An Artist's Kiss [Dark Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 4

  After a light lunch of a slice of quiche with a salad, Isabella stood looking in her wardrobe. She decided jeans and a long-sleeved tunic shirt would be the best things to wear. When she stripped down to her bra and panties to change, she giggled. Just for the fun of it she tried a few simple model poses and held them for five minutes.

  “Okay, that was fine. Let’s try something a little harder.”

  She draped herself over the blanket box at the end of her bed and counted slowly to three hundred. Feeling okay, she counted another two hundred before standing and shaking out her kinks.

  “Mm, about eight minutes. Could I?”

  Maybe. It would really depend on the pose.

  Her yoga regime had kept her very flexible. Then she berated herself for even considering it. She had a commission to work on.

  “But you wouldn’t need to start it for a while,” a little voice in her head reminded her.

  Plaiting her long thick hair into a single braid, Isabella dressed in her jeans and the dark green shirt then headed downstairs and into the kitchen. The house was bright and cheery. She’d always wanted to move back to the country, having grown up on a farm. Her parents had moved into a small cottage a couple of years ago. Now she’d bought this delightful old house. The moment she’d seen the sprawling two storey farmhouse she’d fallen in love with it.

  The cobblestoned yard with the outbuildings was charming. The main house had lovely mullion windows with a slate roof. The buildings were made from natural stone and rendered wall, believed to be from the middle of the 19th century. It even had an elegant balustrade staircase to the first floor that she loved. The two outbuildings were close enough to the main house that she had added a covered walkway to the one now converted to her studio. The other she used as her garage. There was also an annex that was really a fully self-contained house.

  Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined living on such a large and spacious property. Granted, she now had a mortgage. But thankfully with wise investments it wasn’t large and now she had this bull commission she should be able to pay off most, if not all, with her very handsome profit from it. All in all she was very happy to be finally living here.

  Isabella consulted Google maps and discovered it would only take her fifteen minutes at the most to reach this artist’s place. Gathering up her roomy camera bag, she dropped in her mobile phone, glasses, and wallet. She picked up her sketch pad and pencil case then went out to her car and began the trip. Feeling apprehensive as she drove, Isabella wondered how this would go. What if this Gabriel man was so besotted with the damn bull and decided she couldn’t photograph it?

  Following the car’s navigation system, she arrived at her destination.

  “Oh wow! That’s one fabulous place.”

  She drove slowly in through the wide stone gates and along a gravelled road toward the house. It looked amazing as Isabella drove like a snail, trying to take in the buildings. To her left was a separate large building built in similar style to the main house. To her right the main house—a lovely three storey red brick building with a pitched clay tiled roof. It was huge. An old wisteria bush covered part of the ground floor, adding to the charm. Ahead she saw Ian standing in a large gravelled courtyard. It had an area for plenty of car parking as well as a large circular patch of grass in the centre. Ian pointed to where a sedan was parked. Isabella drove past the house, into the courtyard and pulled in alongside the car. She got out, leaving her things inside until she knew if she had permission to see the bull or not.

  “Isabella. Hi, how are you?” Ian said as he shook her hand.

  “Hello, Ian. I’m well.”

  “I haven’t been able to get onto Gabriel again. He’s obviously back in the studio, hardly ever bothers to take a phone or turn one on when he’s in there. Come on.”

  Ian led the way past several outbuildings on the left, in front of her a large tree with a seat underneath offering shade and a pleasant view. The main house continued on the right before turning to the left in front of her. The building continued on and Ian told her this was originally detached from the main house but a previous owner had connected it. Gabriel now used it as his studio. There was a small garden with a path leading up to the studio door.

  “Okay, this is his domain.” Ian looked at Isabella and said warningly, “Block your ears. He’s probably got the music up loud.”

  Ian opened a large door and the sound of Beethoven’s 9th bombarded the senses. With Isabella following Ian, they walked down a corridor and then into the main studio. It was huge and Isabella felt a twinge of envy as Ian walked over and turned off a stereo system then beckoned her. Isabella could see the back view of a tall man as he stood, a paintbrush in hand, staring at a large canvas in front of him. Isabella couldn’t help but admire the view of him. A tight T-shirt showed off a very masculine back. His mid-brown hair was pulled into a messy bun on top of his head.

  “Hey, Gabriel.”

  Without turning the man replied, “What, Ian? Turn my music back on.”

  “I’ve brought someone to meet you. This is Isabella Coburn.”

