But as I covertly watched him through my dark sunglasses, it seemed more and more likely that he was looking at me, or at least at the cabana.
Since he was watching me, it seemed only fair that I got to look at him too. He was shirtless, with skin that looked permanently tanned and dark, black, shaggy hair that hung into one eye like a sexy Latin singer. Even from as far apart as we were, I could tell he was ripped. He was built like a superhero, like he spent half his life in the gym. And the subtle hint of a beard accenting a strong jaw and drawing attention to his firm, but full lips.
It was hard not to imagine him like the main character from my romance novel, all possessive and handsy. The fantasy playing in my head was far better than reality would ever let me have. The ache and need of wanting to be touched, brought to orgasm, and desired was too palpable with a hint of a dreamboat eyeing me from a distance. Goodness, it had been too long since I’d been with someone. Long enough to almost believe that sex could be like it is in the books—full of need, lust, and an unbridled desire to please the woman, no matter how long it took.
Mentally shaking the thoughts from my head, I got up and strode over, doing my best to keep my shoulders squared and my head held high, even though walking on the sand made it all that much harder to keep my balance or any kind of confidence like a Baywatch actor.
“Excuse me.”
He looked up, and for a second, I almost forgot why I was over there. No one had the right to have such soulful, deep brown eyes. Or just the right smattering of chest hair covering such strong, firm pecs.
He reached up, fidgeting with his ear, before saying, “I’m sorry?”
Oh, god. He was probably listening to music. He probably hadn’t been looking at me at all. What the hell was I doing over here?
“Were you watching me?”
His lips quirked up into a half-smile before he turned his sketchpad out so I could see it. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad artist habit. You just looked so serene over there, so perfect, I had to capture it.” His voice was a rich, deep baritone and lilted with almost a faint hint of an accent I couldn’t place.
And the sketch he was working on, if I could even call it that, was breathtaking. It looked nothing like any photograph I’d ever seen of myself, and I was half convinced he’d been looking at someone else or had smoothed out my less favorable areas.
I couldn’t stop gaping at the picture with awe. “You were drawing me?”
“If I’m honest, I was hoping I’d get to see you again. When I saw you in the lobby yesterday, I wished I’d had my camera. But drawing you in person is so much better.” He smiled and turned the sketchpad back toward himself for a second, picking up his pencil and scribbling along the bottom corner before he tore the page out and handed it to me. “Since I didn’t ask permission, perhaps you’ll accept this and my apologies if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable.”
None of this made any sense in my head. He drew me. Me. And made me look like a goddess. Not like the beached whale or something equally unflattering.
“Why?”
“Why what?” He tilted his head at me, and once again I wanted to get lost in those soulful eyes.
“Why me? What made you want to draw me.” I gestured vaguely at the rest of the beach, where there were women in bikinis, men with six-packs, even adorable little kids. Any of whom I would’ve thought would make a better subject than me.
He set his sketchpad aside and smiled up at me. “I’m Giovanni.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” I crossed my arms over my chest, careful not to crinkle the drawing in my hand. “Why were you drawing me, Giovanni?”
He licked his lips as his eyes slowly dragged down my body and back up again. “You inspired me. And not just because you’re gorgeous, though I have to admit I certainly liked tracing over your curves. You caught my attention and inspired me to draw you. It’s something that hasn’t happened a lot recently. I really didn’t mean to be rude about it.”
I had to admit, the way he said it, it was hard not to believe him. But it still didn’t make a lot of sense. “Helena.”
“A woman worthy of the name.” His tongue wet his lips, drawing my attention to his mouth as he asked, “Would you let me draw you more?”
I pursed my lips, studying him carefully. He didn’t seem like a creep. Even though he was sketching a stranger at the beach. “I’m going for a swim. Keep this safe for me?”
I handed the drawing back to him, figuring it was more likely than not that both the artist and the art would be gone by the time I finished cooling off. And if they weren’t, well, at least I’d have a little time to consider my next move.
“Nothing will happen to it, I assure you.” He smiled as he reached up again, fussing with his ear once more.
Assuming he was listening to music or something, I left him to it and headed down the beach, still a little in awe of the fact that he was drawing me. More than that, it was the way he saw me. Like I was soft, feminine beauty, not rolls and cellulite.
The ocean was cool and refreshing; just what I needed to clear my head. I waded for a while, enjoying the feeling of lightness, like a mermaid, as I bobbed up and down in the waves. My gaze kept drifting over to where Giovanni sat on the beach. He still had his sketchpad out, but he wasn’t drawing as quickly anymore. He also wasn’t watching anyone else.
Almost as if he really had been enamored with just me.
I dove under the water and came up again, and, as if he’d been a figment of my imagination, he was gone.
I hurried back to where my flip flops were still sitting on the sand and looked up and down the beach for his shaggy black hair. What color swim trunks had he been wearing? Why hadn’t I noticed anything more than his chest and arms? And those eyes…
He was nowhere to be seen, and as I made my way back to the cabana, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d imagined the whole thing. It wouldn’t have surprised me in the least if the heat and the sun had led me to hallucinate the whole thing.
