Page 10 of A Baby to Make Her His Bride

While family and guests had condoled in drab colors, speaking in heavy, somber tones around her, she had scribbled sunset orange and aquamarine against patches of vibrant violet and dusty denim. Hunter had patiently read the labels to her until she knew their names by sight, not yet able to read them herself.

She still reached for colors and patterns when she was agitated—electric lemon and fern green, smooth lines and pleasing balance. It was more than an effort to create order when her life was out of control. It was about taking something difficult and messy and finding the good in it. The beauty.

Given what she’d been through in her lifetime, she ought to be a heralded artist with several showings under her belt by now. Sadly, she had not dropped everything and picked up her sketch pad every time she was overlooked by her father or humiliated by her stepmother or disappointed by her husband. More often than not, she had channeled her emotional energy into creating a better Vienna. Her insecure self had always reasoned that she was the thing that needed work, otherwise all of those people would have treated her better.

Thus, she had learned to use a makeup palette so she appeared prettier. She had learned to accessorize a couture dress with the right designer handbag and custom jewelry. She could arrange flowers and host the perfect party and recover from whatever farce her stepmother turned an occasion into. She had learned to decorate a home so people would think her life within it was magazine perfect even when it was the farthest thing from it.

She didn’t know how to gloss over what had happened on the beach, though.

Her foot had slipped. She hadn’t been paying attention because she’d already been disconcerted by that man in a hundred different ways and when he’d caught her close, something had happened to her. Her skin had come alive. She’d felt so sensitized that she’d practically felt the whorls in his fingerprints against the bare skin of her arm. A sweeping sensation had flown through her, like a breeze that picked up all the brittle leaves within her, wafting them away.

The libido that had never been very strong, and which had sunk into a veritable coma through her marriage, had awakened in a blunt rush. Her lungs had gulped for air as if she’d been underwater for too long. Polarities in her blood had aligned to point at him.

He had released her, but slowly, ensuring she had her balance.

She hadn’t.

Her whole world had tilted on its axis.

It had hit her that not being married meant the wide chest of a man wasn’t something to admire objectively as an artist. It was something that could be attractive in a more physical sense. A carnal sense.

She didn’t have carnal feelings, but he was so close, and the memory of that strong wall imprinted on her so tangibly, the memory of wanting to splay her hands across his pecs and feel him. Explore.

This welling of sensuality was so new, it had felt like a spell. As she looked up at him for an explanation, she’d been mesmerized by the glints of molten silver in his blue eyes.

Her heart had flipped over. The charged air between them shimmered, making colors more vivid, the sound of the waves more lush. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, he’d left a sensation there sharp as a bee sting.

This is desire, she had realized through her haze.

Ironically, she recognized it because she’d never felt anything like it before. She had always been convinced that movies and books exaggerated the basic physiology of arousal, but this flood of heat and awareness was exactly as had been described. A fire had been lit within her, one that softened her knees and made her throat feel tight and held her trapped firmly in the moment.

She wanted things in those charged seconds. Explicit things. His mouth. His touch. The right to touch him back and the knowledge of how his voice sounded when he was aroused. She wanted to know how he smelled and how his body would feel against hers. She wanted his weight upon her and the sensation of him thrusting inside her.

The corner of his mouth had curled with anticipation, sending a fresh spear of white heat into the pit of her stomach.

Panic had then clogged her throat.He knows, he knows!

She had turned away, hurrying back here to the house, but there was no escape. She could try to get lost in Caribbean blue and prairie yellow and arctic white, but he would catch up to her eventually.

She sat on the deck off the kitchen, barricaded behind one of her new sketch pads and a fresh box of colored pencils. When she heard him come in through the door to the basement she wanted to die. Crushes were for thirteen-year-olds, not a woman finally taking the wheel of her own life.

He didn’t come upstairs right away, though, and she recollected the weights she’d seen in the basement. She had a feeling she had interrupted his workout when she arrived so, when she realized he was staying down there, she relaxed and became more intentional in what she was doing.

Her goal this trip was to work on a portrait of Peyton for Hunter and Amelia. For now, she got to know her colors and paper by calling up different photos of objects that she’d loaded onto a digital picture frame specifically for this purpose.

She was soon immersed in layers of color, playing with pressure and line thickness, only to be yanked from her concentration when she heard the shower come on upstairs.

He was naked up there?

Don’t think about it.

She did, though. She clenched her eyes shut, trying not to, but her artist’s imagination conjured a vivid image of suds tracking through Jasper’s chest hair, down his abdomen and into the crease between his thigh and—

Nope.

But now she was back to dwelling on how obvious she’d been on the beach. She wanted to duck her head into her arms and sob with embarrassment. It had been bad enough when he had acknowledged that he was judging her unfairly. That had pulled the rug out from under her, but then she’d let him see how astonished she was by her own ability tofeel. How gauche!

The worst part was, now that those stupid feelings had been awakened, they sat under her skin like fresh tattoos, hot and livid and undeniable. She would never be able to hide them again.

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