Tempting the Artist (9 page)

“
Thanks.” He took a hefty
swig of the water. Maybe she wasn’t the only one experiencing a
certain type of heat that had nothing to do with the temperature
inside the loft.

“
So are you ready to tell
me what happened back in New York?”

No
, is what she wanted to say, but she knew it was now or
never.

“
I can show you better than
I can tell you. Follow me.” She had her keys out and was standing
near the locked bedroom door when she realized he hadn’t moved from
his spot near the kitchen counter. They stood staring at each other
and though she wasn’t sure what he was thinking, she could guess.
At this point, he didn’t know what to expect from her. “I promise I
won’t hurt you,” she cracked and pushed the door open, disappearing
inside.

Damn.

The last thing Luke needed to do was
follow Christina Jenkins into a bedroom. Any bedroom. The woman was
like his kryptonite. It was already taking everything he had not to
pull her in for another kiss. There was no way he would be able to
keep his hands off of her in a bedroom. After the kiss at the bar,
he was tempted to pull her into a nearby bathroom to finish what
they had started. When she suggested they leave the bar, he
followed behind her on autopilot. He would have followed her to the
ends of the earth to indulge in whatever she offered.

When Christina stepped into the
bedroom, he took a deep breath and followed. She had said earlier
that nothing would happen that he didn’t want to happen. Surely she
knew him well enough to know what he wanted to happen.

He stopped short at the open door, and
his mouth went dry. This was not what he expected. Luke didn’t know
how long he stood at the door gawking at what lay beyond the
threshold.

“
I swear to you I never
lied about anything except for when it concerned my work or the art
shows.”

Luke roamed around the intimate space.
Some of Christina’s half-truths, like why she insisted they visit
so many galleries each time she visited New York came to mind. He
was sure that if he thought hard enough, other moments would
trigger a memory of when she might have lied to him.

Shocked by what he was seeing, and
unsure at the same time, Luke stepped farther into the room.
Paintings of all shapes and sizes, landscapes, abstract and even
nudes littered every available space. Some were even sitting on top
of drop cloths covering the floor and propped against the wall. But
there was one piece that drew him like a magnet to metal.
Breathtakingly striking, a masterpiece sat on an easel more
magnificent than any work of art he had seen at any
gallery.

“
If you haven’t guessed it
yet, I’m Sasha Knight.”

Well, I’ll be
damned
.

So many instances of their times
together made sense now. Luke didn’t know whether to be pissed by
the fact that she had lied to him on more than one occasion or to
bow down to her extraordinary talent. She had a gift, a serious
gift if she had created everything in the room.

He continued to peruse the
artwork.

“
How long have you been
painting?” He glanced over his shoulder, surprised to see her
standing near the door, her bottom lip between her teeth,
insecurity shining in her eyes. He had no idea what that expression
was all about, but he planned to find out before he left there
tonight. “I guess a better question would be, when did you start
working with canvas?”

She had once told him that she started
her painter apprenticeship months after graduating from high
school. But this, his gaze swept over the paintings again, this
went way beyond anything an apprenticeship could offer.

“
I’ve always been
fascinated with art, either drawing or paintings. I didn’t start
getting serious about my work until about five years ago.” She had
taken a few steps toward him, but still kept her
distance.

Luke had an overwhelming desire to
reach for her hand and pull her closer, but he resisted. The fact
remained she had lied to him. But, why?

“
When I first started, I
did one or two projects a year for fun. I had entered an art
contest just for the heck of it, and this woman called and said she
was an agent. She told me she had an offer I couldn’t refuse. One
thing led to another, and two years ago I had my first show in
Chicago.” She touched the edge of a canvas that was leaning against
a paint-splattered chair. “Before I knew it, I had completed four
shows with my fifth one only a month away.”

“
That seems like a lot in
such a short amount of time,” Luke said absently and turned back to
her work, one piece in particular pulling at his attention. A nude.
Though parts of the faces were shown, he couldn’t make out the
specifics of their facial features. Christina had used black,
white, gray and beige paint to cast a slight shadow over some of
the couple’s contours, but revealed enough of their bodies for an
observer to clearly make out what was going on. The longer Luke
stared at the painting, the more he recognized the scene. New York.
The blues of the bathroom tile behind the couple and the
rectangular rainfall showerhead were identical to the doublewide
shower in his Fifth Avenue apartment in Manhattan.

Luke rubbed a hand over his chest as
if the simple move would slow his pounding heart. The thought that
Christina had replicated one of the most provocative lovemaking
sessions he had ever experienced sent heat soaring through his
body.

His eyes took in more details. Water
cascaded over the couple’s naked bodies from the overhead shower as
the man held one of the woman’s shapely legs around his waist. The
profile of the guy’s head was visible. Luke could make out the
intensity on the man’s face as he made love to the
woman.

The painting had captured just enough
to take him back to that morning as if it were yesterday. He could
still hear the same heart-pounding music pumping through the
bathroom speakers, spurring him on as he slid in and out of
Christina’s sweet heat. Their moans intermingled with every thrust
as he went deeper, harder, rocking her body as if his life depended
on bringing her to climax over and over again. He remembered not
being able to get enough of her.

“
Is this one for sale?” he
asked, his voice raspy with desire. The passion and the intensity
between the couple leaped off the canvas. The visual combined with
Luke’s memory of that morning he and Christina had shared made his
body throb with a need that threatened his sanity.

