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Rob stares at my clavicle, and then his eyes roam down my chest and stop on my breasts. His pupils dilate, and I suddenly feel more naked than I am. It’s as if he’s undressing my soul with his gaze, and I’m completely vulnerable. I didn’t truly think this through—another one of my spur-of-the-moment bad decisions—but now that I’m bare, I want nothing more than for him to stare at me and paint me just as I am.
With the clearing of his throat, he pulls a chair over to the space between an easel and the sofa. Grabbing a sketch pad and a few pieces of charcoal, he moves a small table over as well and takes a seat.
Rob takes one look at my chin and shoulder and starts sketching.
I stay still as I watch him work.
Brawny fingers grip the charcoal and rub fast on the page as he looks up at me, brow furrowing and a haze of concentration and adulation. His eyebrows lift slightly, revealing a sense of intrigue and eagerness. His shoulders square off, and his chest pushes forward as he looks at me and back down at the page, over and over, his hand viciously tracing and sketching, moving the black along the white to bring me to life on the page.
There’s a natural magnetism to his movements. A fluidity that seems to pull my soul in his direction. He might be looking at me like I am the artwork, but watching him in action is the true masterpiece. His actions become more purposeful, his gestures powerful and expressive as his hand dances along the paper.
There’s a darkening to his gaze when he stares at my breasts, and my nipples harden under his stare. His legs widen as he shifts his hips and takes a deep inhale. His teeth grip his lower lip, and those nostrils flare. His eyes are on my body, and it’s quite possibly the sexiest I’ve ever felt in my life, and I’m still completely covered from the waist down.
“I have a favor to ask you,” I start.
His eyes remain fixed on the art while he simultaneously pays attention to my words.
“Thought that’s what I was doing right now. First, you asked to see my secret space, and then you asked me to paint you.”
“I need a date,” I state and watch his hand slow down considerably from the rush of drawing.
He’s now listening more than he’s working.
“Not a real date per se. You see, I’m getting an award for my job, and I need to bring a guest. I know I could find someone to go with me, but I made a big mistake. I ran into my ex and might have told him that I was living with my lover because it was easier than telling him I was still a spinster who hadn’t found anyone to love me back.”
He stops what he’s doing and looks up at me. “Might have told him you lived with your lover or youdidtell him?”
“I did. And I said his name was Rob. So, pretty much, I told him you were my boyfriend. You don’t have to go. I just thought that maybe if you did, it would save me from having to find me a man to swoop in and come to this thing with me. And pretend his name was Rob because the odds of me finding someone is slim, so he’d have to fake it. I can’t even find a decent guy to take me to dinner, much less magically find someone to play myin love with meboyfriend.”
“I have to pretend to be in love with you?”
“Just for the night. For my dignity. I know you think it’s me playing games, but I assure you—”
“I’ll do it.”
“You will?”
“I know what it’s like to have your ex look at you with pity in their eyes. I’d much rather have a woman look at me the way you are right now.”
“How am I looking at you?” I breathe.
“Like I’ve finally done something right.”
I smile bigly. “Thank you. I’ll behave.”
“If you did that, you wouldn’t be you,” he says with a grin, and if I could melt off the chair, I would. “Just promise me one thing. Don’t call yourself a spinster ever again. You’re gorgeous, brave, smart, and you have the wildest sense of humor of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“You forgot desirable.”
“Very desirable.”
The magnetic pull he has on me is heightened with the way those warm eyes hold mine in a silent conversation. We’ve found our common ground. I’m not entirely sure what it’s made of, but we’re standing on it—together.
“You moved.”
I blink at him, confused by his comment. “Huh?”
“You moved your body.”
