by Annie Seaton
“I guess it is the way we express our true selves. Are you familiar with Picasso’s words?” Nic asked.
Gia took her attention from the canvas and turned to him. “Words or works?”
“Words. He once said, ‘I experience a period of frightening clarity in those moments when nature is so beautiful.’” Nic pushed himself to his feet and picked up a brush and looked around for the other palette he had noticed earlier. “That’s what it’s like for me. Art lets me express what I see, in a way that I can’t put into words.”
Gia had turned back to the canvas, and he watched as the brush quickly filled in the few white areas left. “That’s why I want to go to the Academy. To learn all those sorts of things. To find a reason for what drives me.”
“I don’t think you need to go anywhere to find that out. You have it already, Gia. To paint the way you paint is to show a little bit more of your soul on every painting you do.” He picked up the palette and moved across to the easel near the highest window. He could see the night sky from there. “How do you feel when you have finished a painting and you stand back and look at it?”
“Outside of it. In a way, I hate the feeling. It is confusing for me. Everything I’ve put down on the canvas is there in front of me. It’s me but it’s not in me any longer. It takes a while after I finish before I can look at what I’ve done and see past what I felt, and actually see the picture I’ve created.”
She stepped back and looked at him as he began to mix his colors. “Thank you. You have no idea how good it is to talk to you like this.”
“My pleasure. And I’m looking forward to getting your exhibition together. Tomorrow I’ll make some calls, and we’ll make some firm plans. Okay?”
The last thing he was aware of before he turned to the canvas was the beautiful smile on Gia’s face.
…
“Nic?”
Gia’s voice interrupted him at the same time he noticed the rosy glow to the east. As he watched, a golden ray of light split the cloud, and the rising sun broke the horizon. A fine strand of cobweb linking two scarlet geraniums shone in the soft golden light.
“Nic?” This time Gia’s voice was louder, and he put down his brush, rubbing his eyes before he turned around. Talking to Gia about what art meant to him last night—was it really morning already?—had released something inside him. The hours had passed silently as each of them had been immersed in their own work. God knows how much longer he would have worked if she hadn’t spoken. But even as he’d painted, his mind had been working and he’d made a plan for her exhibition. All he had to do was make some calls today to set it in motion. It was as easy as that. His thoughts turned to his own painting as he’d worked. It was her passion and that passion spilled over to the bedroom. He knew now he didn’t hold that passion for art. Yes, he loved it and wanted to be involved with it.
Being on the Board of Trustees for the gallery would fill that need.
Why do I still paint? After spending time with Gia he suspected it was really more to do with that promise to his mother. As much as he’d dreamed of leaving the family business, Nic knew his passion was not enough to sustain life as an artist. He was an organizer who was gifted with some talent. Art doesn’t drive me. Not like he’d seen it drive Gia as he’d watched her work.
He yawned, stretched, and slowly turned around. He barely remembered taking his shirt off in the early hours as he’d become focused on his painting. Gia’s face filled his vision and he grinned. Scarlet, golden-yellow, and a long slash of cobalt blue paint covered the right side of her face where she’d obviously been pushing her hair back. He dropped his gaze lower; her cropped T-shirt was covered with paint and he let his eyes linger on the peaked nipples that were standing out through the thin cotton.
“You look like one of the characters from Avatar.”
…
Her heart raced as Nic slowly walked across the room to her. Her mouth dried as he lifted his arms and stretched, his muscles rippling across his back. When he turned around, her breath caught. A broad chest, lightly dusted with dark hair, with a tattooed word across the center took her mind far away from the work she had been engrossed in all night.
“Avatar?” She frowned as he drew closer, trying to keep calm but the thudding of her heart was filling her ears.
“The movie.” He reached up and brushed his fingers down the side of her face. And a grin lifted his lips. “The one where their faces are blue. But yours is blue and yellow and scarlet.”