That day would forever be engrained in
his mind. Not because of the intense lovemaking in the shower. No.
It had everything to do with the night before when he realized he
had fallen in love with Christina. Instead of voicing his feelings
for her right then, the next morning in the shower he had attempted
to show her just what he felt, sharing all the emotions that were
sieving through his veins. The memory had his body thrumming with
desire, willing and ready to pay whatever she wanted for the
painting.

Luke took a deep breath and released
it slowly, trying like hell to hold it together. Once he felt his
heart rate and that twinge of irritation for the hell he had
experienced over the last few months subside, he turned to
her.

“
It’s not for sale,” she
said before he could open his mouth again.

Their eyes met. Clearly, the painting
had the same effect on her. But no way could it mean more to her
than it meant to him. Little did she know, but the picture depicted
a defining moment in his life. The only time he had ever admitted
to himself that he was in love with a woman. In love with
Christina.

As if knowing he was about to make her
an offer of an obscene amount of money for the painting, she shook
her head no, never taking her eyes from his.

First to break eye contact, he studied
the painting again. How she managed to capture that moment – that
intense, earth-shattering moment, so perfectly blew his mind. No
one but them would ever be able to tell who the models were and
that made him realize something else. She had done the piece by
memory.

Absolutely
breathtaking
.

Finally pulling himself
away, he stepped to another nude painting of a man, leaning against
a fireplace mantle, a drink in his hand. Tastefully done, she
revealed just enough of his body but left plenty for the
imagination. And next to that painting, a naked woman holding
a
red scarf that draped loosely across her
breasts, and slid between her opened thighs. The material covered
the most intimate parts of the woman’s body, but still left enough
of her exposed to keep the observer wondering what lay
beneath.

“
So why nudes?”

“
Why not?” Christina’s
words loaded with attitude shot across the room faster than the
speed of light.

Luke lifted his hands in mock
surrender. “Hey, I’m not complaining. I’m even thinking about
commissioning you to paint something for my place. I just wonder
why the change. Your earlier work was landscapes and abstract. Then
all of a sudden, you’re doing a show of all nudes.” Again, his mind
took him back to that last night in New York. It was no wonder she
had wanted to stay longer. She, Sasha Knight, had been the featured
artist.

Sasha Knight. She’s Sasha
Knight
. He couldn’t wrap his brain around
this new information.

“
The human body fascinates
me.” Christina stepped over to another nude hanging on the wall. A
couple staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. In the painting,
the woman’s hand rested against the man’s jaw and one of the man’s
hands on her hip. “Body parts, skin tones, and even one’s
imperfections. All of it. Fascinating.”

Luke stared at the painting, noticing
the slight love handles on the male figure. The dark discoloration
around the woman’s elbow and her slightly sagging breast were real.
When he first looked at the painting, he zoned in on the pose and
the way the couple touched each other. The tenderness of the scene
so evident, he hadn’t noticed any imperfections.

A lover of art, Luke was familiar with
Sasha Knight’s work and had even purchased one of her abstract
pieces a year ago. Who knew he’d be sharing this moment with the
talented artist?

He shook his head, rubbing his hand
over the top of his hair and down to the back of his neck. Hell, he
had shared a whole lot more than a moment with her. And all this
time she never said a word. Never let on that she was Sasha
Knight.

That twinge of annoyance from earlier
slowly turned into anger. How could she not tell him? He felt like
a damn fool. All this time and he never knew. He should’ve been
able to figure it out himself. The signs were there. The evasive
responses to his questions regarding some of her travels; her
desire to visit practically every art gallery in New York, and her
obsession with Sasha Knight. He should have known.

Luke glanced at Christina.
“Our last night in New York, at the art gallery, you asked me what
type of person I thought Sasha Knight was. Do you remember what I
said?” Christina gave a slight nod. Luke turned back to the
painting in front of him.
“Like then, I
think her talents shine through in the landscapes and abstract
work, but there’s something about the nudes that reveal a different
side of her. She’s someone who pays attention to details and
there’s passion. Raw, unbridled passion seeping from the canvas. I
also remember saying that she’s someone who is clearly comfortable
with her sexuality, whatever that might be.”

“
You also said that she
probably lived in California, maybe Venus Beach.”

Luke turned back to Christina just as
she diverted her gaze to the floor, but he didn’t miss the small
smile on her lips.

“
I always thought you were
amazing. Your quiet spirit, your ability to see the positive in any
situation, and your sunny personality, but this …” He waved his
hand around the small room, “This is astounding.”

A crimson color rose to her cheeks and
that shy smile that he had missed like crazy graced her beautiful
face. Even with very little makeup, the woman was
gorgeous.

“
Thank you,” she said
quietly. “I feel alive when I paint, whether on walls or canvas.”
She lifted an abstract painting from a drop cloth laid across part
of the floor. “I use paint to express myself. When I’m happy, I
usually paint landscapes, kids, or animals. When I have a lot on my
mind, it’s abstract. The darker my mood, the darker the
colors.”

Again, Luke took in the
various paintings strewn around the room, zoning in on the ones
that were dramatically dark. It looked as if he hadn’t been the
only one
living the past three months in a
dark space
. Her mood might have been
displayed in her paintings, but he knew another way she expressed
herself. He had never been with a sexual partner who was as
passionate and free in bed as Christina. One of many aspects of
their relationship he missed.

“
What do you feel when you
paint nudes?” he asked, unable to stop himself.

She thought for a moment. “Passion.
Peace. Freedom.”