When the Billionaire Begs novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: What You Said at the Mixer

I started the new painting that night, because I could not sleep.

It was nine o'clock, and my students had gone home, and the studio was dark except for the lamp over my easel.

The bell over the door rang.

Stellan came in with a paper bag that smelled of fried noodles.

"You didn't eat," he said.

"How do you know?"

"Your apprentice texts me now."

"I'll have to fire her."

"She'd just keep texting." He set the bag on my counter and looked at the canvas. "What is it?"

"A chair," I said. "Again. With a person in it this time."

He came to stand behind my shoulder.

I felt it before I saw it, a warmth along my back and the quiet of a man who was looking carefully.

"The shoulder's off," he said.

"I know it's off."

"Here." He put his hand over my hand, around the brush, and guided it. "Lighter. Let the wash do it."

My arm stopped shaking.

I had not realized it was shaking.

His chest was an inch from my shoulder blade.

I could hear him breathing.

The brush moved in a slow arc, and the shoulder came right.

Neither of us said anything.

I turned my head.

He was very close.

His eyes dropped to my mouth, and I forgot every word I knew.

His free hand moved to the edge of the easel and gripped it.

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