Page 2 of The Charmer

“We always have a choice, Miss Wallace,” he said, his deep voice resounding in the high-ceilinged room, as sexy as the rest of him.

Damn it, and that was with his clothes on.

It had been way too long since she’d been on a date. She definitely had to get out more if scoping out the models, a routine aspect of her work, had her practically swooning.

“Actually, I don’t have a choice. If I can’t capture you on canvas and sell the painting for the fortune I’ve been promised, I lose this place to some slime-ball developers who’ve been buying up the rest of this street.”

Confusion clouded his eyes for a second before a tiny frown creased his brow and his smile vanished.

Great, she was scaring off prime model material before she’d even started.

Blowing a stray curl out of her eyes, she said, “Sorry to dump all that on you. I tend to babble when I’m nervous and to be honest, I haven’t done nudes in quite a while. Guess I’m a bit bashful.”

She averted her eyes and crossed the room, her beaded flip-flops slapping noisily against the polished Tasmanian oak boards, not wanting to see him staring at her as if she had two heads. Or worse, laughing at her. She’d always hated being laughed at, something the kids she grew up with at the orphanage soon learned.

“You think I’m here to model?”

After locking the door and flipping the sign to ‘closed’, she swung back to face him, wishing she didn’t need the money so desperately. Nothing was worth this awkward tenseness, even if he was the first guy to capture her attention in a long while.

“Aren’t you?”

Her gaze flicked over him, starting at his almost-black hair worn a tad too long and curling at the collar of his navy polo shirt, over the snug way the shirt’s cotton moulded his impressive chest, and downwards, where faded denim encased long, lean legs.

No doubt about it. Perfect model material, and he would be incredible to paint if those muscles hinted at beneath his clothes were as impressive as she thought. But there was something about him…something off-putting, like he didn’t belong here.

He paused, staring at her too intently as if making up his mind about something. Well, she would have to make it up for him. She didn’t have all night and as much as she didn’t want to do this, the sooner they made a start the better.

“Look, I know this is awkward for both of us. Why don’t we head out the back and I make us a nice cup of honey and ginger tea? It’ll help us relax.”

Unlikely, because how discombobulated this guy made her feel, she’d need to drink five kettle’s worth to calm the hell down. “You can get changed behind that screen over there and I’ll be back in a minute.”

Ariel couldn’t fathom the shock in Cooper’s blue eyes as she headed into her studio. She expected to hear his footsteps following her and when he didn’t move, it hit her.

His confusion, his reticence, his cocky cover-up act: this had to be his first time posing nude. He was probably more nervous than her.

Pausing in the doorway, she turned back to him, hoping to allay some of his discomfort.

“Cooper, if it makes you feel any better, you can keep your underwear on for this sitting,” she said, with her best smile, much cheerier now she knew someone else in the room felt more embarrassed about this whole fiasco than she did.

Chapter Two

Cooper didn’t move.

He couldn’t. He tried but both feet seemed firmly rooted to the spot as he watched the woman float through a curtain of shimmering purple glass beads after sending him a bewitching smile that could make a guy seriously rethink his career.

After all, look at the way his mind was working at the moment. He’d gone from Melbourne’s number one property developer to artist’s model—nude model—in less than a flash of pearly whites set against a luscious rosebud mouth.

He must be losing it.

All those extra hours at Vance Corporation trying to make a name for himself must’ve fried his brain.

This was obviously a silly case of mistaken identity and the sooner he cleared it up, stated his business, secured what he’d come here for, and headed back to the office, the sooner he could launch his dreams.

“Cooper? Tea’s ready. Come and get it.”

Squaring his shoulders, he pushed through the ridiculous dangling beads in the doorway, getting caught up in the process. After disentangling himself, he stepped into a magical cave.

At least, that’s what it appeared to be. In each corner of the large room, swatches of gossamer-thin gold fabric hung from hooks on the ceiling and fell to the floor in cascading waves. Two ruby sofas sat at opposing ends of the room, covered in royal blue and purple cushions. Unlit candles of all sizes, shapes, and colours covered every available surface, while oil paintings of every description covered the walls.

---