Wrong Job: An Enemies-to-Lovers Billionaire Romance by Lexi Aurora

Author:Lexi Aurora [Aurora, Lexi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aurora Passion Publishing
Published: 2018-04-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13: Violet

I looked around in wonder at the paintings all over the walls, leaning against them or hung neatly for display. There were dozens of them all over the place, different faces looking at me from every corner. The style was beautiful—fluid as water colors but with a heavier style, eyes alive, faces lit up and expressive.

“Amazing,” I breathed as I went to look at them closer, circling around the room. I could feel Cooper’s eyes on me as I looked around, and when I looked at his face it was filled with interest and curiosity.

“You like them?” he asked. I nodded, faintly tracing the outline of one with my fingers, the gentle curves of a woman with her hand over her mouth, a sly smile hiding behind it.

“Who is this?” I asked.

“A girl I met once,” he said. “Most of these people are those I’ve seen in passing. I don’t use photos.”

“So you just remember their faces?”

“For the most part,” he said softly. “Sometimes I have to fill in the details.”

I looked at him over my shoulder. “That’s crazy.”

He laughed. “So I’ve been told.”

“You’re so good,” I said. “I can’t believe it.”

“No?” he asked, grinning at me. “Didn’t think I had it in me?”

“Most cowboys aren’t known for their artwork,” I said.

“I’m a little different than most cowboys,” he said. “Don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” I said to him coyly, moving over to his workstation, where there were dozens of bottles of paint covering the table. There were multiple brushes, too, large and small. I had never seen a set-up like this, so full of options and opportunities. I turned to him, taking a deep breath.

“You’re really going to make me do this?”

“I’m not making you do anything, Violet,” Cooper said. “But I want this. I want to see what you can create.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he said, coming up behind me. “I want to know everything about you. I want to see your art, your body, your smile.”

I shivered when he said the words, trying to ignore them as I picked up a palette and a couple of bottles of paint.

“Are you going to watch me?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said simply, sitting on a stool in the corner of the room. I took a deep breath, staring at the canvas, my mind wandering where it always did when I painted. There was a certain blankness, yet a clarity that I never had any other time as I started to paint. I could feel his eyes on me and yet I wasn’t nervous. Every brush stroke made me feel safer, more in my zone, until I forgot he was in the room almost completely. I didn’t know how long I painted before it was over, a canvas full of scarlet red, deep purple, the colors of passion.

“Lovely,” he said, and I realized that he was right behind me. I turned to him, looking into his face. His gaze was narrowed and hot, lingering on my lips.

“Why won’t you let me kiss you?” he asked.

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