Okay. “So you won’t call me Jackie, but I’m supposed to use your nickname?” Hardly seemed fair.
“No one calls me by my full name.”
Curiosity pulsed inside of her. “And that full name would be what?”
He took a few steps toward her. “Rembrandt.”
She blinked. “Like the artist?”
His jaw tightened. “Just call me Remy.”
But he wasn’t Remy. He was Rembrandt. And he was an artist just like his namesake. An artist who wanted to paint her.
He stopped right in front of Jacqueline, and she could have sworn that the heat from his body slipped out to wrap around her. “You’re clearly running from something.”
More like from someone. “What gives you that idea?”
His hand lifted, and he brushed back a lock of her hair. The same lock she’d tucked behind her ear moments ago. The dang thing had slipped forward once more. When his hand drew close to her face, she stiffened. A move Jacqueline couldn’t help. She stiffened. Maybe even flinched.
His jaw locked. “Who hurt you?”
“I haven’t been hurt.”Yet.That would be why she was running. “I just wanted to start over.” She would miss her old life. She’d worked so hard to get it.
A faint line appeared between his brows. “You wanted to run away in your wedding dress—”
“Nota wedding dress. It was just a white dress, okay? And I didn’t know the engagement party was going to happen. That was sprung on me. Before I understood what was happening, the ring was on my finger, everyone was clapping and…” And she needed to stop talking about this. “It wasn’t going to happen. There was never going to be any marriage.”
“Because you didn’t love the groom?”
Dammit.“Because he utterly terrifies me. Happy?”
“Not in the least.” Anger seemed to churn in his voice. “I don’t want you terrified.”
Remy didn’t evenknowher. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t particularly like to be terrified. I think most people feel the same way.”
A muscle jerked again along his jaw. “I have a deal for you.”
“A deal? I was sort of hoping for a ride.”
“A ride to a destination that you haven’t even decided yet. Doesn’t sound like the best plan to me.” His gaze pinned hers. “We’ve now established that you were runningfromsomeone. I’m offering you protection.”
This couldn’t be happening. She opened her mouth to tell him that very thing, only to hear the loud, echoing ring of a bell. A doorbell.
“Company,” Remy murmured. He didn’t look away from her. “What are the odds that our early-morning visitor is here for you?”
She lunged toward him. “Please, donotturn me over!” Her hands curled over his arms.
“As far as I know, you’re running from a man who terrifies you.”
The doorbell rang again. Yes, she was running from a man who utterly terrified her.
“Maybe we should talk about our deal a bit more,” Remy added.
“What’s the deal?” Frantic, she looked toward the den. And the door that was just beyond that den.
“You be my muse—my model. Don’t worry, you can keep your clothes on. If that’s what you want.”
Her grip tightened on him. “Remy…”