Runaway Royal
Page 5
“I know.” His muse could be fickle. When the muse decided to move on, he did. Zara didn’t strike him in the same way the others had, though. He wanted to spend time with her without art being in the middle. He liked touching Zara and the innocence in her eyes. She wasn’t like other girls. She didn’t seem to be in the modeling game for the cash or anything else. He doubted she’d ever posed for anyone before. Maybe she didn’t need the money or she genuinely liked art. He’d have to find out.
“You don’t deserve her,” Missy said. “You deserve to be treated the way you treat girls—like they’re not important.”
He groaned and faced her. She had the wrong idea and was hurting, but he hadn’t done anything to hurt her. “Wait.”
“I touched a nerve, didn’t I?” She smiled and her eyes narrowed. “I thought so.”
“Actually you did, but you’re not telling the truth. We didn’t date. I told you right up front that I wanted a model and nothing more. You blew things up in your mind, making us more than two people involved in making art. I never saw you in a romantic way and I tried to be honest with you. You refused to hear me,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Does she want to sleep with you?”
“I don’t know.” He’d thought long and hard about that very question and his answer. Part of him wanted to jump into bed with her right now. The rest of him thought he should keep some separation. Too bad his heart wanted Zara more than his head wanted to resist.
“Will she still like you if she refuses to sleep with you? Will you keep her around?”
“That’s not a fair set of questions.” He couldn’t answer for Zara and yeah, he would keep her around. He’d become friends with her and enjoyed her company.
“Why isn’t that fair?”
“You’re comparing whatever might happen with her with what happened between you and me. “I never planned to sleep with you—like I always said.” He tucked the sketchbook back in his bag. He’d jot the ideas down later. “We did great work together, but I need to create new art. There’s nothing wrong with us as people, but as lovers, it won’t happen. I need to go in my own direction.”
“Without me?”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t be plainer.
Missy sighed. “If you change your mind, you know where I am. Good luck with her, but I know it won’t last.”
“Thanks, Missy.” He still considered her pretty and smart. He appreciated the caution in her words, but she’d irritated him that she thought so little of him.
He debated his next move. Stay in the garden and try to sketch? Or take a walk for a while to clear his head?
He sighed. He should work on his plan for his project. Before the end of the week he was supposed to turn in the rough outline. The general structure was there, but he needed to fortify his proposals. He’d walk with Zara later. Right now, he’d draw and organize.
Luke opened his sketchbook to his second drawing of Zara. He’d captured her image from his memory and swore he’d messed up some of the details. Still, he couldn’t help but smile. She called to him and stirred his soul. He’d never be the same and the art he’d create with her would make his career. He just knew it.
He remained in the garden until six-thirty then closed his sketchbook. His hand ached from furiously scribbling notes and his quick drawings to capture his ideas. No matter how fast he worked, he couldn’t keep up with his own mind. The ideas came pouring out of him because of Zara inspiring him. He couldn’t wait to see her. His phone beeped and broke his concentration.
He checked the notification—a class update for Painting VI.
He read through the updated project description. According to the plan, the class would only meet once per month until December and he was expected to produce four completed canvases, all with the same model. A series.
He could do that.
He swiped through to the homepage of his phone and accident tapped the photo album app. A photo of Jenna came up. His heart squeezed. He should delete the image because she didn’t love him. She’d moved on and was married now. He should look forward and not back, too.
At one time, he’d told himself he kept her photo around to remind him of his past bad choices, but part of him didn’t want to admit he’d failed.
Things needed to be different this time. He had Zara and a reason to work harder.
He tapped delete and removed the image. No point in living in the past.
“Hi.” Zara waved and walked up to him. “Have you been waiting long? I’m sorry.”
“No need.” He put the phone away. “Good class?”
“Yeah. I got my first piece of brass and learned how to saw it into strips. I’m making a series of rings. I’ll never be able to wear them because the brass reacts on my skin, but they’ll be cool—I hope. I’m getting better with the saw, but I’m unsure of the welding torch. Oh well, I’ll manage.”
“Soldering iron.”
“Yes.” Her eyes lit up. “I knew I’d get it mixed up. Good thing there isn’t a test.”
“It’s all new and you’re expected to be a bit turned around.” He gathered up his things. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” She fell in step with him. “I met someone in class, too.”
Jealousy hit. He’d thought he and Zara had something growing between them. He had to be cool about the prospective adversary for her attention or he’d push her away. “Yeah? Nice guy?”
“He seemed so.” She stuck her hands in her shorts pockets. “I’m going to introduce him to Corinne.”
“Corinne?” Thank God. “I got the impression you were trying to say you’d found someone for you.”
“God, no.” She laughed. “I’ve got enough problems. I don’t need a boyfriend.”
He’d like to change her mind on that.
“But Corinne needs someone. She’s lonely and she’s never had a boyfriend. Never.”
“Have you?” He opened the door to the student center. “I thought we’d get something down at the Hive. There are booths and it’s sort of private so we can talk.”
