Signature of a Soul

by Riona Kelly

  "I would like to paint you," he said as he set it back on the easel. "Would you allow me to do it?"

  "Me?" Michelle pressed her hand against her chest in surprise.

  "You are beautiful, Michelle. I would like to capture your beauty so I can have it forever with me. I would not sell that painting; I would keep it for my own."

  "I don't know. How long would it take to do it? Would I need to pose for it? I only have a few days here in Marbella." She was flattered at the suggestion but didn't think she would want to pose for hours.

  “Tomorrow, I could get some photos of you in different settings, and I can work from the photos. You would not have to pose, but I would like for you to sit for a quick sketch if you will."

  "Okay. That sounds possible. I will see if I can get time away from my aunt tomorrow. I'll call you."

  With a plan in mind, they exchanged phone numbers.

  Roberto invited her to sit while he got cold drinks for them. As she settled on the loveseat-sized sofa in the room, her eyes followed him back to the small kitchen, as she appraised the place. The flat wasn't big, but it was clean and tidy. His work constituted the primary use of the downstairs area, and the sofa amounted to the only piece of furniture other than a tall barstool. A half-wall separated the kitchen area from it with an opening at the end to allow access. Tiles across the top of the half-wall formed a countertop.

  He handed her a fruity drink, and she took a sip, tasting pineapple and orange juices and another flavor suggesting alcohol. "This is good. It has wine in it, doesn't it?"

  "Just a little. It's a quick sangria mix. If the wine is a problem, I can get you just the mix, but it does not taste as good." He waited for her answer.

  "It's okay. I can drink it. I've had wine at home."

  Relieved, he sank onto the sofa beside her and slipped his free hand on top of hers and let it rest there, not moving more than his thumb along the side of her hand.

  “Do you often bring girls here?” she asked, a shy tone to her voice. She felt a little foolish, but she also wanted him to know she didn’t think she was special for being invited.

  He frowned. “No. No, I hardly ever bring anyone here. This is my workplace. My studio. I brought you because I like you very much and because you are interested in what I do. Most girls I meet are not impressed with what I do, and I do not invite them out to dinner or to here. But you understand my passion.”

  “I see. I didn’t mean anything by it. It was just a curiosity.” And it still sounded like a line to her. It was pretty much the same as let me show you my etchings. Roberto surely had many girls who were attracted to him. Don’t get involved in a romance, her aunt had warned, and she should listen.

  His hand slowly began to slide up her arm, rubbing with a delicate touch, just brushing against her skin. His touch was charged with electricity, making her whole body want more. Then he leaned closer to her, his face in front of her, and his eyes gazing into hers as his hand moved up to touch her right temple, tracing his fingers along the edge of her hairline and down to her jaw in a tantalizingly slow crawl. Her breath hitched. Without thought, she tilted her head up so her jaw was a little higher as those searching fingers moved down along to under her chin, then worked their way up to her lower lip. A single finger slid over her lip toward her open mouth, and she captured it inside her moist cave, biting down ever so lightly on it. She tasted sugar on it, sweet and caramel, like brown sugar, as he rubbed the digit against her teeth.

  Who would have thought you could stimulate the teeth in such a way? she thought as they almost vibrated with his strokes. She pressed her hand against his chest, feeling the muscles flex beneath his cotton shirt. She heard the short catch in his breath as her fingers roamed over his chest, touching sensitive spots through the material.

  His lips moved in toward her, landing on her forehead, then working their way down the right side of her face, skimming with little brushes of kisses toward her mouth where his fingertip now traced the outline of them. She shivered with the anticipation of his lips against hers.

  In their closeness, she detected the scents of a mixture of garlic and olives from dinner combined with sage and thyme; she found them stimulating. His skin felt balmy and slightly moist in the evening's warmth. The dampness of her own body from the combined heat of the night and their growing displays of affection left a layer of sweat on her skin.

