Naked Canvas (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (7 page)

“I wonder who she learned that from.”

He grinned. “Listen, I know that you’re mad at me, Angela, but you need to understand that some things are out of our control, like our meeting in art class. Like what happened last night. And like Gillian bursting in and ruining everything. Things happen that we don’t expect. Some good. Some bad. The trick is to stop trying to be in control all the time. I promise, your life will be better for it.”

He stared at me intently as if I was supposed to gather some deep insight from his words. I didn’t know what he was getting at, nor did I care.

He shook his head. “Anyway. What do you say? Give me another chance.”

I sighed and shook my head. “I can’t. I just can’t. If I let you hurt me again, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“There’s just no way I can know that for sure.”

“Okay, just business then. I still want you to model for me. I was serious when I said I found you inspiring.”

I waved a dismissive hand at him. “I am officially done with modeling. Thank you.”

“Just one more session.”

“No. Believe me, I could use the money, but it’s not for me.”

“One more session. Twenty-four hours. And I’ll pay your tuition next semester.”

My jaw dropped open. Literally. “What the hell? Are you a millionaire or something?”

“No, not a millionaire.” He got a twinkle in his eye. “I’m pretty sure I’m worth more than that.”

I looked him up and down. “A billionaire? You don’t dress like a billionaire.”

He shrugged and raised an eyebrow. “And just how should billionaires dress?”

“I don’t know. Tailored suits. Silk ties. Shoes that cost more than my rent.”

“What’s the point of being rich if you have to wear a tie all day? Isn’t the point of having money to be comfortable?”

“I suppose.”

“Are you saying you don’t like the way I look in this?” He gestured at his clothes. He wore a dark green button shirt with the sleeves rolled up his brawny forearms. The shirt was form fitting. Tight enough to accentuate his broad shoulders and his muscled arms. He looked quite good in it, to be honest, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“Anyway, I don’t care how much money you have. You can’t just buy me.”

“I’m not trying to buy you. Just your time.”

“So you want to rent me?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. It’s like any other job. You show up. You do your work. Then you get paid.”

I considered it. I didn’t have a lot of other options to make tuition for next semester, and I would never get another job offer like this in a million years.

“If I say yes, and that’s a really big if, there will be no sex. I’m not a whore. This is just business.”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And I need the money up front.”

“I can have a cashier’s check waiting for you at my studio, but you won’t get paid until the twenty-four hours is complete.”

“Fine, but you’re paying my rent for next year, too.”

“Deal. Give me a number and I’ll have it ready. Any other terms?”

“No.”

“Good. My only requirement is that you have to promise to do whatever I say for those twenty-four hours.”

“I said no sex.”

“You and I will not have sex, but other than that, you do whatever I say, no questions asked. If you refuse or if you leave, the deal’s off.”

I got an uneasy feeling in my stomach. “What do you have in mind?”

“That’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

He looked into my eyes. “Yes or no? In or out? Answer me right now.”

“Fine. I’m in.”

He extended his hand. “Shake on it.”

We shook.

“So when do we do this?” I asked.

“Tomorrow. Seven a.m.”

Chapter 8

I stepped up to the old factory building just as the sun broke over the city skyline. My eyes skimmed up the red brick until they found the fifth floor windows where Dominic’s studio sat perched over the surrounding blocks. I had promised myself I would never go back there, and yet, there I was.

The sad fact was that everyone, including me, had a price. It was a terrible thing to know about myself, but there was no escaping it. Dominic had found my price and there was no way I could say no.

My only consolation was that we had agreed on some boundaries. No sex. That would keep him from taking advantage of me, at least. That meant all I would do today was model. Sure, I had sacrificed some of my principles by agreeing to the deal, but modeling was a real job. It was a perfectly respectable occupation, and he was paying me over a thousand dollars an hour to do it.

I just hoped I didn’t end up trading my soul for it.

I hit the button for his studio on the intercom and he buzzed me in. I found my way to the elevator which opened immediately. The last time I’d been in there, I was scrambling to put my clothes on while wearing only a sheet. I was dressed quite a bit more modestly this morning. I wore my standard jeans and a sweatshirt. I didn’t feel the need to dress up for him this time. This was business. Not pleasure.

I emerged on the fifth floor. There were only two doors in the hallway, one on either side. Dominic’s studio was the one on the right, and the door was open. I stopped in the doorway and looked in.

The place looked different in the amber light streaming through the tall windows. Now that the dark corners had been lit up, it seemed bigger than I’d realized the other night. The circle of standing lights in the center of the room brought back bittersweet memories. I forced all thoughts of our one night stand out of my head and focused on why I was here.

Dominic stood at the counter of the little kitchenette off to the right. I smelled the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Anxiety about what today would bring had kept me up most of the night. My body craved caffeine.

“Can I have some coffee or am I already on the clock?” I called over to him.

