Chapter 43

Chapter 43

“The most seductive thing about art is the personality of the artist himself.” (=

Paul Cezanne

Ive never thought of myself as explicitly beautiful. Pretty, maybe – if I was having a good day. But I had never seen myself

as a supermodel or even the kind of gir! that people looked twice. Growing up around tall, thin and chiseled people for most of my life might’ve had something to do with that.

However, as I stared at the art studio littered with paintings, sketches, and drawings of me, I couldn’t help but think I

looked beautiful in them. The artist had captured my likeness from every angle ~ there was a large oil painting of me

sprawled out in bed, a sketch of me smiling in the distance, and many more. Some of them were done in different styles

but all looked like candid moments, like the artist had been there and recreated them from memory.

Istared at a particular sketch of me staring down at a dinner plate. I recognized the food in the photo and the dress I was wearing. That had

been taken the night of the dinner party with Griffin.

Oh my God…he made these. He made all of them. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was the artist. I

doubted that anyone else would consider me such an interesting subject, and now that I was looking closer, these were

all moments I’d shared with Griffin in the castle.

All I could do was stare in awe. What were you supposed to do or say in a room full of beautiful artwork…that’s of you?

He was so talented, it felt like I’d slipped into Van Gogh or Picasso’s private studio.

“What do you think?”

I whipped my head around. Griffin was standing in the doorway of the studio with intense eyes.

Td been so caught up in my analysis of the artwork that I hadn’t heard the door open behind me.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. There was an emotion in his eyes that I couldn’t recognize but I could feel

the tension in the air. ‘Was he nervous?

“These are of me,” I said, “You made these?” I already knew the answer but I needed to hear it from him.

Griffin nodded and that’s when I clocked the intense emotion in them. Vulnerability. He averted his eyes from me but

there was a dark blush coating his cheeks. I’d never seen Griffin act embarrassed or bashful as long as I’d known him,

as surprising as the room full of artwork. “They’re beautiful,”

talented…I just can’t

believe they’re of me.”

across the room. Like he’d been gearing up for some rejection or

expected me to tell him that I hated

he’d captured my likeness in a way that was even brighter than real life. The girl in the paintings and the sketches were supposed to be me, but she

more beautiful version

and slowly approached me, “Although I

life beauty.”

blush from covering my cheeks at that remark — even if it was definitely not true. “Did you do

asked, “How long have

came up behind me, pulling me to his chest. I didn’t

being honest, being pressed against

in me.)

his hands up and down my arms, “But I’ve done it less

been too busy with my duties as the heir and lacking any kind

him until we were only inches apart. His dark eyes were on fire with

felt my heart go into

this man doing to

“From the second I saw you, all I

living, breathing muse, Clark Bellevue. Even

clearly in my mind. Every beauty mark on your face,

that if you’re not reading this book on n??el5s.com, you might

face was definitely on fire now and Griffin’s expression was so heated that I had to avert my eyes. The way

I had never

He was igniting me.

Griffin leaned in, every thought about the past twenty-four hours vanished. The fact that he’d

miles away, drugged me, and essentially kidnapped me didn’t seem to matter

just me and Griffin – the man who set my heart ablaze. Griffin, who had an entire

and who’d just called me

“That even after a lifetime together, I’ll

little fox.” He was so close

eyes were just as dark. Just

lips. They’re so full. I wonder what he tastes

tell me that I was just letting the mate bond get

in a grand romantic gesture, I closed the gap between

had to practically jump on my tip-toes to reach his lips, but as soon as I did,

and pulling me

And the kiss?

sparks, it was fireworks, it was every magical, cliche description that you could use to describe

was sixteen. That was just two people awkwardly mashing their lips together.

and firm against mine, and we seemed to find our rhythm

learning curve, no initial awkwardness. Like we’d been made for each

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