She laughed and reached to the workbench for a rag. “So I’m a messy artist. But look at you.” Not that she wanted to, she was having trouble keeping her eyes off Nic’s bare—but clean—chest. “How on earth do you paint without getting covered in paint?” Gia kept her face straight as an idea flitted through her head. “Look, even your hands are clean.” She shook her head sadly and let out a fake sigh. “Not a real artist, Nic.”
Nic’s smile was teasing. “I guess my technique is a tad superior to yours.”
Gia turned casually and picked up her paintbrush, which was loaded with the last of the blue paint. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Let me help you.” Before he could guess what her intention was she lunged at him with a laugh and painted a splotch of bright blue on Nic’s cheek. “Now you look like a professional.”
Nic reached for the hand she held the brush in, but Gia was ready for him and slipped beneath his arm. She ran around to the other side of the workbench as laughter overcame her. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist. You are a blank canvas waiting to be painted.”
His eyes narrowed as he picked up another brush from the table and dipped it into her signature scarlet paint. “You are so going to pay for that.”
Gia took a step backward. She waited until Nic was almost close enough to reach her before she ducked down and crawled beneath the table, coming up on the other side with a triumphant cry.
“A bit slow, Nic? You’ll never catch me.”
His eyes danced with mirth, and Gia grinned back at him.
“We’ll see about that. If you think you are going to get away with that, you are in for a big shock.” Nic put one hand on the sturdy bench ready to jump over it. “You think you know macho? I don’t like to lose, Gia… In fact, I always win.”
Gia threw the brush down so she could make a quick getaway. Keeping Nic and the paintbrush he held in her sights, she backed toward her bedroom where there was a shower in a tiny en suite bathroom. If she could just get to the door… She turned and ran.
“Not so fast, madam.” Nic dived around the edge of the bench, and Gia ran toward the door with a shriek.
She almost made it, but his hand descended on her shoulder before she could turn the handle. He twirled her around and kept his hand firmly on her arm as she stared up at him and the paintbrush he held above her head. His dark blue eyes were alight with laughter, and Gia couldn’t help the giggle that spilled from her lips. Life had been too serious for way too long. A warm rush of happiness flooded through her as she stared at his hand poised above her.
When did the joy of living disappear from my life? There was more to life than immersing herself in her art.
She avoided Nic’s gaze and kept her eyes fixed firmly on the brush as it slowly inched closer and closer to her face. Her stomach fluttered—those damned butterflies had swooped back in, and she forced herself to stay still.
“Hmm. Let me see. Can I find a spot that needs attention?” Nic’s voice was low, and he was so close to her it vibrated through her skin. Gia looked down at his chest and her eyes lingered on the beautiful script that was embedded into his skin.
Coraggio.
“So that is the tattoo. Courage, Nic?” She grinned up at him as she placed both of her hands on the word that was inked on his skin. “I have no doubt you have plenty of that.”
Slowly he lowered the brush, and for a moment, Gia thought she’d escaped retaliation for daubing his cheek with paint.
“Maybe you need a lit
tle courage. Do you think, bella?”
He grabbed both of her hands with one of his and held the brush high with the other. Her breath caught as Nic used his body to gently push her back against the wall. She watched, fascinated, as he lowered his head and caught the thin straps of her singlet top in his teeth, and the stubble of his chin brushed her shoulder as he slid the strap down with his teeth. A shaft of pure desire ran from her shoulder and honed straight between her legs. If Nic hadn’t been supporting her with his body, Gia would have slid down the wall into a useless heap; her legs were trembling with anticipation.
She swallowed and lowered her voice. “Courage for what?”
Nic lifted his head and held her gaze. “To have faith in yourself and your exhibition.” His eyes were half-closed, but Gia watched with fascination as he leaned back and lowered the brush. The first strokes on the top of her breast were feather soft. A half swirl for the C and her fingers tingled with the need to touch Nic, but he still held her hands firmly in his. His brow was creased with concentration as his eyes remained firmly fixed on her breasts as the brush tickled her. The circle for the O was painstakingly slow, and she was sure he was deliberately taking his time to complete each letter. The R was completed just as slowly, and Gia closed her eyes when Nic began the next letter. The paint was cool on her skin, and the sensation of the tip of the fine brush was sending quivers to her belly.
