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ChapterTwelve
Sometime in the middle of the night, London shifted to roll over, but something heavy was on top of her. Ezra’s arm had her pinned at the waist and his leg weighed down hers. Having sex with Ezra had been a nice break. Between that and her outing with Nikki, she was feeling more like herself. She carefully slid out from under Ezra and pulled on a T-shirt.
The room was too dark to see much more than his hulking form taking up more than his share of the bed. His share? She needed to stop thinking like that. If she was lucky, she might get lucky with him another time or two, but then they were back to their regular lives.
Like she’d told Nikki, she barely knew him. The little voice in her head told her that some of the conversations she’d had with him over the last few days were more meaningful than many of the ones she had with her own family. But it shouldn’t matter. She couldn’t start a relationship until they were done with the forgeries.
Look what happened with Mia falling for an outsider. She had to walk away from her plan. While London enjoyed the money she made from this project, and technically, she could walk away easier than Mia had, she wanted to see it through. She wanted to make these men suffer at least a little, even though she didn’t know anyone personally affected by the scheme.
She poured herself a cup of wine and sat on the floor with her pencils and sketchpad. Since Ezra was asleep, she put on her headphones and went to work. Just to get it out of her system, she allowed herself one full drawing of Ezra. She sketched fast, her pencil scratching the paper.
She drew him standing in her bedroom staring at her when she’d dropped her dress. The look on his face was raw and real. More than attraction and when he began to touch her, she felt worshipped. One drawing quickly spun into two because she wanted to capture his body in its naked glory. When she’d thought of him as beefy, it was an apt description.
He wasn’t the toned, defined muscles of models; he was slabs of steel bulky under his skin. He’d played her body like she was a blob of glass. He’d worked her over until she was molten and pliant.
Once that was out of her system, she got to the real work. She had to get the Taggert and Casey paintings done. Given that Nikki had cased out the Peters’ house to check on the Taggert, London guessed that would be their next job.
And the tree topper, of course. With any luck at least one of her reproductions would come out of the annealer in one piece. Bruce Moore’s party was next weekend. She’d have to move fast to get the fake diamonds on the topper.
For now, she turned her attention to Taggert’s nature scene. Taggert was one of those artists who painted heavy. Thick paint in muted colors, applied with a knife instead of a brush. She’d done her research and knew enough about Taggert’s style to start, but she’d been procrastinating.
Time to just start. She got out her tubes of acrylic paint and mixed the colors she’d need. She had an image of the original on her tablet on the table beside her easel. As she began applying the paint, she had to remind herself to be patient and not make it too thick on the first pass. Doing so might make it impossible to fully dry.
She had no idea how long she worked but movement from the corner of her field of vision caught her attention. She yanked off her headphones as Ezra walked up, wearing nothing but his jeans. Unbuttoned.
“Sorry. Did I wake you?” she asked.
“No. It was so quiet I thought you snuck out.”
“Of my own place?”
“That’s why I came looking for you.” He walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the side of her neck and then stared at her painting. “You don’t strike me as a nature artist.”
“I use commission work like this to practice my skills.” The lies came too easily. This was why they had to be casual. She’d hate herself if she had to lie to someone she loved.
Love? What the hell, brain?
“Going to be working long?” he asked.
“Not sure.”
“Want me to go?”
She should say yes. Make a point of this being casual. But instead, she said, “You can stay. There’s an open bottle of wine on the counter if you want some.”
He kissed her neck again and flexed his fingers around her before letting her go. He went to the counter and picked up the wine. “Glass?”
“Coffee cups next to the sink.”
He chuckled.
“Are you making fun of my fine stemware?”
He turned with a mug in his hand. “I’m no etiquette expert, but I’m pretty sure it needs to have a stem to be called stemware.”
“Just be glad I’m willing to share my cheap wine with you.”
“No wine glassandthe alcohol is cheap?”