Honestly, that made more sense than a guy who looked like that having any interest at all in a woman like me.
But tucked into my e-reader was a note.
Helena,
I had to go, but I want to draw you again. I’m dying to know what’s going on in that head of yours. Meet me at the hotel bar at nine tonight if you want your drawing back. Or just want to talk to me more too.
Giovanni
With a smile, I carried my stuff and my note back to my room, knowing I needed to get ready for my sister’s dress appointment, wondering idly what on earth I was going to wear to meet up with Giovanni again.
Daphne and Marcus were already in the lobby when I got downstairs, wrapped around each other. She looked up at him like he was the center of the universe, like he was a force stronger than gravity. I was incredibly happy for her, but I was envious of what they shared, wanting to have something like that for myself. My thoughts flitted back to Giovanni as I headed over to greet them. To the way he’d watched me, to the way he saw me as he drew me. Idly, I wondered where he was, what he was doing, and if he was thinking about me too. If he was an artist, maybe his next drawing or painting was all he was thinking about. He probably had some super chic and savvy girlfriend who complimented his sexy artist vibe.
Or maybe he was thinking about me and that was the thought I held onto.
I’d even dressed in the hopes of seeing him again—a navy blue sundress with white accents across the top of my sweetheart neckline and three small white buttons just between my breasts. It flared out at my hips and made me feel like a flirty pin-up, the kind a sailor would tattoo on his arm. To top off the look, I’d chosen a funky red and white fascinator to hold back the hair on the left side of my face and did my makeup with a dramatic cat eye and cherry red lips.
“What’s got you smiling?” Daphne glanced over and grinned at me. “Have you finally embraced the sunshine of L.A.?”
I chuckled, knowing she wouldn’t understand
that I’d met a stranger on the beach, or the bizarre circumstance around him watching me, drawing me. “Something like that. Let’s go get you a gorgeous dress to make Marcus drool.” I wrapped my arm around my sister’s shoulders. “I have to ask, though, why isn’t Mom here? I would’ve thought you would’ve wanted her here to pick something out.”
“Are you kidding? She would totally get hung up on my vision. She wouldn’t see me in the dress, only what she doesn’t like about it.” She shook her head. “Mom won’t be happy with what I want, so it’s just a better idea to make her wait, to reveal it when she’s all overwhelmed by the emotion of seeing me walking down the aisle. She can’t criticize on my wedding day, right?”
I shrugged. I couldn’t remember a day where I hadn’t been criticized by Mom for one thing or another. “We’ll just have to make sure you look so amazing that she won’t have anything to say.”
Daphne would look good in anything she chose; she always did. And because she was so petite and willowy, she leaned toward the tighter, the sexier clothes. I had no doubt her dress today would be much of the same.
Maybe it was a good idea Mom hadn’t been invited.
As we drove to the wedding boutique, I couldn’t help but wonder what Mom would have to say if I brought home a guy like Giovanni. What anyone would say, really. None of my boyfriends had ever been much in the way of looks, but they’d been decent enough men, until they turned out to be dirtbags.
Giovanni, though… he was superiorly attractive compared to my past boyfriends, and if my gut instinct was anything to go off of, he was far more than just decent. Though, could I really trust my gut?
4
Giovanni
Derrick was growing on me.
The one year old was almost always smiling, and his giggles were infectious.
Spending the afternoon with Matt, Hayley, and Derrick was comfortable, easy, and not nearly enough to help distract me from the possibility of seeing Helena again.
Matt tapped me on the shoulder as I was playing peek-a-boo with Derrick, and I started bouncing my nephew on my knee as I looked over.
He signed, “You okay? You’re quiet.”
I didn’t need to sign back. “I’m always quiet. It’s part of my artist mystery.”
“You know what I mean.” He rolled his eyes and picked up Derrick, setting him on the floor to crawl off. “Is it the inspiration thing?”
“I drew today.” I smiled softly. “And it wasn’t torture. Maybe you were right. Maybe I just needed to come out here.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That’s all you needed, huh?”
I shrugged and signed, “I found a source of beauty.”
Matt smirked his all-knowing-older-brother smirk. “What’s her name?”
Sometimes, my siblings knew me all too well. But it wasn’t just about wanting to bed the woman. If it was, I would’ve been more forward.
Helena was more than just a gorgeous woman. She was full, curvaceous lines, softness, and I couldn’t wait to see her again, to see what her eyes looked like under those sunglasses. It was the only thing missing from the picture…her soul.
“Well?” Matt grinned at me. “Come on, you’re only this distracted when there’s a woman involved.” He pointed at Hayley, who was dancing around the kitchen to some Spanish music. “I know the feeling.”
I glanced at my sister-in-law and shook my head. She was a beauty, but she was Matt’s inspiration, not mine. “I don’t know anything about her. But if I’m lucky, I might get to see her tonight.”
“Is this the woman you were staring at yesterday in the lobby? Leave it to you to pick up a woman on a vacation.”
