Naked Canvas (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (19 page)

I liked Dominic. A part of me might have even loved him. There was no doubt that in the short time I’d known him, he had taught me things about the world and about myself that I would carry with me for the rest of my life, but I couldn’t shake the terrifying thought that being with him would mean losing myself completely. I just couldn’t do it.

My only real regret, aside from giving up the money, was that I’d never know exactly what Dominic had been up to. Sure, he told me he was trying to teach me, he told me he was trying to help me, but the one thing he never explained was why. He’d danced around the reason every time I brought it up, always shifting the focus of the conversation to something else. Oh well. It would just have to remain a mystery.

I walked to the edge of the entranceway. Another long look at the people rushing by made me feel sad. Sad for them and sad for myself at having to join them. I placed my foot on the top step and heard the whoosh of the big metal doors opening behind me.

“Leaving so soon?” a voice called out behind me.

I glanced behind me, expecting to see Dominic coming after me. Instead, I was greeted by Cavanaugh’s kind face. To my surprise, I was disappointed to see him instead of Dominic. Even though there was nothing Dominic could say to convince me to go back upstairs, it would have been nice if he had tried. Then a thought occurred to me.

“Did Dominic send you after me?” I asked.

Cavanaugh cocked his head in confusion. “No, madam, I live here.”

He emerged through the tall doors. A light blue sweater hugged his thin frame over dark gray slacks. He looked strange without his crisp chauffeur suit. He looked like a kindly father out of an old magazine.

“You live in the building?” I asked.

“Yes, on the first floor. I was just going to the store to pick up a few things.”

That made me think of all the sexy clothing and toys that Cavanaugh had purchased the day before. I noticed that he was having trouble looking me in the eye. A flush of embarrassment crept over my cheeks, knowing that he knew what Dominic and I had been doing today. Still, the thought of him browsing through bondage gear tickled me.

“Heading back to the sex shops?” I asked, grinning.

It was his turn to blush. “Ahh, he told you about that. No, I just need a few things from the market.”

“Let me ask you something. You’ve been to the fifth floor, right?”

“I have, yes.”

“So you know what kind of stuff your boss is in to. What’s your take on it?”

“Oh, I don’t like to meddle in anyone’s private affairs.”

“Come on, just between you and me. Do you think there’s something wrong with him?”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Mr. Bell has his problems, certainly, but I can’t fault him for his choice of romantic pursuits.”

“Are you serious? You don’t think he’s into some weird stuff?”

“We all have our little peculiarities.” He paused as if unsure whether he should continue.

“What?” I prompted.

“Well, even Mrs. Cavanaugh used to be fond of some light spanking every now and again, god rest her soul.” He glanced at me sideways, as if he was afraid he’d offended me.

I burst out laughing. “Cavanaugh, you dog.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t always an old man. My point is that I see nothing wrong with indulging in a little harmless fun with the ones we love.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I said. “I’m not sure how harmless it was, though.”

Cavanaugh’s face hardened. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

The concern on his face was endearing. I put my hand on his arm to reassure him. “Oh no, nothing like that. It was just intense, you know?”

His features softened. “If you don’t mind me asking, is that why you’re leaving early?”

“I don’t know. Not really. It’s complicated. Wait, did you know about our agreement?”

He nodded.

“What did he tell you?” I asked.

“Nothing really. That you’d be doing some modeling for him. That you’d be spending the day together.”

“But did he say anything about why he was doing it? About what he was trying to accomplish?”

“He did not. Honestly, I just assumed he wanted to spend some time with you. I think he likes you.”

I put my hands in my pockets and shuffled my feet. I felt an unwelcome flutter in my stomach. “Well, he’s got a strange way of showing it,” I said.

“He can be a little odd, I suppose. It’s a wonder he functions at all considering everything he’s been through.” The lines of his face deepened with worry.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” I asked.

Cavanaugh smiled sadly. “Of course. And I worry about him. He needs stability in his life.” He gave me a meaningful look.

“Don’t look at me. My life is a train wreck.”

“You have that much in common, then.”

“Come on. His life isn’t a train wreck. I mean, maybe it was when he was younger, but he seems to have things figured out now.”

“He figured out how to survive. He’s having trouble figuring out how to be happy. He spends far too much time alone. I was glad to see he had some decent company, if only for a while.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sure he has lots of friends, Cavanaugh. Rich, good looking man like him.”

“I suppose it’s difficult to understand, not knowing him like I do. Most people would never think a man like that could be lonely. They never think a man like that could get hurt.”

“I have to admit, I’m having a hard time believing it, too.”

Cavanaugh shook his head. “People gravitate to him for all the wrong reasons. They see the money. They don’t see the man. It’s led to some rather disastrous relationships. It’s made him wary of the people he chooses to associate with. Between that and what happened with his parents, he lives a rather secluded life. I think he’s afraid that everyone he gets close to will either abandon him or hurt him. Or both.”

