After they had returned from Airport Mesa and had lectured their siblings—both whom thought they were hilarious—Traevyn had spent a long time sketching on Talis’s porch. When they’d gone to bed he’d asked Evie if she believed fairy tales existed in real life. When she’d said yes, he’d asked if she thought he could ever have a happy ending. She’d told him that no one deserved to live happily ever after more than him and she was sure he would have his fairy tale ending. For some reason this had prompted him to reach out and touch her face so delicately that she’d nearly passed out. Then he’d seized her hand, held it over his heart, and had fallen asleep like that. She was still trying to figure it out.
She had barely seen him all day. He’d all but locked himself inside Talis’s bedroom and had been painting for hours. She was a little hurt by the fact that he apparently wanted to exclude her from his project, but she tried not to dwell on it.
She sighed as she applied the finishing touches to her makeup and made sure her hair was going to stay in the up-do she had put it in. When she was relatively satisfied with her appearance, she emerged from the bathroom to see Traevyn standing in the living room talking to Seth, Talis and Ash while he waited. Evie drew her breath in sharply. He looked gorgeous dressed in a black suit with a black shirt and a dark burgundy tie. She had been expecting a tux, but she was glad he was wearing what he was. Seeing Traevyn in a tux would be almost as weird as seeing him in swim trunks.
She gathered her courage and made her way into the living room.
Traevyn glanced up to see Evie enter the room and all thought fled from his mind. The air slammed out of his lungs, and he was suddenly overwhelmed by such strong desire that he thought he would incinerate right there. She was radiant. Radiant beyond words.
Seth let out a slow whistle. “Dang, sis. You’re a hottie.”
Evie’s cheeks turned pink and she rolled her eyes. “Shut up,” she muttered.
“Actually,” Traevyn said as he took both of her hands in his and kissed them, “I would have to agree with Seth on this one.” He let his eyes feast on the glory that was all Evie. The gown fit her perfectly and she had put matching smudges of turquoise eye shadow on. Her lashes stood out long and thick and a faint blush accentuated her cheekbones. She was dazzling. “You’re going to distract all my patrons. No one will look at my art because they will all be too busy looking at you.”
She met his eyes and her heart melted at the gentleness they radiated. Two months ago she never would have thought that Traevyn would gaze at her in such a way, or say such nice things to her. She smiled and averted her eyes.
Traevyn smiled and took one of her hands, lacing their fingers together. He turned to the others. “Goodnight,” he said, eyeballing Seth and Talis. “Try not to get into too much trouble while we’re gone.”
Talis grinned. “Us?”
Seth nodded. “You two should get into lots of trouble.” He gave a dramatic wink.
Traevyn chuckled and led Evie out to the car. She grew quiet and he seemed to notice because he stopped at her door and gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but even she knew she looked unconvincing.
He smiled. “Don’t be nervous, Evie. It’s my art everyone will be staring at.”
She rolled her eyes. “Traevyn, you’re already established. The people at this thing will already know and love your art. I’ve never been to one of these before and I’m afraid I…” She sighed. “I’m afraid I won’t fit in.”
He frowned. “Won’t fit in? Evie,”—he brought his mouth close to her ear, his breath tickling her— “you will be the finest piece of art there.” He pressed a lingering kiss to the back of her jaw.
Evie’s breath caught, then came out shaky. She instinctively pressed closer to him, wanting his strength, wanting his warmth, wanting his arms around her, wanting him so badly that it hurt. It was getting worse. Her feelings weren’t diminishing. They were only growing stronger. His constant affection wasn’t helping. If she survived the rest of the summer it would be a miracle.
Traevyn pulled her into his arms for a short, comforting hug, then looked down at her with a smile.
She forced a smile and got in the car after he opened her door. She had a cold, twisted knot in her stomach the entire way to the gallery that did not recede when they arrived.
