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“And,” Blake continues, his hand still holding my chin and his index finger caressing my cheek. “You are one of the most beautiful women I have seen.”
His words, spoken with utter sincerity, release millions of butterflies in my stomach and leave my heart galloping wildly in my chest.
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I manage to whisper and I wonder how much longer before my legs will simply give way underneath my own weight.
Blake chortles. His other hand now cups half of my face.
“Katherine. Kath.” The way he says my name melts the last of my resistance from me. “I mean every word I just said.”
This time his lips come for my mouth. His kiss is soft.
Slowly, his tongue pushes past my lips to find mine. A groan builds deep down in my throat.
Fling.It’s a fling, I try and remind myself.
When he pulls back, I want to protest.
“Every time I look at you, inspiration washes over me in great big waves.” He points at the picture. “This is just one of a few I’ve drawn of you,” he confesses.
“I don’t know what to say.” It’s true; Katherine the author is suffering from some form of communication block. It’s almost funny.
“From the first time I saw you I knew I needed to draw you.” Blake continues.
My eyes move from the painting to Blake and back again.
Something is still stopping me from giving in. Posing nude is such a personal thing. I cannot imagine myself parading around in front of Blake without any clothes on as he is standing, fully clothed, in front of easel and canvas, paintbrush in hand.
“Since I have met you,” Blake’s words bring me back to the here and now, “I’ve felt so inspired. I’m filled with ideas. I can’t stop painting.”
I feel the heat and color rise to my cheeks.
“Katherine,” he has taken hold of my hands. “You are my inspiration; you are my muse.”
“I don’t think Dale ever said I was beautiful or pretty.” The words are out before I can stop them.
To my surprise, Blake laughs. “Dale’s an asshole and a prick who doesn’t know when he has possession of a real diamond.” Blake plants another kiss on my mouth.
“He does not deserve what he does not value. He does not deserve you.”
I’m not sure exactly what has my wall of resistance crumble, but crumble it does.
“Okay,” I say and this time I give him a little kiss on the cheek. “I will pose for you. Nude.”
Blake smiles then, his whole expression changing.
“You won’t regret it.” He promises.
“Make sure you make me look good.” I say only to say something.
Now he pulls me into his arms and whispers into my ear.
“I can’t fix perfection.”
Chapter 16
Blake
Before Katherine arrived this afternoon, I put a bed into the studio and covered it with white Egyptian cotton sheets—a thousand thread count. They’re expensive and they feel damn luxurious.