  Michelle felt torn with wanting to go through with this and knowing she should not. She was not untouched as she'd been with a couple of boys at home and had taken precautions, but she knew it was not wise to pursue this with someone she barely knew. Yet, she wanted more of the foreplay, and she desired to touch him, to make him feel as antsy as she did.

  His mouth made contact with hers, and all thoughts of resistance vanished. His lips tasted like cherries, limes, and oranges from the sangria, delicious with a tiny kick of barely-bridled passion. His hands cupped the sides of her head as he deepened the kiss. She responded with a low growl of desire and pushed against him as she opened her mouth wider to him.

  Roberto's right hand dropped to her blouse to begin undoing the top buttons on it. Then he slipped it inside and cupped her already firm breast within his grasp. Small and compact as they were, she never wore a bra. If it surprised him, he gave no indication, not even a hesitation in his exploration. As his fingers circled and teased, she dropped her head backward with a deep exhale and drew in more air. He moved his mouth slowly down her throat.

  Just as his kisses landed on her collarbone, a phone rang. She caught her breath, startled by the sound. For a moment, she thought it was hers, but the ringtone wasn't right. Roberto cursed in Spanish, his voice low as he pulled back from her and answered the call while he sat up.

  "Si?" he said, his voice sharp and business-like. He frowned as he listened to the caller, a look of annoyance crossing his face. He rose to his feet to go to the small kitchen to talk, waving a hand at Michelle to indicate she should stay where she was.

  She couldn't hear the conversation, but she could see him pacing around the kitchen and could pick up the tone of his voice now and then. He was annoyed, she thought, and his voice came through with a sharp bark of an answer. She guessed this was not good news. Sensing the mood they had started had just vanished, she began buttoning her blouse and went to the bathroom next to the stairs to tidy up a little.

  When she came out, Roberto was sitting forward on the sofa with his hands clasped together. He looked up at her and managed a gentle smile. "I am sorry, carita. It was business. Arturo again about the painting as if I can make the paint cure any quicker than it does. He should understand that by now. These are not acrylics; they are oils and hand-mixed colors I use. They take time to dry completely before I can continue with the last steps. He wants the painting tomorrow, and I told him it is not possible. If I force it, the paint could crack."

  "You're right about it, and he shouldn't try to hurry you," she told him as she sank back to the couch. "I need to get back to my hotel anyway, Roberto. Can you take me? Or I can call for a cab..."

  "Of course, I'll take you," he said. He reached an arm around her shoulder to pull her close. "It was good tonight until the phone call. I should turn the annoying thing off at night."

  She laughed. "I have the same problem sometimes with people calling me at the most inconvenient time. I'll see you tomorrow, though, one way or another."

  He nodded, then reached his other hand across and opened it to reveal an orange paper-wrapped chocolate. "For my dulce."

  With a girlish laugh, she took it, unwrapped it, and popped the orange-flavored confection into her mouth. Taking her hand, they moseyed to the door where Roberto paused to lock up. She climbed on the back of the motorcycle and wrapped her arms around his waist as he kicked it on. With a quick start, they headed down the hilly road toward the coast.

  Briefly, Michelle wondered what her aunt and her father might say about her modeling for a painting. Somehow, she thought Aunt Lind
y might approve, but her dad was another whole story.

  Chapter 6

  Colin took Lindy to a restaurant up the beach from the hotel where they could dine by the sea and enjoy the sound of the waves against the shore. Pleased to some extent that Roberto had invited Michelle to dinner, it still nagged at her a little since she needed to be responsible for the girl while they were traveling. She reminded herself she'd traveled in Europe at the same age with less supervision. Their chaperone, a young woman barely five years older than they were, could rarely be found, which meant the girls scurried out and about on their own. Slipping away to spend time with Etienne had been simple.

  She brought her attention back to Colin, who had been telling her about his scouting activities for the day, a trip up into the hills above Mijas and looking at possible sets they could use for the film. She listened with fascination as he explained what he looked for in consideration, including easy access for cameras, houses with the right look, and the backgrounds they would be able to use. It took a trained eye and imagination to visualize what the scene would look like through the camera's eye to find just the right spots.