“Oh, like you’re any better. I do believe you and Hayley ended up together on your vacation. And you were a flirt before you settled down with Hayley and that little boy of yours. Chuck slept with half the snow bunnies in Aspen.” Even if it was an exaggeration, I didn’t like the insinuation that I was the only Wright who had a habit of dating lots of women. Or that somehow because I was an artist, I was tempted by more women than any of my brothers. “And I haven’t picked her up. I just drew her on the beach today.”
“And you’ve got a date tonight. Is she local? From out of town? What?”
I shrugged. “I guess if she shows up tonight, I’ll find out.”
“Well, good luck.” He winked at me before he got up and caught his wife, pulling her in close for a kiss.
Watching them, seeing their happy family that was so long in the making, I couldn’t help but feel like it was about damn time. Even though Matt had seemed oblivious to his own feelings, I saw it for years. The way they both orbited around each other, like they had their own gravitational pull that kept them constantly circling, constantly finding their way back to each other, it had been obvious to me.
Whether that was my artist eye, or if it was because I had to rely on things other than words to understand the world, I wasn’t sure. But the body language had always been there. The love had always been there.
Part of me desperately craved the chance to have that for myself.
To have someone look at me the way Hayley looked at Matt.
“I think I’m going to head back to the hotel, see if I can’t get some creativity out for a while.” I got up and slipped my shoes back on my feet. “Thanks for inviting me out here, guys. I know you’ve got lots going on.”
“Anytime, Gio. You’re always welcome here.” Hayley smiled and scooped up Derrick, kissing his cheek before she murmured, “Wave bye-bye to your uncle Gio, baby.”
His chubby little hand waved at me, and he grinned widely. “Bye-bye!”
I waved back and reached over to ruffle his hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, little guy. Maybe we’ll go to the beach. Would you like that?”
Hayley grinned. “He’s a little fish, just like his momma.” She looked up at me. “Call or text, we’ll set something up.”
Matt waved and signed quickly, “Let me know how it goes with your hot date tonight.”
I rolled my eyes and smirked. “Maybe.”
If things went well, I wouldn’t be able to tell him all the details. And if she just wanted to be my muse, if she just wanted me to draw her, then I’d keep her all to myself.
The hotel bar was louder than I expected.
It wouldn’t be the end of the world, but having this much noise would make it harder to hear her.
If Helena even showed up. I still didn’t know which room she was staying in, or if she’d even want to see me.
Maybe I’d just imagined the look in her eye when she saw what I’d drawn. Maybe I was crazy to think she’d ever want to see the freak who was sketching her from afar on the beach.
I couldn’t help myself, though. When I saw her in that cabana, it felt like fate. That tight, deep green swimsuit that hugged her hips and ass. The way her sunglasses and hat just hid enough of her face to give her an air of mystery, like a woman from a classic noir movie. The bombshell femme fatale.
Inspiration struck, and it struck hard.
Her husky voice was quiet behind me. “Giovanni?” Her fingers gently touched my shoulder to grab my attention.
“Helena.” I turned on my stool to face her. “You came.”
She wasn’t wearing her sunglasses now, and her eyes nearly took my breath away. Deep blue irises, the color of the ocean off a tropical beach. And she’d framed them with light, but just noticeable makeup, lining them, drawing my eyes into their depths like a siren’s song called men to drown in the deep sea.
“I had to. I want my drawing back.” She smirked. “But I could stay for a drink.”
I shook my head. “Have you eaten? We could move to the restaurant, somewhere a little quieter?” It was purely selfish, and I knew it. I wanted to have her all to myself.
Really, I wanted to invite her up to my room, where I could strip her out of that dress and find out if her kinks matched mine.
“Oh, um, sure. Okay.” Her crimson colored lips
turned into a slight frown. “If that’s what you want.”
I stood, carefully sliding my hand along her lower back, wanting to slip it lower, but I doubted she’d be okay with that. “I would happily stay here and just get a drink, but I have to be completely honest. I don’t want to share you with any of the other men in this bar. I’m a selfish bastard of an artist, and I want to keep the most beautiful things in the world to myself.”
Her eyes grew wide and those crimson lips parted in a slight gasp. “Oh.”
I reached over and picked up the folder I’d slipped her drawing into before I pulled her in a little closer. “And I really want to spend a little time getting to know you. Hopefully convince you to make this morning more than just a one-time thing.”
Was it my imagination, or was she leaning into my touch?
I nudged her toward the bar exit, keeping one hand on her lower back even as I dropped a couple steps behind so that I could watch that sexy ass sway with every step.
She glanced back at me. “Do you do that often?”
“What?” Think dirty thoughts about women I just met? Stare at luscious curves and yearn to have them wrapped around me?
“Draw strangers.” She paused just outside the restaurant, turning to look at me again. “I mean, you must, right? Because you had your sketchbook. It wasn’t like you followed me out there. Did you?”
“I draw what inspires me. And no, I didn’t follow you. But as soon as I saw you, engrossed in whatever was on your tablet, I got the itch.” I held up two fingers to the man at the host stand but kept my focus on Helena. “If I’d had my camera, I would’ve taken pictures too.”
Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t say anything as the host led us through the restaurant to a table.
I leaned toward her. “Does it bother you?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been someone’s inspiration before. It’s… strange, I guess.”
The Fiancé Agreement Page 3