Page 12 of Brooke
“I think you do not see yourself yet as you truly can be. Without fear.” Axel strolled over to her, his glacier blue eyes scanning her face. “But your friend sees it.”
“I told you my studio was off-limits, Brooke!”
Sawyer burst into the studio, making her jump in place. “Sawyer?—”
“I was the one who came up.” Axel crossed and took Sawyer by the shoulders. “And I am so glad I did. I would have missed this beauty, this genius.”
Sawyer’s mouth dropped open before he narrowed his dark eyes. “False compliments will not make me let you decorate my studio.”
“Don’t insult me,” Axel scoffed. “I know genius when I see it. I am sorry you do not. Yet. Brooke, shall we go?”
She nodded hastily. Sawyer shifted on his feet, scanning his current array of paintings in different stages, as if looking for the truth of what Axel had said. Sadness crashed over her. Her friend looked like she’d felt before, vulnerable, as if he could break like glass.
“We keep telling you, Sawyer,” she said quietly. “Maybe hearing it from someone like Axel will finally convince you.”
What would it take to convince her?
When Sawyer didn’t say anything back, only hunching his shoulders, she let herself out of hisatelier, her heart heavy. Axel was waiting for her at the top of the stairs, his gaze troubled. “I feel for him. The transition from inner doubt to complete confidence is a difficult journey, but if I can make it, so can Sawyer.”
“You had doubts?” she blurted out. “Vulnerabilities?”
“Don’t we all?” He gave her that measured look again. “Or didn’t we discuss your difficulty in seeing your own beauty moments ago?”
Fine. If he was going there, she was going to call it out. “You think I’m beautiful? Really?”
“Exceptionally so.” He put his finger to his lips, his mouth curving in what appeared to be delight. “But attraction never interferes with my work, so do not be worried.”
The woman in her had a flash of disappointment before she pushed it aside. Not worry? Impossible. And yet…working with him was the chance of her life, one she wouldn’t allow any personal feelings to destroy. Hadn’t she been telling herself not to think about how he looked like the human incarnation of her very sexy Ivar? “I am glad to hear that, Axel. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
“Excellent.” His hand lowered, and a warm glint flashed in his eyes, brightening the blue tones. “I am delighted we are of the same opinion, Brooke. Then how about dinner this Friday?”
His request shorted her rational thinking for a moment before another match—no, a whole matchbook this time—flared in her chest. In her mind’s eye, she could see him sitting across the table from her, caressing her hand, hanging on her every word. She blinked herself back from madness. “Pardon me, but I thought you said you didn’t let…attraction…get in the way of your work.”
“It won’t.”
His deep voice was matter of fact. She studied his face, all the gorgeous broad planes and angles of it, as confusion teased her mind. Clearing her throat, she fought the urge to tap her nails together nervously. “I believe I’m confused.”
His large hand reached out and curved around her shoulder, the weight and feel making her skin sizzle like one of Madison’s entrees on the stove. “Brooke, nothing interferes with my work. Ever.”
Funny, they were speaking the same language, and she still wasn’t understanding. “Maybe if you explained it in French. You do speak French?”
“Yes, along with a few other languages.” He launched into the language of her heart, caressing the words with his deep voice. “I believe you are verybeautiful and surprisingly funny. I already knew you were smart and terribly compelling and insightful after reading your articles. I very much wish to have dinner with you.”
Her heart sped up.
“I also want you to know that where it leads—whether to a passing moment or a flicker of more—will never interfere with our project. Because my work is everything. It’s the only thing I can trust to last.”
The full understanding struck her finally. They could crash and burn and his single focus would remain. “That is a unique perspective,” she said shakily, her knees back to trembling.
“It’s from my Nordic ancestry. They were a courageous, fatalistic lot who never passed up an adventure. High risk tolerance, you might say. Life gives us variables to choose from all the time. Nothing in anyone’s future can be foreseen, but many of us cut ourselves off from traveling down a so-called uncertain path. We fear what we will find on the journey.”
She stopped breathing. Did he know he’d just described her usual approach to life? She planned everything down to a dime in her day planner. Yes, because she was afraid disaster would come if she didn’t. “You don’t fear life’s dragons?”
He lifted a massive shoulder in an awe-inspiring shrug. “On the contrary, I experience fear like everyone. I simply refuse to believe dragons are lying in wait. How many adventures would I miss if I did? If I find one, I change course or I slay it.”
“Your practicality is refreshing,” she said even as she felt like she might start hyperventilating. She couldn’t imagine going about her life without planning ahead for possible pitfalls.
“I think you underestimate yourself and your personal courage.” He took his hand off her shoulder, but she wanted to snatch it back. “Again, our lives are filled with choices. Finding you beautiful and wishing for more of your company outside of decorating this house is one. But as I said, my work is part of the very soul of me. That is always constant, and it’s a principle I will remain true to. Now do you understand?”