Traevyn’s gallery was small, like most of the privately owned galleries in Sedona, but it was fairly bursting with people. She clung to Traevyn’s hand as he led her through the throng, mingling with some and introducing her to people she would never remember the next day. Everyone was dressed very fashionably and seemed so aristocratic. It was like a whole different world to her.
“Evie,” Traevyn’s voice came, “I have to speak with the gallery director for a moment. Please, look around. I know you know all of my art already, but…” He shrugged.
She grinned. “I never get tired of your art, Traevyn.”
He smiled. “I’ll come and find you in a bit.”
She wandered through the different rooms, studying each one of his magnificent paintings as if it was the first time she had ever seen it. She marveled over the fact that, several years ago, she had seen a painting of Traevyn’s in a museum and it had inspired her. The painting done by a mysterious man she had never thought she would know, let alone be in love with. She sighed. It was frightening to admit that to herself, but it was pointless and stupid to deny it any longer. She loved Traevyn in a way she hadn’t even known she could love, and it killed her to know that her paradise would end in a little less than a month.
She continued from painting to painting and lost track of time somewhere along the line. She heard a woman mention the large painting in the far back room and how it was exquisite, but not for sale, much to her dismay. Evie frowned, wondering what the painting was. Deciding to check it out, she headed toward the back, but was stopped by a copy of Innerworkings of a Creative Soul. She turned toward it, unable to pass it by, and just stared. This painting… Traevyn’s darkest moment. No light, no beauty. Just chaotic torment. It still beckoned her. She wanted to reach out and touch it, soothe the shadows away. She imagined she always would.
“Brilliant piece, isn’t it?” a man’s voice came from behind her.
She turned to see a young man in maybe his late twenties coming to stand next to her. She nodded with a smile and turned back to the painting.
“How amazing for someone to paint their creative soul in such a way. To use the colors to represent such passionate turbulence. It’s so inspiring.”
She blinked. Inspiring? Now that she knew what the painting really represented she couldn’t call it inspiring. It was painful. “It doesn’t represent creation and passion,” she found herself saying.
He frowned. “I beg your pardon?” He fixed her with an incredulous look.
“Well, look at the black shades and the darker colors. If you look closely, they swirl into the shape of a man screaming. It represents pain, torment, heart-wrenching sorrow.”
The man’s frown deepened. “You’ll forgive me if I disagree with you. This painting is one of Traevyn Whitelaw’s most famous. It is discussed in art classes across the nation. It’s very clearly a representation of creative genius.” His smile was smug. “You see, I’m a bit of a Traevyn Whitelaw historian. I did my final on him for my art history class.”
She smirked. “Did you?”
He nodded.
“Yes, so did I. Fun, isn’t it? Filling up pages with information that doesn’t exist. Let me ask you something. Have you ever actually met Traevyn Whitelaw?”
“No,” he replied, gazing back up at the painting. “I saw him here tonight, but I can’t bring myself to speak with him. It would be like talking to DaVinci.”
Evie grinned and shook her head. “He’s just a man,” she said, her eyes softening at the thought of him. “Imperfect as you and I, but with such a beautiful soul.”
“I beg to differ.”
She arched an eyebrow in amusement. “Do you?”
“Yes. I believe he would be very well-rounded and dynamic. I bet he sees beauty in everything.”
Evie almost laughed aloud. “Just out of curiosity, what grade did you get on your final?”
He frowned in confusion.
She waved it away. “Never mind. Anyway, trust me when I say that Traevyn is not larger than life. He is human. He is real, and this painting does not represent his creative drive.”
He folded his arms, looking irritated. “Who are you anyway?”
She smiled. “Evie Austin,” she replied. “I’m Mr. Whitelaw’s apprentice.”
He blinked.
“Evie, there you are,” Traevyn said, striding up to her. “Where have you been?”
She glanced to the young gentleman, who was now considerably pale. She grinned. “Just having a friendly debate.”
The man looked away rather hurriedly and scratched at the back of his head.
Evie arched an eyebrow and couldn’t help herself. “He’s a Traevyn Whitelaw historian.”
