DangerbyDalliance (4 page)

Latimer shot him a meaningful look and bowed to her. “Miss
Rigdon.”

“Mr. Latimer.”

The door closed behind him.

She was alone with Mr. Dorvee. A man she had met only once,
very briefly.

The man who now expected her to get undressed, let him stare
at her and capture all her imperfections for eternity on canvas.

The artist—she had no idea if he even had the slightest bit
of talent.

The last aspect was the only one she could do anything
about. Sarah leaned over, picked up the sketchpad Dorvee had dropped and looked
through it. It took her breath away.

Here was the façade of Westminster. The next page featured
the face of an old woman. Then there was a group of kids flying kites in the
park. Another page showed a couple, that despite keeping the proper distance
between them practically screamed their care for each other.

This man, this artist, saw everything. Nothing escaped him.
And with just a few lines in charcoal he captured the essence of his subjects.

And he hid none of it.

The beautiful and the ugly and everything in between. He
brought all of it out on paper.

And now he was about to use her as his model.

Sarah wasn’t sure if she could stand what his image would
show of her.

Warren watched her flip through his book. He wanted to pace
up and down the room or wring his hands. It had been a very long time since it
mattered to him this much what someone thought of his art. With each picture
she looked at, her shoulders tensed further and further, and she came close to
wrinkling the pages with the force of her grip.

When she came to the end she slowly closed the pad and
looked up at him.

His breath caught.

“You have an amazing talent, Mr. Dorvee.” She held up his
book. “These are as beautiful as they are disturbing.”

Warren exhaled with relief. She liked his art. “Why do you
say disturbing?” He sank onto the sofa opposite her.

Sarah flicked through the pages until she reached a
particular drawing. It was the one of an old lady he’d seen sitting in the sun
in Kensington Gardens. He’d asked her if he could sketch her. She had laughed
and then given him permission.

“In this picture you show her life, everything she’s been
through, the laughter and happiness as well as the pain she’s experienced.” She
looked up at him. “You revealed everything about her.”

She closed the book again and set it aside. “It is just a
little disconcerting to know how well and how deep you can see.”

Warren wondered what she feared he’d highlight. He wanted
nothing more than to dive into the sketching, but it was obvious she wasn’t
quite ready. “Miss Rigdon—”

She snorted. He raised his brows in question.

She exhaled and met his gaze. “The way I understand it, I am
expected to undress down to the skin and pose for you as naked as the day I was
born. It just feels somewhat odd to continue to use my surname and Miss.” She
pulled back her shoulders. “Please call me Sarah.”

Warren smiled. “Only if you call me Warren.”

She nodded and looked around. “How is this going to work?”
She pointed at the wall of windows showing the garden. “There doesn’t appear to
be much privacy.”

He jumped up and walked to the right end of the windows. “We
can change that.” He turned a switch and a wall of wooden window coverings slid
down, making it impossible to see in or out. He pulled a second switch and
well-placed gas lighting flared to life across the room. He preferred drawing
in daylight, but this was a small compromise. “Is this better?”

She studied the narrow wooden boards on the sliding rail and
nodded. “It must be good to have a housemate who knows how to build things.”

Warren laughed. “More like I am the guinea pig for
everything he comes up with or stumbles across.”

Sarah nodded but stared at her toes. “Mr. Dorvee…Warren, I
have to admit this situation is somewhat difficult for me.” She raised her
hand. “I am not trying to welsh on the agreement, but I am not particularly
comfortable with undressing for you.” She gestured. “I have never posed for an
artist and am uncertain about what to do.”

He studied her. She needed to trust Archer and him, and that
would take a little time.

He took her hands in his and loosened the tight fists. “How
about we start slow?”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Warren pulled her up from the sofa and directed her to the
folding screen.

She paused and stroked her fingertips across the decorated
silk covering the panels with a sensuality that made him wish he were the silk.
“This is beautiful.”

