The Soul Painter by Dicey Grenor

Author:Dicey Grenor
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: suspense, magic, supernatural, interracial, goth, woman author, short and sexy, hea romance

Part II

It was as good as dark by the time an hour had passed, and I’d found my way back to the spot Mr. Montei had indicated. The lights had pretty much blown completely out by then and the rumble of the thunder outside had turned the convention atmosphere into something ominous instead of magical. With most of the convention attendees being rushed out due to the impending storm, the stadium now resembled a ghost town-slash-haunted house.

My nerves didn’t have time to become alarmed. At least my assistant had texted that she’d made it to her lodging safely.

“Are you up for this?” Chaos stood next to me with his elbow extended in invitation, his eyes expectant and eager.

Perhaps I was being too sensitive about the portrait matter anyway. Maybe my portrait, hell, even my soul, was so special to Chaos, that he didn’t want to paint it at the convention. He probably just needed privacy. Somewhere he could relax and not worry about a public display and reaction from onlookers. I was determined to put my hurt feelings aside temporarily to hang out with him. To see if the electricity we experienced from scarce touches could transfer to an explosion when we made love. Not to mention, there was the possibility he’d change his mind after we had sex. I imagined he’d be in a more agreeable mood. At least that’s what my assistant had thought would most likely happen when I told her he’d refused.

I accepted his offer by locking my arm around his. “Definitely.” I was up for anything with him.

Mr. Montei was going to drop us off at a hotel. We were going to have mind-blowing sex. Chaos was going to paint my Soul Portrait. And from there, we’d determine if we had the potential to be more to each other, perhaps even soul mates.

Grinning as we followed Mr. Montei out to the limousine, I mused on how my life choices had landed me here. I was once a struggling indie author without two nickels to rub together. Unknown, broke, desperate… Until my agent had made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Sure, it meant tweaking some things here and there to make my books more palatable to the masses. But those tweaks were necessary for success, and they afforded me high-value commercialism. The rest, as they say, was history. Selling out to my publisher, compromising on my values, sacrificing my artistic integrity… It had all been worth it to watch my destiny unfold. Even saying, “And may the darkness seep into you and capture your soul as you read this book,” fifty million times had been worth it. It had afforded me a life of luxury, adoring fans, and now a date with Chaos.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” Chaos whispered in my ear as he slid closer to me on the seat, “since I wouldn’t paint your portrait.”

“I better come. You better see to it that I do.” My eyes twinkled in the darkness with the devilishness of sexual innuendo and an ultimatum: Be good at this or else.

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