Page 5 of The Charmer

Like taking in a runaway eight-year-old and giving her a home, something Ariel had never had before. “She was a Brunswick Street icon.”

“Sounds like quite a lady.”

Touched by the admiration she heard in Cooper’s voice, Ariel continued babbling about a subject close to her heart. “That’s why this particular portrait is so important to me. I need the cash to keep the gallery open and I need it ASAP, so if I seemed a bit pushy earlier, I’m sorry.”

“Chalk it up to the temperamental artist, huh?”

“You got it.”

Ariel lifted her gaze from Cooper’s shoulder to his face, hearing the gentle teasing in his voice and liking it way too much.

She didn’t date much, she didn’t socialise a lot. Keeping the gallery open and viable took up all her time and she liked it that way. Work she could rely on; people, rarely.

What was it about this guy that her wishing for something more? Wishing for an easygoing companion at the end of a hard day to listen to her rambling, to give her an encouraging smile when she needed it, to tease her?

“We’re done,” she said all-too-briskly, snapping shut her box of charcoals and running a weary hand over her eyes, more to block out the sight of Cooper’s body than anything else.

Now that she’d stopped working, seeing him almost naked took on an intimate connotation, when the last thing she wanted or needed was to associate the words ‘naked’ and ‘intimate’ with him.

Especially when she had at least another four sittings until she completed the painting.

“Great.”

He slid off the stool and she quickly averted her gaze, not wanting to see any more than she had to, sure his butt would be as toned as the rest of him.

“So is it finished?”

“What?”

She sank onto her ergonomic seat, blowing on the annoying curl that consistently fell across her eyes no matter how much she moussed, gelled, or waxed it, relieved he’d popped behind the screen in record time.

“I take it I’m all done here?”

His voice drifted over the screen and she closed her eyes, its rich timbre eliciting visions of smooth whiskey in front of a smouldering fire.

Great. Apart from needing to get out more, maybe she should air the studio better. The paint and turpentine fumes were definitely getting to her.

“You really haven’t done this before, have you?”

“Uh…no,” he said, emerging from behind the screen, his appeal not diminished in the slightest by clothes.

Especially now she knew exactly what lay beneath.

“Well, let me clue you in. You sit, I sketch, draw, paint, whatever it takes to get this baby done. Tonight, I sketched your basic form but there’s a lot more to be done.”

Like sketch his whole form, but she wouldn’t think about that right now.

“I don’t think—”

“You’re not paid to think, you’re paid to sit. So, how does tomorrow evening suit you?”

By the pained expression on his handsome face, it looked like he equated having a wisdom tooth extracted without anaesthetic to posing for her again, and she rushed on, not giving him an opportunity to refuse.

“No problems? Good. See you here at seven. You know the way out.”

Ariel bolted up the stairs to her apartment, waiting for the front door to shut before sidling down again. After the inane chatter and banter she’d exchanged with Cooper, the gallery’s silence seemed almost oppressive.

Sighing, she flicked off the light switches, secured the front door, and headed for the stairs. However, the lure of seeing what she’d achieved tonight pulled her toward her easel. Usually, she preferred to leave her work overnight and appraise it with a fresh eye in the morning, but not tonight.

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