“It’s from Japan. Cherry blossoms have significant meaning
in the local culture and it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever
seen. The creator was an artist.”

She turned to him. “Like you.”

Warren smiled. “Thank you. Now, how about you only take off
the dress and shoes and leave on your underthings?”

Color flushed into her cheeks. He ignored her embarrassment
and continued to smile. “That way I can begin my sketching and you have
opportunity to get a feel for how I work.”

She nodded.

Warren exhaled as she stepped behind the screen. Man and
artist battled inside him for dominance.

Both of them wanted Sarah.

Wanted to touch her, to feel her, to release the fire
burning inside her. He pushed his fingers through his hair. This he had not
expected. He had to stop his imagination from running wild when he saw the
shadows of her movements and the sounds of clothes dropping.

Giving her an out and starting slower than planned had not
been a conscious decision. Seeing her distress and worry had been too much for
him and he did believe the slower pace would help them in the long run.

Sarah stepped out from behind the screen.

Warren swallowed and was glad his shirt wasn’t tucked into
his trousers. He preferred loose clothes when painting and now it helped cover
his hardening dick.

She looked beautiful. Her corset followed her gorgeous
curves, cupping her breasts and presenting them to him. He wanted to stroke
across the appealing mounds peeking out behind the chemise. Her fine cotton
drawers hugged her round bottom and followed the lines of her legs to end in
lacy ruffles just under her knees.

He frowned at the number of mended areas. They had been done
with a very fine hand, but no matter how good the quality originally, her drawers
were not new.

Despite that he wasn’t surprised that her underwear was more
sensual than her outerwear.

She clasped her hands before her breasts.

He gently unclasped them and guided her to stand in front of
the now-closed windows. “Just stand here. Don’t worry about posing or standing
a certain way. Today is all about you being comfortable and growing more
familiar with my process.”

Some of the tension drained out of her body and her lips
quirked. “Thank you, Warren. I appreciate your patience.”

Despite the slight softening, her shoulders remained tense
and her legs stiff.

Warren didn’t comment, instead grabbed his sketchpad and
dropped to the floor in front of her. He caught her frown out of the corner of
his eye. “I usually move around when sketching.” He looked up. “This is just my
starting point.”

Sarah looked about as comfortable as a long-tailed cat in a
room full of rocking chairs. If Warren stood an automaton beside her he didn’t
believe he’d see much difference between the machine and her.

He cleared his throat, struggling not to get caught up in
the visual stimulation of her luscious body. “Posing for any length of time is
exhausting, so we’ll start with thirty-minute intervals.” He set his wrist
alarm before looking up. “Please don’t hesitate to let me know if and when you
grow tired.”

She raised her brows. “I am just standing here.”

Warren nodded. “But you are doing it while trying not to
move.”

Sarah frowned. It was clear she didn’t believe posing to be
strenuous. He would let her learn from experience.

He began sketching, completing a rough draft of her whole
figure before focusing on individual parts.

“So.” Her smile was more of a grimace. “Where did you buy
the beautiful screen?”

“In a small shop in a town called Kyoto.” He captured the
curve of her chin on paper. “The town had a beautiful craft fair I wanted to
explore and Archer discovered this little hole-in-the-wall shop.”

Her eyes had gone wide enough to double as saucers. “You
traveled to Japan?” She leaned forward. “What was it like?”

Warren paused in his sketching. The lines missed his usual
smoothness, but he didn’t dare to drop off into what Archer called his state.
When he did that his focus on the subject before him was absolute. Some of his
models expressed that he became overbearing and impolite. One had even called
him a dominant mug, but that was after he’d ignored her continued advances.

He studied Sarah, the softening in her body and excitement
on her face. He wished her eagerness had a very different target, but at least
she no longer resembled a piece of metal. Under normal circumstances he would
reprimand his model for moving, but he was just glad they’d found a subject
that helped her to relax. “It was an amazing voyage.” He looked back down on
his pad, capturing the curve of her lips and slight upturn in her nose.

