“What are you looking for?”
Meaghan realized that she had been trying to look through the gaps in the staircase as she descended. She looked up to see David staring up at her.
“Oh, hi.”
“I assure you there are no monsters under the stairs,” he informed her, chuckling to himself as he covered the painting that he was working on with a sheet and placing it against the wall in the corner of the room.
“What are you painting?” she asked, trying to change the subject to avoid the topic of monsters. She reached out to touch the painting. “May I see it?”
David stepped between her and the artwork. “No.” He made no explanations and the stern quality of his voice left her in no doubt that there would be no changing his mind. He handed her a sketch book and a box of pastels. Holding her elbow, he escorted her over to an overstuffed chair where he instructed her to sit. She studied the room while he set up a fold-up table with a tablecloth, a bowl, and some fruit.
“Is this your room?” she asked when she noticed the corner of the huge basement was divided by a large screen. From the angle where she was seated, she could see a large bed. Its sheets tangled as though someone had recently spent a restless night. Or got lucky. His answer was as abrupt and absolute as the last.
“No.”
“Does someone else live down here?” Meaghan wondered out loud. Maybe the murdered brunette had spent her last night between those satin sheets. Now she lay on a cold slab at the morgue.
Despite the lack of windows and the strong smell of paint and turpentine, the large room looked quite comfortable. A computer and printer sat in one corner of the room beside an intercom and phone, suggesting that David used the room as an office as well as a studio. She made a mental note to fish through the computer’s history as soon as she got the chance.
****
“I live upstairs,” David told her. His back still turned to her.
Her proximity made it hard to remain aloof. She radiated heat and he could hear the erratic beating of her heart. He fought the impulse to kiss her. Stay disconnected David. Focus. “Would you like to start your lesson or do you have more questions concerning my personal life?”
“Sorry.”
“I am sorry too, Meaghan.” He turned to face her. Her bottom lip protruded in a pout. Cherubic bow shaped lips. He stood transfixed to the spot, mesmerized and when she ran her tongue between those luscious lips, he almost came undone. He closed his eyes. Focus, David. Focus.
“I had a rather unpleasant experience last night which left me feeling agitated. I had no right to take out my mood on you.” Unless you are the killer. He forced a smile. “In answer to your questions… I occasionally sleep here when I work late and lose track of the time. You are welcome to use the bed whenever you wish.”
Meaghan’s eyes widened. A blush painted her cheeks a slightly darker shade of pink. She looked away as she told him. “I’m perfectly happy with the bed in the cottage.”
David cleared his throat. “Good. Good. Then let’s get on with it.” He noticed her glance back at his covered paintings. Inquisitive little thing. She’s going to be a handful.
“I don’t like to show my paintings until they’re finished so I hope you understand and respect my need for privacy. I trust that I can rely on your word that you won’t be tempted to look when you’re alone in here?”
****
David worked at his computer for most of the day, occasionally stopping to check Meaghan’s drawings and offer suggestions. Every half an hour or so, he rearranged the fruit in the bowl or changed the tablecloth and then went back to his own work. At one stage, Evan sent down a tray on the dumb waiter and Meaghan enjoyed a lunch of roast beef and onion sandwiches and fruit juice before being instructed to go back to her sketching.
When she asked for a toilet break, she was directed to an en-suite adjacent to the bedroom. She opened the door and gasped. En-suite be damned. This bathroom was huge. She bit her lip. A sunken spa bath. Wow. How good would that feel after a hard day on the beat. The shower had a rainforest shower head. It looked as though three people could fit comfortably in the recess. She bit her bottom lip and suppressed a giggle. Did he like threesomes? Maybe Lilith was right. Like the studio, there were no windows in the room.
As she passed the mirror, she did a double-take. Her reflection looked pale. Dark shadows circled her eyes. Her nightly activities were taking their toll on her health. Until the case was closed, she would probably continue to look like one of the “living dead” dolls sold in novelty stores. She leaned in, closer to the mirror. Her gray-green eyes as big as saucers on her small heart shaped face. As she pinched her cheeks, she wondered—not for the first time—which parent she may have inherited her features from. She ran her fingers through her fringe and tidied up her braids, grateful that at least her hair looked healthy before she returned to join David.
As she passed the bed, Meaghan noticed that David had evidently decided to take a nap. Wonderful. What a great mentor he turned out to be. He lay on top of the disheveled sheets, shirtless with his designer jeans slung low on his hips. She paused, seizing the opportunity to get a closer look at his long, heavily muscled body. He looked less like an artist and more like a work of art. As though chiseled from marble, his body rippled with muscles from his mountainous shoulders, bulging pecs, down to his well-defined almost eight pack abs. Longingly, her eyes lingered on his hips and the way they seem to draw the eyes down to the waist band of his jeans and beyond. She swallowed the lump in her throat and forced her eyes back to his upper torso, concentrating on the subtle way he flexed his biceps during sleep.
