Zach stared at her, and she stared back. She was sick of being the nice half sister. Living in a battle zone for the last five and a half months was damn tiring and stressful, and not at all conducive for her creativity. She needed to be relaxed, composed. She needed to redirect her energies back to her work. Especially when she painted James Dyson.
Paint James Dyson? What the hell? As if that’s happening.
“Sienna?” Carrie’s concern scratched at her fraying nerves. “What’s up?”
Zach threw the empty Coke can over his shoulder and pushed past Sienna. “I’m outta here.”
“Zach—”
“No, it’s okay, Carrie,” Sienna interrupted. “Let him go.”
Carrie flinched as Zach slammed the door. “Not one of his happier days.” She shook her head and gave Sienna a sad frown. “Posing for Playboy? Where did he get that from?”
“A part of me wishes I was. Zach’s in trouble again. People-threatening-to-sue trouble.” She scrubbed at her hair. “Maybe, if I posed for Playboy, I might make enough money to pay them off?”
Carrie giggled. “Probably. Platinum Joe’s daughter in the buff would definitely sell magazines. But just think about thousands of strange men drooling over your bare butt.”
A finger of heat traced its way down Sienna’s spine. Thousands of men seeing her naked? No, just one. One specific man.
“Give him time,” Carrie said.
“What?” Sienna’s heart slammed in her throat. “Give who time?”
James? Give James time until what? He sees me naked?
“His dad’s in jail,” Carrie continued, unaware. Sienna let out a ragged breath. Zach. Not James. “His very extravagant lifestyle has been taken away from him and he’s getting to know a sister who—up until five and a half months ago—was just a name his dad use to throw around every now and again. The strange one of the family who turned her back on the money, the parties, and the famous and beautiful people to become a poor, lowly artist. He needs to readjust.”
“I know.” Sienna ran her hands through her hair again. For once, she wished it was Zach on her mind.
Why had she immediately thought of James when Carrie talked about men seeing her naked? And why on earth had she thought of painting him? That wasn’t going to happen. It wasn’t. She had too many other things to deal with to worry about the arrogant bastard and his annoying affect on her body and sanity.
Like how she was going to tell Mason Xavier, her one benefactor and only source of steady income—and the one person she could not refuse—that she had to refuse his latest commission?
Sienna frowned. She couldn’t. That was obvious.
She would have to paint James’s portrait. Hours and hours, possibly even days, alone with the man. Looking at him, studying him, being in his company.
A sensation stirred low in her stomach. Hot fingers of want twisted into the junction of her thighs and throughout her body. Her pulse quickened.
“Oh. Oh!” Carrie’s cheery voice popped the silence like a champagne cork. She straightened in her chair, grin wide. “I’ve got the solution. Have great sex with James tomorrow. Have the best damn sex ever. Blow his mind. Hell, blow his everything. Make him your sexual slave, make him fall madly in lust with you, and then ask him to fix everything. The guy’s got more money than God, after all.”
Sienna rolled her eyes. If only her stomach would stop being a fluttering nest of insane butterflies. Great sex with James… “Great plan.”
Carrie’s grin stretched wider. “Isn’t it?” Her eyes flashed with devious mischief. “Besides, all you seem to be painting nowadays are those erotic orgy scenes. You obviously could do with some great sex.”
“Gee, thanks.” Sienna pulled a face, even as a dirty image sprung in to her mind at the mention of great sex with James.
A very dirty, very appealing image.
Hell, she was in trouble.
Chapter Three
Smiling, James returned the phone on his office desk to its cradle. A strange warm thrill echoed through him, and he smiled wider.
He’d half expected her to back out, to refuse Xavier’s commission. He knew she was stubborn—his research on her since Clinton’s funeral told him she didn’t bow to pressure easily, and when she set her mind to something, she stuck to it, a quality he couldn’t help but admire—but her dire financial situation clearly outweighed her dislike of him.