“Hmmm. We have a problem.”
Gia opened her eyes and smiled as she met Nic’s intent stare. “You’ve run out of paint?” she asked, not sure if she was pleased or disappointed.
“No, your shirt is in the way of the bottom of the two Gs.” Nic’s grin was pure fun. “I need to do this properly.”
“So what will we do?” Gia licked her lips with the tip of her tongue as she looked at Nic’s bare chest in front of her. Sure enough each G had a long tail that curled around like a crab claw. She took great satisfaction in Nic’s soft groan as he stared at her mouth.
“I can’t lift your shirt over your head because the paint is still wet. That would ruin my fine work.” His voice was husky. “If I let your hands go, can I trust you not to run away?”
“I’d hate for you not to finish the job you’ve started.” Gia’s voice was just as low and husky as Nic’s. “How about you let me go, and I’ll pull my shirt down?”
Nic nodded, holding the brush high as Gia kept her gaze on his. He placed his other hand on the wall beside her head. She let the tip of her tongue rest on her lips as she held the bottom of her short T-shirt with her fingers. Gently she tugged it down until it began to slip over her skin. Nic’s eyes bored into hers as the soft fabric slipped lower and lower, slowly revealing her bare breasts. He held her eyes with his and didn’t look down until the soft cotton was pooled around her waist. Only then did he drop his gaze, and Gia straightened her shoulders as Nic’s sigh washed over her.
“Much better.” This time he let her hands stay loose, and Gia clenched her fists as Nic ran the brush down her right breast, slowly and gently in a long curl until it reached the tip of her nipple.
Gia had never experienced anything as erotic as the feel of the wet sable brush as it circled the areola of her breast. A touch as soft as a feather as he formed the letter, Nic’s attention was solely on her breast and the movement of the brush. Gia’s attention was fixed on his hand as the brush dipped lower. The final two letters were completed and Nic leaned back with a soft huff of satisfaction.
“Beautiful work, if I do say so.” He put the brush down on the small table beside them, and cool air rushed onto her skin as he moved his body away from hers. “But I guess you can’t see it, can you?”
Gia shook her head wordlessly. Her skin was hypersensitive to Nic’s touch, and she shivered as he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her closer to him. The warmth of his hand travelled down her back and swirled around until it burst into heat that radiated throughout her entire body. She caught her breath as his lips came closer to hers and finally took her mouth. His other hand was still on the wall beside her, and he didn’t touch her anywhere else. Only his mouth touched hers, leaving Gia trembling as his tongue danced with hers. Finally, he placed a last lingering kiss on her mouth and drew back, his breath brushing her still sensitive lips as he spoke.
“Do you have a mirror?”
“In my bedroom.”
…
Nic had held himself back from the minute Gia had interrupted him while he was painting. The instant he had turned around and seen her, desire had flared though him. Her nipples had stood out through her thin shirt and her softly parted lips were open invitingly. But most enticing had been her playfulness when she had teased him. The game he had punished her with had been more a punishment for him—painting her breast slowly when all he wanted to do was drop his head and take her breast between his lips had been torture.
Now he looked down at her. Her expression was bemused, and he was tempted to kiss her again, but instead he held out his hand.
“Take me there and you can see,” he said, as Gia put her paint-stained hand trustingly in his. “Please.”
Silently she led him into the bedroom, and he drank in the curves of her slender bare back. She’d dropped her shirt in the hallway. Her skin was flawless and the curve of her back as it reached her waist, enticing. He forced his gaze away from the sexy indentations at the base of her spine. He looked up and met her eyes in the mirror. Both of them were as dark-haired as the other, but while Nic’s hair was in a neat, short cut, Gia’s was a messy tangle of curls around her head. His mouth dried as he stood behind her and watched as she lifted her hand and placed her fingers above the still damp paint on her breast.
“Coraggio,” she whispered. “Yes, I will have courage.”