His arms were huge and she wondered—if he ever decided to hug her—if his embrace would crush her small frame. My polar opposite. When he stood beside her, he towered above her, despite her being of average height for a female. His dark, neatly cropped hair a stark contrast to the pale blonde hair that reached half way down her back, even in braids. Her heart-shaped face created an illusion of youth despite her twenty-five years, while his square jaw and strong features gave away no secrets, told no tales. No wrinkles worried his brow. No crow’s feet creased the corner of his eyes. How old are you, David Corel?
He murmured in his sleep, a warning that he might wake up at any moment so she returned to her fruit bowl. Glancing back at his masculine form, she wondered when or even if, she would be allowed to draw something besides food.
****
Despite her previous concern, hours passed before David awoke and, without a word to Meaghan, rose from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. Meaghan checked her watch. It was already 6 p.m. and would be getting dark outside. Time to begin patrolling the university. She had to invent a good excuse for leaving. Something credible. She waited for a few minutes, expecting his return until she heard water running and realized that he was taking a shower. For a moment, she considered lifting the sheet on his most recent painting but thought better of it. If he caught her, there was no telling what he might do. Bide your time, Meaghan. Living in his guesthouse would give her the perfect opportunity to monitor his movements and she wasn’t going to jeopardize this advantage just to satisfy her own curiosity. It turned out to be a wise decision because the door suddenly opened and David walked into the room, dripping wet and wearing only a towel wrapped precariously around his waist. Despite her shock, Meaghan found it impossible to look away as he rubbed at his hair with a second towel, seemingly oblivious to the woman gaping at him behind the fogging lenses of her glasses.
Her head warned her that there would be repercussions but her eyes remained transfixed on a particular droplet of water as it trickled down his chest and disappeared under the makeshift loincloth. Oh, my god. He looks like Tarzan. Breathing became difficult. Her throat tightened. Her eyes followed the concave line that separated his abs from his belly button up to his solid chest. His muscular shoulders drew back and she heard a sharp intake of breath as she lifted her chin to look into his eyes. Oh
, god. He’s looking at me.
He smiled and she knew he had caught her staring at his near naked body. She turned back to her drawing as she felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She cleared her throat.
“When can I draw something other than fruit?”
“Some artists would be grateful to have a piece of fruit to draw.” He informed her with a gleam in his eye that she acknowledged with an eye roll of her own eyes.
“Fine, have it your way,” he said as he lifted the table, fruit bowl and all, and moved it to one side of the room. He dragged what appeared to be a heavy pallet from across the room, not only impressing her with the demonstration of his strength but also giving Meaghan a good look at his long, well-developed hamstrings and tight arse as he backed towards her. When he reached the center of the room, he threw a blanket over the pallet and began to remove his towel.
“What are you doing?” Meaghan squealed, her voice sounding embarrassingly shrill as she jumped to her feet.
“You wanted to draw something else,” he reminded her, apparently surprised by her reaction. “I thought you were accustomed to life drawing?”
“No I, well yes I guess … but—”
“Oh, that’s right,” he teased. “You ran out of the class last time I modelled.”
“I wasn’t well.” The heat of her cheeks fogged her glasses.
“All right then.” He stripped off his towel and threw it on the floor before reclining on the pallet. “You now have the opportunity to catch up with the rest of the class.”
Meaghan looked up at the ceiling, trying to avoid the full frontal nudity that confronted her. “You had a helmet between your legs in the classroom,” she protested.
“Not for the entire class. If you’d stayed, you would have known that.”
“I don’t think this is appropriate for a mentor and his student,” she argued. Her chin down as she stared at her feet. “Doesn’t this fall under sexual harassment or something?”
“Maybe if we were in an office.” He sat up, and swung his legs over the edge of the pallet. “I don’t understand you, Meaghan. We’re both adults and you’re here to learn how to paint. I know that you’ve drawn naked men before and, as you’re not a teenager, I expect that you’ve spent time with naked men before.”
“I’ve got to go.” She dropped the sketch book as she bolted for the stairs.
David stood up and intercepted her. “Meaghan, I don’t understand why you are so upset? Surely you…” He held her by the shoulders and looked down at her face. Suddenly his eyes widened. “You’re a virgin?”
“I didn’t know it was a crime.” She argued, struggling to break free of his grip. When she tried to look down at her feet in order to avert his gaze, she was found herself staring down at an impressive erection. The experience was confronting, embarrassing but worse still, arousing. He held her against his body. She felt her womb clench and her breasts grow heavy with desire as he held her tight against his solid frame. His damp skin pressed against her. Wetness crept through the thin material of her dress, soaking through the lace of her bra. The sensation of the water like fingers lightly skimming her breasts. She leaned into his chest, unable to move. Unwilling to move. His skin smelled wonderful. He smelled of musk and cedar wood and sex.
“You misunderstand, Meaghan,” he told her, “I find your confession both refreshing and enlightening.” He lifted her chin with his finger. Their bodies still touching. She could feel his manhood pressing against her stomach. “Now it makes perfect sense why you reacted the way you did. I apologize for my behavior.”