“Archer went to meet with a number of engineers. He’ll be at
our next session, so you can ask him about his experiences.” Warren laughed.
“It is a very, very different world. They think us the barbarians, but keep all
their thoughts hidden behind a polite smile. We stopped in Hong Kong, where we
were lucky enough to find someone who could give us insights into Japanese
culture.”

“Such as?” Her hands, squeezed together so tight they were
white, slowly loosened and her smile grew more natural.

He grinned. “We spent an extraordinary amount of time
learning how to bow.”

Her brows shot up and he captured that instance of
bright-eyed innocence. For a second he imagined what would be in her eyes after
Archer and he had introduced her to the desires of the flesh.

Sweat gathered at his lower back and on his upper lip.

Now was not the right time to let his imagination wander.
“You have to be very careful. If you bow too deeply you indicate that the
person before you is superior. If you don’t bow deep enough you insult your
host and say you are more important.”

“But wouldn’t it be fine to bow too deeply and indicate
one’s appreciation for the host’s position and the welcome one received?”

Warren met her eyes. Intelligence sparkled in them.

“Excellent thought, Sarah, but it automatically puts you in
a weaker position at the negotiating table.”

“Really? How fascinating.” Sarah rolled back onto her heels
before realizing what she did and standing straight again. “Is it true that
they eat raw meat?”

Warren shared his knowledge of Japanese cuisine and was
delighted to discover Miss Sarah Rigdon bright and genuinely interested. Unlike
many people he had shared his travel stories with, she had no prejudice or
judgment of different cultures. Only interest.

A lot of it. His throat turned dry with all the questions
she asked. He couldn’t remember sharing this much of his experiences and
emotions with a person he’d only met once before. It felt as if he were talking
not to a stranger, but a friend.

A friend who made him hard with every movement, who drove
his hunger with every smile and every laugh.

Warren wanted more. And he wanted it now.

With brute force he reminded himself to be patient and to
enjoy her vibrancy.

His wrist alarm rang and Warren set down the pad. “Let’s
take a break.” He rose to his feet. “Walk around to get your blood flowing
again.”

“Goodness, has it been thirty minutes already?” She rolled
her shoulders and walked around his studio.

He poured both of them a glass of water and sank onto the
sofa, desperately trying not to stare at her curved rear. She was more relaxed
after their conversation. Her natural sensuality shone like a beacon.

Warren set the glass on the floor and rose from the sofa.
“Let’s get back to it.” Usually he would give his model more of a break, but he
needed something to drag his thoughts away from her seductive presence.

The artists needed to take over from the man.

She smiled and walked back to the spot she’d stood in
before. This time around she was much softer.

He wanted to turn the conversation more private, learn about
her wishes and dreams. This was only the first of many sessions to come and as
much as he wanted to, he shouldn’t rush. He gritted his teeth, followed the
line of her neck curving into her shoulder with the charcoal in his hand. “Have
you had opportunity to travel?” he asked, returning to their previous
conversation.

She laughed.

Warren looked up at the bitter undertone and lack of humor
in her voice. It didn’t match her usually so melodic tones. For a second rage
flared in her eyes, but then her expression returned to what he was getting to
know as her polite face.

“No. Unfortunately my duties have kept me in the city. My
father and I had opportunity to go to Sheffield a couple of times, but it was
on business, not pleasure.”

He nodded and focused on his pad for a moment. He had a
feeling there was far more to this than she let on.
Patience
, he
reminded himself.
Don’t ask questions that will only drive her behind her
walls again.
“If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you like
to go?”

Excitement lit up her face. “I would love to explore Japan
and Hong Kong. I have heard so many exciting tales. India is another place that
appears to be an amazing destination.” She chuckled. “I am reading all about
South Africa.
The Daily Telegraph
has a wonderful series going at the
moment.”