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Griffin rests both of his hands on the edge of his desk and leans forward. He looks like an animal studying its potential prey. His tongue darts out to wet his full bottom lip before he finally speaks to me. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Chapter 14

Griffin

I know exactly why Piper Ellis is standing in my office in a gorgeous red dress. Her boss shared the good news.

I spotted Piper’s drawing on display when I walked through the gallery on my way up to the studio for class last night. It caught my immediate attention because on that massive wall of framed sketches, it was the only one that showcased the nude body of a woman.

I went back this morning to buy it. It’s an intriguing piece.

Her gaze darts around my office, before it lands on the drawing in question. It’s now hung above a brown leather couch in a seating area I reserve for client meetings. I had the maintenance staff take care of it immediately after I arrived here from the gallery.

“You bought my sketch,” she says quickly as she looks back at me.

“You’re welcome, Piper.”

She holds her clutch purse close to her stomach. “Why did you buy it?”

I don’t move from where I’m standing even though I want to stalk toward her. I don’t trust that I won’t reach out to touch her. “I view it as a solid investment.”

That lures her two steps closer to me. “How so?”

“You’re obviously talented.” I stand up straight shoving my hands into the front pockets of my pants. “The value of that piece will only increase, no?”

She looks at the framed sketch again. “It will. I’m still surprised that a man like you has any interest in art at all.”

If it’s an insult, she’s delivered it with a small smile. I push for clarification because the cat and mouse game we’re playing is making me hard. “A man like me? Expand on that.”

She closes the remaining distance to my desk with several sure steps. “Your office is devoid of any emotion, except for my sketch which you only bought today. Typically, people who appreciate art do so because they see something in it that others don’t.”

“I see a beautiful woman.” I nod toward the sketch.

She glances at it before her gaze falls to the floor. “I see more.”

I round my desk at a leisurely pace until I’m standing behind her. She doesn’t move to turn. I lean forward so my breath whispers over her long slender neck. I want to pull the pins from her hair and watch the brown waves tumble around her shoulders, but I bite back the u

rge. “Tell me what you see.”

She looks to the side. It gives me a perfect view of her profile. Small nose, soft angled brow and a set of perfectly plump lips that would feel like heaven wrapped around my dick.

“I see vulnerability.”

So do I when I look at her.

“What else?” I question as I inch closer to her back.

Her eyes dart to mine before she skims the sketch again. “Pain. Look at her face. You see that she’s been hurt.”

I close my eyes briefly. I know all too well what pain looks like. I see it every morning when I look in the mirror.

“She wants to love herself but she can’t.” She slicks her tongue over her bottom lip. “She’s trying to hide her imperfections. That’s why she has her arms draped over her stomach.”

I take another look at the drawing. The woman in it is stunning. Most people who took a quick glance at the sketch would consider her body perfect. “Did she tell you all of this when you drew her?”

That turns her on her heel until she’s facing me. She looks up. “No. I felt it when I drew her. I see it now when I look at the sketch.”

“What do you see when you look at me?”

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