  "Isn't there a whole town built for movies near here?" Lindy asked, positive she'd heard of spaghetti westerns being filmed in Spain.

  "Oh, yes, there is. Close to Almería. The set at Fort Bravo emulates a western town with Spanish facades, able to fill in for towns in California, New Mexico, Arizona, and Texas during the settlement of the west. Many films have been made there. Unfortunately, it's the wrong look for the movie I'm working on. These days, it pays the bills as a tourist park, but can still be used for films."

  "Too bad it's not right for your film. It would simplify your job."

  "Simplify, yes, but then it would make me not as necessary to the filming." He laughed. "I enjoy the trips and looking for new and unique locations we can use. I'm going over to Morocco the day after tomorrow to check out a couple of places there.” He paused, eyes lighting up. “Listen, why don't you come along with me? We could spend the night and come back on the afternoon ferry the next day."

  Taken off guard, Lindy blurted out, "Oh, I couldn't do that. There's Michelle to consider."

  "Bring her along, then. It would be good to have your eye looking at the sets as well. As an artist, you would see things I might miss." He smiled encouragingly at her, nodding his head as if it could change her answer.

  She considered. "Well, it might give her a different perspective on what life is like in a poorer country than she's used to seeing. Let me discuss it with her tonight, and I'll decide. I'll let you know tomorrow."

  "All right, then. Why don't you join me tomorrow? I'm going down to Malaga to check out a couple of places near there. You can see what I do first hand and give me your thoughts." He rested his hand on hers, his fingers rubbing against the back of hers. "We could leave right after breakfast and be back by late afternoon. What do you say?"

  Lindy mulled it over for a minute or so. Surely Michelle would be fine on her own for one day. The girl wanted to spend time at the beach, and if she stayed in the hotel area, she should be safe. Smiling, Lindy nodded. "Yes, I'd love it, Colin."

  He smiled, bringing a sparkle of joy to his eyes as he leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. She closed her eyes, savoring the light touch and delicate taste of the sangria on his mouth. It had been a while since she'd been with a man. Too long.

  Holding her hand in his, Colin rose, pulling her up with him, and wrapped an arm around her waist as he guided her out of the restaurant and down to the beach. They strolled along, her head pressed sideways against his shoulder while he leaned his cheek against the top of it.

  In some ways, Lindy felt as if she’d known this man for a long time. She felt comfortable, totally at ease, in his arms. The scent of his cologne reminded her of days spent in London and a man, not so different, she’d dated then. Same scent, same easy style. Why had they broken up?

  Oh, yes, she remembered. She had a commission in Italy, a painting that would pay a lot of money, but it would take several months. At first, he said he would wait for her. Then as the months stretched and she got another job, the interest began to fade, and he quit waiting for her. Or did she simply cease to care about him? Back then, her focus was on painting, not romance.

  She snuggled closer to Colin’s side, content to be with him on this magical Spanish night. No doubt about it in her mind. Spain held its own unique enchantment, and she had fallen under its spell. And what was wrong with that?

  As they strolled, the waves sloshed against the shore in gentle gurgles. No big breakers rolling in off the Mediterranean Sea tonight. Ahead, lights from the beach resorts reflected crookedly in the water with the gentle rolling. Other couples wandered along, some with bare feet in the surf while others, old and young, just walked hand in hand on a balmy night. Romance lingered in the air as the eastern breeze carried the fresh scent of verbenas and oranges from the plants lining the gardens along the shore.

  She inhaled deeply, and Colin squeezed her waist a bit, then turned his head toward her as his mouth sought her lips again. They made contact, and she fell into the embrace as he turned her in his arms while his kisses grew deeper, and her longing increased. Her body felt young again, sparking to the need growing in it as his hands caressed her face, his fingers brushing against her hair. It definitely had been too long.