“It would be easier to accept your apology if you weren’t poking me with that … thing.” Meaghan stepped back. “I have to go.”
“Wait!” he called after her. “We should discuss this further.”
“I have an appointment,” she told him without turning around. “We can talk tomorrow.”
She was halfway up the stairs when she heard him again. “Don’t give up on this mentorship program. I believe now, more than ever, that there’s a lot I can teach you.”
She wanted to answer, to say something witty that would give her the upper hand, but her physical reaction to the double entendre warned her that if she stayed a minute longer, he would be teaching her the art of making love. She took the last stairs two at a time, narrowly missing a young woman who was entering the room. She froze. Who was this woman? A girlfriend? Lover? Potential victim? Her hand shot to her mouth. Bastard. He had apparently planned on seducing her knowing full well that another woman was on the way over. The sheets would still be warm from making love to her as the new woman took her place on the bed.
“He’s all yours.” She told the pretty woman with the unruly copper hair as she hurried past. She kept the pace until she found herself back at the cottage. You just dodged a bullet, she informed herself as she entered her bedroom but the reality did nothing to soothe her soul or quench the fire of her desire. Damn him. She still wanted him.
****
David heard the light footsteps on the stairs and ran to meet them.
“Oh, good grief, David.” Anna yelped, covering her eyes with her hands, “Put some pants on.”
“Sorry, Anna.” David retrieved his towel and fastened it around his waist. “I was expecting someone else.”
“And you were obviously very pleased at the prospect.” She continued as she descended the stairs. “But there are certain things about a brother-in-law that should remain a mystery.”
“Don’t tell Derrick,” David joked. “He’ll be jealous.”
“Your brother has nothing to be jealous about.” She retorted with a wink. Their eyes met and they both laughed. “Can we please change the subject? I was coming here to ask you if you were going out to the campus again tonight. Your protégée almost bowled me over. What was that about anyway?”
“A stupid misunderstanding.” He shook his head. “She said she wanted to draw something other than fruit so I—”
“Thought you’d show her your banana?”
“Very funny, Anna,” he complained, although he held out his hand for a fist bump. “She left the life drawing class early last week. It didn’t occur to me that she ran out of the class last week because she was embarrassed to see a naked male.”
“So the braids, pretty frocks, daisy sandals and heavy rimmed glasses didn’t give you a clue about her sexual innocence?”
“Now that you mention it … I’m a dumb arse.”
“No. She’s just very different to your usual type of female. This one is special but…” her eyebrows knit as her mouth tightened into a grimace.
“What is it Anna?”
“There’s something about her that disturbs me. I can sense that she has power but I can’t quite put my finger on the source of it. She has secrets David, and as much as I hate to put a damper on your love life, as leaders of our coven, it is yours and Derrick’s responsibility to find out what those secrets are.”
“I know my responsibilities.” He turned away as if by concealing his face he could block out his thoughts from his witch sister-in-law. “But, what if she’s the killer, Anna? If she is—and I truly believe her to be—human. I’ll have to turn her in to the authorities. If she is supernatural, I’ll be forced to deal with it myself. How can I bring myself to hurt her?”
“I guess we’ll deal with that if it comes down to it. In the meantime, go after her and makes things right. If she leaves, it’ll be harder to keep track of her comings and goings.”
“You’re right.” David started up the stairs before Anna reminded him of his state of undress.
“David. For heaven’s sake, put some pants on.”
Chapter Seven
Meaghan responded to the knock at her door
“Come in, David,” she called as she continued to place her belongings into the suitcases.
“There’s no need for you to go,” he told her. “I promise that from now on, I will confine my nudity to the campus classroom.”
/> She turned to look at him and felt slightly disappointed that he’d changed into a white t-shirt and jeans.
“I don’t think this will work out. Surely there are others who you can choose to mentor, that woman I just ran into for instance.”
“Anna?” David laughed. “I’ve seen her drawings. Her buses look like turtles. Besides, I believe my brother keeps his wife on a pretty tight leash. They are, after all, still on their honeymoon.”
“Oh.” She felt her shoulders relax. Despite her reservations, she was relieved. Why? She stood motionless, staring at him, trying to find the right words to explain how she was feeling but in truth, she didn’t know what she was feeling. Lust? Fear?
“I was disrespectful,” he told her. “I can’t hide the fact that I am attracted to you and I got the impression that you felt the same. I made a stupid mistake and it would be a real shame if you threw away a chance for recognition in the art world just because I came on to you. I promise that in future I’ll keep my hands off you.”
“No.” Meaghan found her voice. “That’s not what I want—”
David raised an eyebrow. “But I—”
“If you’ll let me finish…” Meaghan interrupted. “I don’t think I want you to keep your hands off me,” she confessed.
She lowered her eyes. Her confidence fading. It was now or never. Tell him.
“I think that I want to experience everything you can teach me. But, I am afraid I will disappoint you.”
David’s lips parted slightly. The edges curled into a smile. He slowly approached her but she held out her arm, palm out, to signal to him that she had more to say.
The Art of Seduction Page 4