Blue intensity flicked and met hers. “This is beautiful. Very beautiful. Please keep doing it.”
She didn’t know why it sounded so personal and why her throat was tightening, but she didn’t try to analyze it. Instead, Alexa nodded and didn’t say a word as she left him to continue his perusal.
The itch was unbearable. It was the one an artist got when they discovered something wonderful and didn’t have time to finish it—and in this case, the wonderful was Edmund Wilder and the opportunity he presented. Her mind formed the way she could paint his lower portion and capture the smirk on those lips, subtle but rife with mischief. Her fingers wanted to touch the brush and make his cheerfulness come to life, then wanted to make it feel like the watchers were sensing his secrets and amusement just by looking at the canvas.
She mulled over it. When it tipped over into an obsession, she knew she just had to finish it and was texting him nonstop, only to be answered with the same thing each time.
I’m so busy now, my love. Rain check?
Either he forgot that she wasn’t one of his pets with the pet names or he was dismissing her deliberately, but it made impatience drum in her nerves. Suspicion came after and had her visiting the art studio, finding it empty, then tracking down his office building and lingering outside. Businessmen came and went, but it wasn’t until late night had fallen and most floors’ lights turned off that she deduced he might not be there. She turned to leave.
“What are you doing here?”
She almost jumped back but managed to keep her footing as she gaped at Edmund standing at her side. He had a steaming cup in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other, immaculate in his suit. But there were telltale signs such as the uncombed hair and the shadows under his eyes.
“Are you avoiding me?”
Her question had his brows furrowing. “Of course not. If I was, I wouldn’t be confronting you now. Is that why you are shadowing me?”
“Well…”
“By any chance, were you suspecting I was doing some illicit activities and wanted to catch me in the act?”
“Did Billy do that?”
His poker face said it all, but he sniffed and looked the prissiest that she had ever seen him. She bit back a smile.
“All I can say is you might as well leave because there’s nothing suspicious or illegal here. I’m just a man with loads of paperwork needing sustenance of the non-human kind.”
She glanced at the paper bag once more, then at him. An idea formed, perhaps a bad one, but she blurted it out.
“I can paint you.”
“Say what?”
“While you are working,” she clarified. “So that your time will still be yours.”
“I thought artists don’t want to paint businessmen.”
“Just a sketch. I feel…rusty. I want to practice on you.”
Amazement bubbled up in his features as he tilted his head. “Sure. Come on.”
The agreement came so fast that she could only blink at his retreating back before she was shadowing his steps. Inside, cool air-conditioning blasted her skin, but a coat was tossed her way.
“I like the cold when I’m working,” he said.
“Are you sure there are no coffins and lurking vampires around here?”
“Just me as far as I’m concerned. All the other vampires have clocked out for the day—not that we have a lot of them working here. Humans are the best when it comes to handling all the types of clients that come through the door. Here we are. Lucky for you, I have a secret stash.” He gave her a small safe from a stack of safes in a closet. “We are an architecture firm doing marketing as a sideline, so we always gift this.”
“That’s clever.”
“Indeed. Now, I must finish something. Do as you please.”
Just like that, she was left to her devices, sitting on the couch in his office, where no paintings were hung, and everything felt impersonal. Alexa observed her surroundings before she got comfortable. Then she examined the man she had come here for, a bit bummed that she couldn’t return to the canvas, but her pencil was already moving on the sketchpad.
She sketched something basic, turned the page, and did another when he removed his blazer. She paused on the third page when he made a call, unable to take her gaze off the Adam’s apple that bobbed as he spoke animatedly. She captured that, too, strokes flying over the page, before he threw his head back, and a delighted chuckle flew and flexed his throat.