  But they were on a public beach and, while others were also kissing now and then, they weren’t exactly making out. As if aware of Lindy’s thoughts, Colin pulled back, and a sheepish grin twisted his mouth. “That was more than I expected,” he whispered, his British accent making it sound so sexy. “But much less than I want.”

  “Not here,” she said pragmatically.

  “Of course not,” he agreed. “And not tonight.”

  With a sigh, he held up his wrist with his watch showing. “It’s getting late, and if I’m going to work tomorrow, I need my sleep.”

  Lindy’s laugh came out more like a chortle of relief. She didn’t know if she felt quite ready to go to a hotel room with a man she’d only just met, although her body felt ready to party. But she also had Michelle to think about, and she wanted to speak to her before she and Colin left to go scouting in the morning.

  Colin walked her back to their beach resort, stopping at the elevator of Lindy’s unit. Taking her face in his hand, he kissed her again, his lips lingering a bit, then he murmured, “I will see you in the morning, my dear. Sleep well.”

  As Lindy opened the door to the room at their condo, she found Michelle had just come home a short time before her and was relaxing on the sofa with a cup of tea.

  "Did you have a nice evening, Auntie?"

  "Very nice, indeed," Lindy answered. "How about you? Was dinner with your young man good?"

  "It was. He took me to a non-tourist restaurant where everyone knew him, and the food was delicious. Then we went to his studio, and Roberto showed me some of his paintings. One he is working on looks amazing. I took a photo of it. Let me show you." She pulled out her phone and called up the photo, handing it to Lindy to see.

  Willing to indulge her, Lindy took the camera and looked at the photo. It wasn't very large, but it did look like he’d done a beautiful painting. It was similar to the one she had bought in theme but quite different in expression. As she studied, she sensed something familiar about it, something she'd felt when she'd seen the paintings she'd bought. Every artist has their own style, and this was Roberto's, but it seemed like she'd seen it before.

  As she handed the phone back, she said, "It is quite good. A little hard to evaluate in the small image, but it is obviously well done. The expression is excellent. Roberto is quite gifted, I think."

  She made herself a cup of tea and sat across from her niece. "Michelle, would you mind awfully being on your own tomorrow? Colin has asked me to join him on a scouting trip for most of the day, and it does sound like fun. I'd be back before dinner."

  Michelle smiled
, her eyes lighting up with happiness. "No problem, Auntie. I'm glad you two are getting along so well."

  "So, you don't mind?"

  With a shake of her head, Michelle replied, "No, of course not. I have things I can do around here."

  Sipping her tea, she listened with half an ear as Michelle spoke more about the commissioned painting Roberto was working on and how his agent called him about it. Lindy’s mind lingered on Colin and the possibly romantic day she might have with him while looking at various locations. She counted him more fascinating than any man she’d been with in the past five years. Besides, he seemed to have more regard for her talent and work than many men she’d dated. Most just found it mildly interesting, but not something they wanted to discuss in any depth. The idea of including her in their work was out of the question. So, seeing a man who might value her opinion was refreshing.

  The idea of spending a couple of days, and a night, with him in Tangiers was exciting, but bringing her niece along would definitely put a damper on the trip, although she would not regret it. She had an obligation to both Michelle and her brother. She promised to take care of her on this trip as Jonathon and Karin, his wife, were so concerned about the safety of their daughter in Europe.

  “I have another thing to tell you,” she said when Michelle paused for breath in her story. “Colin has invited us to go to Tangiers the day after tomorrow. We’d stay overnight and come back the following afternoon. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

  Michelle’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. “You and me with Colin for over twenty-four hours? You must be joking? In fact, it’s kind of weird.”

  “Why? What makes you think so?” Lindy was stunned at the reaction.

  “Auntie, it would really make me a third wheel. The two of you on a romantic little trip with the tag-along, what-can-I-do-with-her niece. How do you see that as a good time for any of us?” Michelle rose to her feet to take her cup back to the kitchenette. Her head was still shaking in denial at the prospect of such a preposterous suggestion.