“Why are you telling me all this? You always seemed so intent on protecting his privacy.”

“Because he would never tell you any of this himself. He may not even know these things about himself. He is an insightful young man in a lot of ways, but when it comes to his own life, he’s as clueless as anyone else. I suppose I didn’t want you to leave without knowing the full story.”

I paused, trying to process everything that I’d just heard. It had never occurred to me that Dominic would have a fear of abandonment or of people trying to take advantage of him.

“I appreciate you telling me all this, but I don’t know that it makes any difference.”

“So you’re leaving. Just like everyone he cares about.”

“Damn, Cavanaugh. That’s not fair.”

“My apologies, madam, but it’s the truth. Everybody he’s ever loved has left him eventually.”

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?”

He looked up at me innocently and spread his hands. “Of course not,” he said. “It’s just one old man’s opinion. Why, are you thinking of staying?”

I rolled my eyes and started to say no, but the truth was that I didn’t want to leave anymore. I had the insistent urge to go back to the studio, to pull Dominic into my arms, and to tell him that everything was going to be all right. What is it about damaged men that is so damn attractive?

“Look, even if I wanted to go back, I can’t,” I said finally. “The deal’s off.”

“Is that the only reason you’d go back? For the money?”

“No. I don’t care about the money.”

“Do you care about him?” he asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Don’t you think you should make sure before you leave?”

His question stopped me short. “Damn you, Cavanaugh.”

“My apologies, madam. As I’ve said, I don’t like to meddle in people’s private affairs.”

I shot him a sour look. “Yes, clearly.” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t think he wants me to go back.”

He waved my statement away. “He doesn’t know what he wants. He doesn’t know what he needs. You can show him, though.”

“You think?” I asked.

“Of course. He just needs a firm hand to guide him.”

A firm hand. Images of me ordering Gillian around flashed through my head. I could definitely have a firm hand when I needed to. Could I do the same thing with Dominic? Should I do the same thing with Dominic? It was a risk, but if I had learned anything that day, it was that sometimes we have to take risks to get what we want.

I took another look at the people passing by. I could slip right into the crowd and become one of them. It would be the easiest thing in the world, and I could put this whole insane day behind me. Or I could take the risk and go back upstairs.

“You know, Cavanaugh, your boss is a very lucky man to have you in his life.”

Cavanaugh blinked. “That’s very kind of you to say, madam.”

“I told you. Call me Angie. And I’ll give him one more shot, but if this blows up in my face, I’m blaming you.”

“Certainly, Angie. I’ll keep the car running just in case.” He walked over to the door and swung it open wide, beckoning me inside.

I took a deep breath and walked back into the building.

Chapter 20

I stood on the threshold of the studio, clutching the door frame nervously. I kept telling my feet to move forward, but they refused. I could see Dominic, but he didn’t see me. He sat slouched over a work table with his back to me.

The table was littered with tubes of paint, jars with paintbrushes sticking out of them, and all kinds of other art supplies. In the middle of that chaos sat a large sketch pad.

Dominic cradled his head with one hand while the other scribbled furiously across the page. From where I stood, the drawing looked like an intricate labyrinth of charcoal smears.

Watching him like this felt wrong. It felt like I was an intruder or like I was spying on him. The right thing to do would be to call out to him or, at the very least, cough politely to alert him to my presence, but I didn’t.

There was something fascinating about watching him when he thought he was alone. With his guard down and no one around to impress, this was the real Dominic, sitting like a brooding king locked away in his castle.

I caught glimpses of the tortured, lonely soul Cavanaugh had described. There was something desperate about the way he worked, like something terrible raged inside him and the only way to ease the pain was to transfer it to the page. An image flashed in my head of me in my apartment, pouring over books and notes into the late hours of the night. Maybe we weren’t so different after all.

I drifted silently into the studio until I stood a few paces behind him. His drawing came into focus. It was a kneeling man surrounded by swirling darkness. Leering faces with cruel eyes loomed in the shadows, as if taunting him.

Abruptly, he ripped the page out of the book and crumpled it up before tossing it across the room. With a cry of frustration, he rose to his feet and swept the contents of the table onto the floor. The sound of breaking glass rang through the studio. He rested his palms on the table and lowered his head, almost in defeat.

Acting on instinct, I stepped over to him and placed my hand on his neck. His skin felt hot and feverish. His body went rigid at my touch, as if a thousand volts of electricity coursed through him. He glanced at me and then turned his face away.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said.

“Yes, I am.”

He shook his head, still not looking at me. “The deal’s off. You left. It’s over.”

“I know. I’m not here for that. I don’t want your money.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Look at me.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Look at me,” I demanded, letting my voice ring through the silence of the studio.

He slowly turned his head. His hair hung over his face, but his angry, defiant gaze was clear as day.

“We’re not done,” I said.

He shook his head ruefully. “Yes we are.”