The man glanced up in bewilderment, and his pale face flushed.
Traevyn regarded him. “Oh, well it’s good to meet such an avid fan.” He smiled and reached out to shake the man’s hand.
The man stammered for a few seconds, his blush deepening. “Yes, Mr. Whitelaw,” he finally got out, gripping Traevyn’s hand. “I am a huge fan.” He glanced at Evie. “Is this really your apprentice?”
“Yes, she is the most astute artist I have ever met. Why do you ask?”
“We were arguing over your painting here,” Evie supplied, indicating the canvas behind her.
Traevyn threw a look back at it and his lips split into a grin. “Ah, I see,” he said with a chuckle. “Yes, that one.” He met the eyes of the man in front of him. “A word of advice, don’t believe everything they teach you in school.” He winked at him and turned back to Evie. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” He took her hand and started to lead her out of the room when a tall, blonde woman and an equally tall man rounded the corner.
“Traevyn!” the woman called. “Oh how lovely to see you!”
Evie felt him bristle and she looked over at the woman. Slender, elegant, gorgeous… Evie averted her eyes.
Traevyn‘s sigh sounded weary. “Hello, Jane,” he greeted flatly.
“Well, I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”
“Just peachy,” he grumbled.
She made a tsk noise. “Oh I can imagine the last few years must have been so hard on you. You poor thing.”
Evie frowned. Poor thing? That was just rude.
Jane’s eyes fell on Evie and she made a face of disdain. “And who’s this?” she asked in a fake cheerful tone.
“Evie,” Traevyn introduced, “this is Jane Meadows. Jane, Evie Austin, my apprentice.”
She frowned. “Apprentice?”
He nodded. “Yes, she is an art student from SOU staying with me for the summer to study.”
Jane flashed the most nauseating smile Evie had ever seen and laughed amazing, fake laughter. “Oh, I thought maybe she was your girlfriend!”
Evie blushed. “Oh, no,” she said. Her voice sounded much too breathy and shy to suit her.
“Well, that’s good,” Jane continued. She turned her attention back to Traevyn. “I mean, not really your type, is she?” She gave another sickening giggle. “You usually go for such sophisticated ladies, not short, homely…little girls. I mean, she really wouldn’t fit into your world, would she?” She laughed as though her evil words had been a fantastic joke.
Evie looked down and time stopped. Those words… The words she feared the most. They echoed through her mind. She really wouldn’t fit into your world, would she? She bit her bottom lip and felt the familiar sting of tears. She forced herself to face Jane. She refused to cry in front of everyone and make a fool out of herself. She gave them both a wobbly smile. “Please excuse me for a moment,” she murmured.
Traevyn watched as Evie all but fled and he let out an exasperated sigh. Jane’s lips were twisted into an arrogant, satisfied smile and it sickened him. “Good to see you haven’t changed, Jane,” he snarled. “Class was never something you were good at.” He turned and strode out after Evie.
Chapter Twenty
Traevyn’s heart broke at the sight of Evie. She was sitting outside on a bench in between a bubbling fountain and a bronze statue of a fairy. The moonlight bathed her in silvery light and her face was in her hands. He could see her body shaking with sobs. It would have been a tragically beautiful sight if he didn’t care for her so much. He sighed. Seeing her so hurt stabbed at his heart. Everything in his world disappeared except for the desire to make her stop crying. He approached her slowly. “Evie,” he said in a soothing tone.
She looked up at him. “Oh,” she said, trying in vain to wipe her tears away. “I was just, uh…” She shook her head as fresh tears coursed down her cheeks.
Traevyn knelt in front of her and ran his hands up her arms. “Shhh, Evie. Please, please stop crying,” he breathed. “You’re killing me inside.” He reached up and cradled her face in his hands. “Don’t listen to Jane. She hates me because she tried to date me at one point and I wouldn’t go for it. Since then she’s made it her sole purpose in life to make my existence miserable.”