He turned around with a smile on his face.

“Angela. Good morning. I thought you and coffee weren’t speaking?”

“Yeah, well, we’ve reconciled our differences.”

He poured me a cup and passed it to me as I walked over to him. He was dressed in dark linen slacks and a crisp white button shirt that was open at the collar. His hair, as always, was a beautiful mess.

“Nice outfit,” I said.

He spread his arms. “Thanks. Someone told I wasn’t dressing properly.”

“That someone was right. You definitely look the part now. Although you’re missing the coat and tie.”

“Well, I have to draw the line somewhere.” He gestured to the counter. “I have some croissants and stuff.”

“Thank you, but I’m not really hungry.”

He frowned. “You should probably eat. Once we get going it might be a while before we stop.”

The specter of the next twenty-four hours hung over me, banishing all traces of hunger.

“Maybe later.” I sat down at a small round table positioned against the wall. The warm mug felt good against my cold hands. “So what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Oh, I have some ideas. First things first. Here is the cashier’s check for the agreed upon amount.” He held it up so I could see it. My mouth almost salivated at the number printed on it. “I’ll leave it on the counter. It’s yours at the end of the day. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Good. Now take off your clothes.”

I paused with my coffee halfway to my lips. “So we’re just jumping straight to naked, huh?”

He shrugged. “No sense in wasting time. Twenty-four hours can fly by faster than you think.”

“Have we already started?” I asked.

“We start the moment you get undressed.” He pointed at a massive digital clock on the wall. The bright red numbers said 24:00. “That’s when I flip the switch and the countdown begins.”

“Can I at least have my coffee first?”

“Of course, but you’re welcome to do both. I can get some sketches in as long as you don’t move too much while you sit there.”

“That’s not very artsy is it? A naked woman drinking a cup of coffee.”

“Oh, I don’t know. There’s the juxtaposition between the mundane and the erotic. It’s taking something ordinary and making it exciting with an unexpected image. It’s sex and breakfast, two things everybody has but one is boring and the other is only talked about in whispers and behind closed doors.”

I raised a hand to interrupt him. “Enough already. I’ll get undressed.”

I stood up from the table. The bright light streaming through the windows lit up every corner of the room.

“Can people see in through the windows?” I asked.

He glanced around the studio. “No, they’re mirrored on the outside. It’s perfectly private.”

“Fine. Go lock the door. And deadbolt it. I don’t want any unwelcome visitors today.”

He walked away with quick, sure strides. I could see the muscles of his back rippling through his shirt. When I was sure he wasn’t looking, I kicked off my shoes before hurrying off my sweatshirt and unzipping my jeans. They wiggled down my hips along with my panties. Then I unhooked my bra and tossed it on the rest of the pile.

By the time he turned back around, I was sitting at the table again sipping my coffee, trying to pretend that I wasn’t naked and totally self-conscious. My back was straight and rigid so that my breasts were pushed out and my stomach didn’t stick out so much. I heard his breath catch and smiled inwardly, proud that I could have that effect on him.

“That’s a good look for you,” he said.

I smiled and sipped my drink. He pressed a button on the timer on the wall. The numbers began to countdown, and just like that we’d begun.

He gathered up his pad and charcoal and sat a few feet away from me. He had a side view of me. Not my most flattering angle. I tried not to squirm too much under his gaze.

I watched him from the corner of my eye. He brushed the charcoal against the page in wide sweeping strokes. If this was any indication of what the rest of the day was going to be like, it wouldn’t be so bad. Being naked and studied was nerve wracking, but still, this would be the easiest money I would ever make.

We sat like that for a while. The only sound in the studio was the scratching of charcoal on paper. I was filled with a burning curiosity, not just about what his current drawing looked like, but also about what other kinds of art Dominic would create today. When I was his subject for fifteen minutes, he had created a captivating sketch of me. It was an image that gave me insight into who I was and what kind of person I wanted to be. I could only imagine what sort of masterpieces he might unveil after twenty-four hours.

When I had finished my coffee, I set the mug down. It made an empty, hollow sound on the tabletop.

“Finished?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Great. Now that you’re warmed up. I have something for you.”

He walked to a screened off part of the loft and came back holding a paper shopping bag from a store I’d never heard of. Inside was a shiny black leather thing.

“Here, put this on.”

I took it from him and held it out in front of me. It was a leather corset. Bright silver buckles jingled as I turned it this way and that, trying to get a handle on the thing.

“I’ve never worn something like this,” I said as I peered at it, trying to figure out how to put it on.

“That’s fine,” he said. “I’ll help you.”

He took the corset from me and leaned in close. My body tensed.

“Relax,” he said. “Hold up your hair.”

I gathered my dark locks into a makeshift pony tail. He slipped a strap over my head and rested it along the back of my neck. He unfolded the corset like wings and slipped it around my torso.

“Wait,” I said. “It seems too small.”