionaire
The Bad Boy Wants Me
Nanny & The Beast
His Frozen Heart
The Man In The Mirror
A Kiss Stolen
Can’t Let Her Go
Highest Bidder
Saving Della Ray
Nice Day For A White Wedding
With This Ring
With This Secret
Saint & Sinner
Bodyguard Beast
Beauty and the beast: A Modern Day Fairytale Billionaire Mafia Romance Page 26