“I’ve not visited the Hive. Actually, I didn’t know there was such a place on campus.” She grinned. “So thanks!” She threaded her arm around his. “You don’t have to be so nice to me because I’m modeling for you. Be yourself.”
“I am.” His self liked and wanted to be nice to her. He escorted her down to the lower level of the building where the Hive was located. He liked how she held on to him. Having her beside him reminded him of escorting a grand lady somewhere. Who was he kidding? He had a lady with him. She was every bit class and grace.
“You’re too good to me.” She bumped shoulders with him. “I appreciate it because you’re the one who makes me feel like I belong here. You make me feel special.”
“You are.” He opened the main door to the Hive. “We order first, pay, then pick the food up and select a table.” He nodded to the menu on the wall. “Order whatever you want. My treat.”
“I’ve never been in a place like this. I’ve only eaten in sit-down restaurants with full attendants.” She stayed beside him and seemed to squeeze right to his side. “What are you getting?”
“A burger, fries and soda.” He should get water, but he’d rather switch it up right now. “You’ve never gone to a fast-food joint?” Not that this was fast food, but whatever. Close enough.
“I’ll have that, too. I haven’t had a burger in five years,” she said. “Since a visit to Colorado with my parents, but that place had tablecloths, attendants and a sommelier.”
“Oh.” A sommelier? He should ask more questions, but maybe she was pulling his leg. He placed the order and paid, then gestured to the waiting area. “Thanks,” he said to the attendant. He turned his attention to Zara. “Were you a vegetarian?” Her dietary choices weren’t his business, but the question came out faster than he could take it back.
Her eyes widened. “No. It just wasn’t served…in my household.” She paled. “Yeah, not in our house.”
“This is perfect.” She slid into the curved booth and after a few minutes, he joined her with their food.
She sat right beside him. “You probably think I’m strange, not eating hamburger.”
“No.” He withdrew his sketchbook from his bag. “You’re fine.” Sure, he had a bunch of questions, but everyone had different experiences in life.
She placed her hand on the book. “Corinne likes you.”
“I know.” Her quick-turn confused him. He frowned. “Okay, but I’m not into her. She’s cute, but she’s not my type, if you’re trying to hook us up.”
“I’m not and I didn’t think so.” She unwrapped her burger.
“Do you want me to be interested in her?” He stuck his straw in his cup lid.
“It might be better if you were.” She shrugged.
“Why?”
She didn’t touch her food and seemed to recoil from him. “You don’t want me. I’m not right for you.”
He frowned again. He wasn’t liking the way the conversation had gone. “Because you’re going to model for me? That doesn’t matter. I’ve got plans and we’re going to create fantastic art. I’m excited to get started.”
“You are?” She toyed with her fries. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” He forgot about his food and opened his sketchbook. “See?” He pointed to his various ideas and explained his plans. “I have this vision of you on the bed, you’re swathed in the sheet, but very naked underneath. Your hair is loose and you’re relaxed. The lighting is soft and it’s a romantic feel. Then the next one, your back is to the viewer and the lighting is more in front of you, outlining you. You’re reading something, but it’s not clear to the viewer what you’re reading—could be a book or a love letter. The position of your body tells the story. You’re hurting and sad because your lover has left. How long? The viewer doesn’t know and has to read that into the painting.”
“Wow.” She nibbled on the fries. “Tell me more.”
“There has to be four paintings, so I’m thinking the next one involves you standing before the window, but we’ll set it up so that you’re actually in front of the mirror. You’ve got the sheet around you and you appear to be pining for your lover. Maybe you’re waiting for him to arrive for a tryst. Maybe you’re watching him leave.”
She wiped her hands and touched the corner of the book. “What about the fourth one?”
He fortified himself. “For the last in the series, you’ve got flowers around. Sort of scattered, like maybe the vase was thrown or the flowers fell from the sky like leaves. You’re on the bed and appear to be sleeping. There’s a letter beside you and the viewer doesn’t know what it says. Are you deep in slumber? Has your lover left and you’ve cried yourself out? Or is it something stronger? You’re thoroughly loved and exhausted.”
“Or dead.” She met his gaze. “I’m bereft because my lover only wanted to use me. He’s gone and I’m inconsolable from being victimized. Instead of facing my problems and family, I’ve done my version of running away—for good.”
She understood far better than he could’ve explained the situation. “Yes. What do you think?”
She traced her finger along the line of the quick sketch of her on the balcony—the one from his memory. “You drew this.”
“You captivated me.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. Sparks shot from his fingertips to his heart. He wanted to kiss her and being with Zara felt right. She could be a partner, not just a model or the means to stoke his muse.
“I did?” She stared at him and her lips parted. “Me?”
“You.” The electricity between him and Zara swelled, making him forget about his dinner.
“Can we start this tonight?” she asked. “Like soon?”
She’d scrambled his brain. “Huh?”
“Let’s take the food to your apartment and start tonight.” She placed her hand on his thigh. “I want to.”
“Zara.” Things were happening at breakneck speed and in the way he wanted, but he needed to be sure this was what she wanted. “Slow down.”