Evie shook her head. “It wouldn’t hurt so bad if what she’d said hadn’t been true,” she sniffed. “I am short and I’m not pretty. I know this. I accepted it a long time ago, but I don’t need it flung in my face. I know I’ll never measure up to any of the beautiful women you’ve known in your life, but I’m still human! I still have feelings!” She let out another little sob.
Traevyn frowned. “Never measure up— Not pretty? Evie, who has told you such things?”
“Oh, only every guy I’ve ever liked!” she spat.
He sighed and gently wiped at her tears. “Evie,” he said, “look at me please.”
She struggled with it for a moment. He saw the hesitation flash across her face, but she eventually managed to look into his eyes.
He studied her face. He had rarely seen her without her glasses and, since she had taken them off to cry, he took the liberty of appraising the contours of her face. So gentle and soft, all feminine beauty. “Evie, you’re right,” he stated. “You’re not pretty.”
She flinched as if she’d been slapped.
He smiled and cupped her cheek in his palm. “You’re gorgeous.”
She stared at him in baffled silence. “Wh—What?”
“Even gorgeous is too weak a word. Everything about you is exquisite. Your lovely hair.” He reached up to tuck back a wayward strand. “Your fantastic, curvaceous body.”
A soft blush touched her cheeks.
He smiled. “Your eyes that can see directly into my soul.” He ran his fingers down her cheek. “Your soft skin…” His eyes fell on her lips and he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. “Your full, supple lips,” he whispered, running his thumb along the bottom one. “Lips I ache to remember…” He slowly pulled her toward him, needing to feel a real kiss from her, needing to show her the things he felt, but had trouble expressing.
She seemed shocked at first, stunned and timid. He felt her lips tremble as they touched his, and she drew in a shaky breath that made him fill with desire for her. She made him feel so much. Her awe and admiration for his work made him feel like an amazing artist. Her gentle prodding and subtle reformation of his character made him feel like a human. The way she reacted to his lips on hers made him feel like a man. He drew her small, shaky breath into his body, breathed it into himself, and felt everything within him come alive.
He caressed her mouth with his, and all the feelings he had buried deep inside him came to life with an intensity that would have frightened him at any other moment.
He held her face in his hands like he was holding a fragile object, and he ran his tongue in a slow caress along her bottom l
ip before pulling it into his mouth, asking for entrance, needing to sample all the beauty he knew she possessed. It had been so long since he’d felt passion. It engulfed him like a tidal wave and he basked in it.
Evie’s chest constricted as he gently sucked on her bottom lip. She couldn’t breathe and her whole body tingled. Her blood burned through her veins and reality began to slip away. She opened her mouth for Traevyn, allowing his tongue to sweep over hers and claim her mouth. She clutched at his suit jacket, gripping the material as if afraid he might vanish at any moment.
For several heartbeats he continued to kiss her, to pour his very essence into her just as he claimed hers. When he pulled away, she was shaking badly, and she reached up to touch her lips. She met his beautiful, green eyes and he gave her a soft smile. It nearly killed her. Silent tears fell from her eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered.
His frown was quizzical. “Why?”
She looked down, the ache in her chest so acute she thought she would die. “Because I don’t think I can live without those now.”
He smiled and moved up to claim her lips again, taking his time, exploring until she was breathless and couldn’t take it anymore. “Traevyn,” she murmured, shaking her head. “I can’t do this. I have to go home.”
He nodded. “All right. Just let me tell the gallery director.”
She fought a sob that threatened to consume her and stood, putting some distance between them. “No, I mean I have to go home! Back to Oregon!”
He stared at her for a moment. “Why? You’re still supposed to stay with me for another month.”
She forced herself to meet his eyes, which was becoming increasingly hard to do. She’d never fit into your world, would she? She winced and looked down. “Because if I stay, I’m going to get really hurt and I just can’t do it. I’m sorry.”
He frowned and stood, going to her. “But Evie, I need you—”
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