She was stunned. “You want me to pose? Nude?"
"I would be honored."
"Wow. I don't know what to say."
"Say yes."
She should have been appalled by the idea. She wasn't. Famous artist and sculptor Gideon Adrian wanted her to pose for his next incredible work of art. Well, she had wanted to do something to liven up her life, hadn't she? This was her chance.
"Yes,” Lori rushed out. He smiled, and it made her think of a panther who'd just caught dinner. Her insides quivered.
"We'll start tonight,” he announced, then rose from the booth. After placing some bills on the table, he took her hand, led her out of the bar. Then his words sank in, and she tugged him to a stop.
He turned, a frown creasing his brow. “What?"
"Tonight?"
Gideon winked. “I don't want to wait.” Then he started walking again. She pulled on him once more, and he turned a questioning look her way.
"Gideon, I can't just go home with you and pose. We've only just met!"
Gideon's gaze darkened. “We may have only just met, Lori, but I felt a connection to you the minute I saw you. If you fear me, don't. I promise not to do anything to make you uncomfortable. We can go as slow as you like,” he assured.
She was beginning to feel a little silly. “I'm not afraid,” she avowed. “It's just that ... will you want me nude? I don't think I could do that."
He reached up and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers, then whispered, “We won't do anything that feels wrong to you, okay?"
She should tell him they could meet sometime during the day, make an appointment for the sittings, or something along those lines. That would be the smart thing to do. The responsible thing.
"Okay."
It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. Butterflies played in her stomach. If only her mother and sister were there to see. They'd both have heart failure! Neither of them was used to their spinsterish Lori being spontaneous, or doing anything risky for that matter.
Gideon Adrian placed her once again inside his sexy Jag, and Lori squirmed with a rush of joy. This was bound to be one for the record books.
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Chapter Three
The bronze statue stood three feet tall on a shiny black pedestal. It depicted a man and woman making love. It was reminiscent of Gideon's other works. With this one, the man was standing, and he was holding the woman in his lap. She had her legs wrapped around his waist. It was titled: Tortured Heart. Curious name for a pair of lovers.
"They're obviously in love, why the name?"
"Are they?” Gideon's brow quirked up. “Look again, Lori, and tell me what you see."
He stared at her, waiting for her answer. She looked back at the statue again.
"The woman's very tall, very thin. Painfully so. The way her hipbones protrude, it looks agonizing. And her face...” She stopped and stared at the woman's expression.
"Go on,” he gently urged. “What about her face?"
"She's ... sad, which seems strange to me."
"Why?"
"Shouldn't she be excited? Swept away by the sheer joy of it? And her hands.” She narrowed her eyes. “They're clutching onto him, digging into his flesh. It looks like it would hurt. It's as if she's afraid he'll drop her, but he's so powerful and strong. She must be as light as air. She's making love, but..."
"But?"