“I’m not going too fast.” She nodded. “I’ve thought this through and I want to get started. Take me to your apartment. I want to pose for you. Nude.”
Hell yes.
Chapter Five
She’d said the words out loud. Holy shit. As much as Zara feared he’d turn her down, telling him what she wanted felt right. She wanted to pose. She wanted to explore her life and sexuality, too.
“Don’t you want me to model for you?” Crap. He might be changing his mind. She hadn’t thought of that. Things were going so well.
“I do.” He grasped her hand and tucked the food into the carryout box. “First, do you have anything to do tonight? I don’t want to keep you from your work and guarantee this will take a while.”
“I have schoolwork, but nothing I need to complete right now,” she said. “I’ll tell you if I have a conflict.”
“If you have things to read, then I can incorporate that into the painting—I’ll focus on another portion while you get your stuff done, then return to that part later.” His eyes flashed. “You’ll tell me?”
“I will.” She helped him gather the food up and carried the soda cups while he took care of the box. Within ten minutes, she and Luke were back at the apartment building.
Her heart hammered. She wasn’t exactly wearing something sexy beneath her shorts and T-shirt. Damn. She should’ve worn something silky instead of sensible cotton. Still, she’d have him alone. She could test her allure. If she managed to turn his head, maybe she’d get modeling and life experience. She wanted to be kissed well, just like on her list. She wanted him to desire her. No one craved her for her own merits. They wanted the title she possessed and the money she might one day inherit.
She followed him into the building to his floor. The units were closer together and the hallway brighter. She hoped she didn’t seem nervous and cause him to change his mind. She ducked into his apartment once he unlocked the door. The space was much smaller than her suite.
“This is my place.” He closed the door behind her. “It’s not exciting, but it works.”
She glanced around the room. There wasn’t any separation between the kitchen, living room and bedroom—just one big space. The only room with some privacy was the bath. Canvases had been propped against the wall and an easel faced the window. A television tray held bottles and tubes of paint. A variety of paintings and drawings cluttered the two-seat brunch table. Books lined the lone shelf and photographs covered the walls. His desk seemed to sag under the laptop, camera and lenses, plus the tablet and larger monitor. He had enough space for two people, but the fit would be tight.
“Where do you want me?” she asked. “Which one do you want to work on first?”
“Here.” He placed his bag on the armchair. “Sorry.” He withdrew his sketchbook. “I see you on the bed, first. You’re reading and tangled up in the sheet.” He pointed to the drawing. “Like this.”
She nodded. “I can do that.” She’d posed for a few royal portraits, but never nude. A thought popped into her mind. If she had another royal photograph taken, she wanted him to do it. Dramatic lighting, something in black and white…very glamorous, but stark. She considered the pose he wanted right now. He’d have a sheet around her enough that nothing showed unless she wanted him to see it. “I’ll get undressed.”
“Sure.” He rubbed his hands together. “Let me draw the blinds. I want the late-day sun in here. I’ll put supper in the fridge, too.”
“Slow down.” She touched his arm. “You’re as nervous as me.”
He sighed. “I am. You’re going to be vulnerable and I’m scared you’ll change your mind. I want you to be relaxed.”
“I
will be.” She smoothed her hand over his chest. She’d seen him without his shirt and admired his body. Touching him was just as exciting as looking. So sexy, he stole her breath. “Oh boy.” She couldn’t think straight. “You should strip to your underwear.”
“Zara.” His eyes widened, then he smiled. “Yes. If I expect you to be vulnerable, I should be, too. You’re smart.”
She caressed his pec for a moment longer, pleased when his nipple pebbled under her touch. When she let go, she missed his warmth. “Be right back.”
She ventured into the bathroom and closed the door. Holy hell. What was she thinking? She wanted to be naked with him right now—that was what she was thinking. Her mind raced. Nude. With him. She removed her shirt and chilly air caressed her fevered skin. She’d never felt so alive before. She never wanted someone as much as she craved him.
Zara unzipped her shorts and shoved both them and her panties to the floor. Her nipples beaded. No turning back now. She removed her running shoes and socks, then her bra. Her body tingled and heat engulfed her. She wished she’d done more with her hair than the simple ponytail.
She ignored her fears and grabbed the robe from the back of the door. She covered up, then ventured out of the bathroom.
“Hi.” Luke stood with the sheet and arranged the bed. True to his word, he wore nothing but his boxer briefs. When he twisted and flexed to make the bed, he left little to the imagination.
Damn. Her hands trembled. “Hi.”
“Can I do one thing?” he asked. “Please?”
“Sure?” She left the robe open. No one, save for her lady, ever saw her naked. She wasn’t permitted to wear a bikini when the family went on holiday. At least she’d shaved the night before. The robe gaped, giving him a view of her cleavage and her pussy.
“Wow.” He loosened the elastic in her hair, then ruffled her tresses. “Yes.”
“Good?” Did she measure up?
“Very.”
“I hope I match up to your vision.” She dropped the robe, revealing herself. Time for the ultimate appraisal or rejection. She braced herself for his comments.