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,
almost as surprising as the room full of artwork. “They’re beautiful,”
talented…I just can’t
believe they’re of me.”
sag with relief from across the room.
to tell him that
I felt about him, I couldn’t deny that the work was stunning — he’d captured my likeness in a way that was even
more beautiful version of
he said, and slowly
life beauty.”
blush from covering my cheeks at that remark — even if it was definitely not
“How long have you been
up behind me, pulling me to
being honest, being pressed against his toned, warm
in me.)
I was a child,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down my arms, “But I’ve done it less and less
my duties as the heir and
face him until we were only inches apart. His
and I felt my heart go
is this man
the second I saw you, all I wanted to
every position. You’ve been my living, breathing muse, Clark Bellevue. Even when you left me,
Every beauty mark on your face, every
reminder that if you’re not reading this book on n??el5s.com, you might be
free! My face was definitely on fire
was saying to me – I had
He was igniting me.
past twenty-four hours vanished. The fact that
and essentially kidnapped me didn’t seem to matter at
the man who set my heart
and who’d just called me his
together,
long as I live, little fox.” He was so close that
eyes were just
glanced at his lips. They’re so full. I wonder what he tastes
pipe up and tell me that
grand romantic gesture,
I had to practically jump on my tip-toes to reach his lips, but
and pulling me close.
And the kiss?
fireworks, it was every magical, cliche description that you could use to describe a kiss. It was
when I was sixteen. That was just two people
an excellent kisser. His lips were soft and firm against mine, and we seemed to find our
awkwardness. Like we’d been made for each other.
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