Nic lowered his head and placed his lips on her neck, and she trembled against him as he sucked on her skin. With a groan, he lifted his head slightly and murmured against her ear. “What do you want to do now? Do you need to sleep?” She leaned against him, and her bare skin rubbed against his chest. She arched her neck and reached back, lifting his hands and placing them on her breasts.
“Touch me.”
Nic needed no more invitation. He half-turned her around before lifting her in his arms. The bed was unmade, the blankets hanging over to one side. Nic pushed them aside with his leg and lowered Gia gently onto the bed. Her hair spread out on the white lace pillowcase in a black tangle, contrasting with the smudges of paint on her face. Her lips parted softly and the tip of her tongue appeared. It was the stuff of his dreams.
His need was so great, it was almost desperation, and he was overwhelmed by an urgent desire to take Gia without any of his usual preliminaries. He knew how to arouse a woman, but he also knew that she was ready for him. No gentle touching, no playful kissing was needed. He stood beside the bed and looked down at the woman lying in front of him. No artifice, no care about how she looked. Her hair was wild, paint covered one side of her face—Nic let the smile cover his—and the word on her breasts marked her as his. It was a shame it wasn’t permanent and would wash off.
For tonight, she was his and he would claim her. But he forced himself to go slowly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he reached across and slid her loose pants down over her hips. Gia lifted her hips so they slid off easily. His breath caught in his throat as he realized she had nothing on beneath them. As he watched, Gia parted her legs in invitation. Nic lowered his head with a groan and his mouth was on her before he could think. His tongue found her center unerringly, and it was only seconds before Gia cried out. He slid his hand up to grasp her hips and kept sucking and licking as she climaxed.
“God, oh God.” Gia whimpered and her sweet scent surrounded him. He buried his face in her warmth as the ripple of her muscles slowed beneath his lips.
He lifted his head and she rolled away, opening the drawer beside the bed. Before he had realized what she was doing, she’d snapped the foil packet open. She sat up and reached for
him, letting a little smile cross her lips as Nic groaned. She opened the button at the top of the jeans and held his eye as she undid the zipper. Nic did the rest; he stood and pulled them down and then lay beside her. Slowly she slid the condom over his erection, concentrating on firm but smooth movements as she took him in hand. When he was sheathed, she lay back on the pillow and opened her arms to him. Nic’s mouth met hers as he slid into her, taking care to support himself with his arms so the paint didn’t smudge. Their teeth and tongues clashed in a searing kiss as he moved, teasing her, taking her to the brink and pulling back again. When he lifted his head, she turned hers from side to side, her chest heaving as she gasped in deep breaths. His bare skin against hers, his heat deep inside her, she gave into the new orgasm that was building deep within her. He watched her, and she kept her eyes open as the waves of exquisite pleasure rolled over her, and she stared back into his deep blue eyes.
She opened her legs a little wider as his thrusts became stronger and lifted her hips off the bed to meet him. He stiffened when she wrapped her legs around him to take him even deeper, and Gia cried out with him as he followed her to his own release.
Chapter Eight
Bright sunlight shining on his face woke Nic with a start. The sun was high in the sky, and he looked around, but there was no clock in the room. Gia’s legs were entangled with his and she slept beside him, breathing softly through slightly parted lips. He lay there for a moment looking at her. Her black hair was spread on the pillow and her cheeks held a soft rosy flush. The white pillowcase was now a myriad of colors from her cheek. Just looking at her sent another surge of desire running rampant through his blood. He rolled away carefully, and she slept on without stirring. He lay back and put his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell had hit him.
Two days—only two days—and this woman had him under her spell, and it worried him. This loss of self-control was unfamiliar to Nic. He couldn’t figure Gia out. She was an enigma. One minute she seemed shy and her lack of conviction frustrated him—the next, her vitality surfaced and she went for what she wanted with a ferocity that amazed him. From a quiet woman with her head bent, to a confident woman with a wit that made him laugh. And a touch that had given him pleasure for hours until she’d fallen asleep in his arms.