  The man turned and Isabella couldn’t help her quick intake of breath. He was drop-dead gorgeous. The paint-stained shirt he wore fitted him so well, emphasising his physique, his jeans hung low on his hips, and one arm was covered in tattoos. Tall and lithe, he looked to be in his late forties or maybe fifty at the most. Isabella hadn’t felt this sort of instant attraction for a man since she was nineteen. She actually felt a tightness in her tummy and she was sure her nipples hardened.

  But it was his face that arrested her attention most as he walked toward her and Ian. Deep blue eyes actually bored into her. A close cropped beard and moustache gave him a sexy look. She felt herself blush under his scrutiny. He actually walked around her. Then he stopped directly in front, invading her space and looking down into her face. She noticed a streak of paint on his nose tip and it was hard to resist the urge to rub it off with her fingers. She wanted to touch the stubble on his face and run her fingers across his cheeks.

  “She’s perfect.”

  Isabella felt tongue-tied as he continued to stare at her. She could feel herself getting aroused at the intense look he gave her. She took a deep breath and the scent of him filled her nose—turpentine foremost but then a spicy male scent that had her clenching her legs tightly together.

  Oh my god, I want this man!

  Her thought stunned her. For the first time since forever she actually desired someone. No, that was wrong. This was more than just desire. This was a longing, a necessity. What was happening to her?

  “Strip off. I’d like to see you naked.”

  “Uh!”

  Isabella gave a little back stagger as his words shook her from her sexy thoughts. She knew her eyes widened as she looked from the man in front of her to Ian, who had immediately begun waving his hands.

  “No. No, Gabriel. You’ve got it wrong,” he was almost shouting. “This is the woman who wants to see Ferdinand. Remember I told you this morning and you said you wanted to meet her first.”

  Gabriel didn’t answer for a few seconds, still staring at Isabella. She felt as if he had stripped her naked in his mind. Holding her breath, she felt strange when he finally turned away and looked at Ian. Isabella exhaled loudly in both relief and disappointment that she was no longer the subject of that direct stare but her chaotic thoughts had her reeling.

  Puzzled, Gabriel cocked his head as he asked Ian, “Ferdinand?”

  “Yes. Remember we talked about it and you said you needed to speak with the woman first. Well, Miss Coburn is the woman.”

  His intense gaze turned back to Isabella. She felt the full force of his eyes again but now it brought long hidden desires into her mind. She attempted to push them away as his pupils dilated and seemed to fill her sight. No matter how much she tried all she could think of was this man’s strong hand on her arse, her hands tied above her while he whispered erotically in her ear. She
felt her face suffuse with blood as a blush rushed upward.

  “You want to photograph my bull?” he demanded.

  Isabella swallowed, trying to pull her thoughts back to the conversation but even though she managed to speak, all the while she kept imagining his hands on her naked body.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I would.”

  “No.”

  Now she felt confused. “What?”

  “You can’t.”

  Isabella looked at Ian, pleading for his help with her eyes.

  “What gives, Gabriel? Surely it won’t hurt.”

  Gabriel turned away and walked back to his canvas, ignoring them both. Ian shook his head and walked close to Isabella.

  “Leave it with me,” he whispered. “Just wait over there.”

  He pointed to the other side of the studio and Isabella walked unsteadily across. She felt wrung out, drained as if she’d just had an amazing orgasm. Touching her face she could still feel the heat from her blush. She looked around while trying to get herself under control. There were lots of canvases stacked haphazardly as well as a few more hung on the long wall. She gave them a casual glance then did a double take.

  She knew this work.

  It had always sung to her whenever she’d seen it. But the artist’s signature was Archangel. Surely this rude but very attractive man wasn’t the amazingly talented Archangel? She looked back across the studio to where the two men were speaking. Ian shook his head again and turned to walk back to her. Gabriel shouted over his shoulder.

  “The answer’s still no, Ian. You now know my terms.”

  She had a sinking feeling in her stomach. She just knew what he was going to say.

  “I’m sorry, Isabella. He’s going to play dirty. You want to see the bull, you have to pose.”

  Instantly all feelings of being sexually aroused, orgasms or thoughts of hidden desires disappeared. Instead she was damn angrily aroused.

  “What the fuck!” she shouted and glared across the room to where Gabriel seemed oblivious to her fury. Storming across the floor, Isabella stood in front of him, hands on hips.

  “How dare you try blackmailing me!”

  He looked down at her and calmly explained, “I want you naked and you want the bull. No problem.”

  “No problem?” She jabbed a finger into his chest, unintentionally noticing how hard and firm it felt. “Mister, there is one big problem—you.”

  “No pose, no bull. Simple.”

  She glowered at the man in front of her and stepped closer to him to poke him again. She felt her hands curl. She wanted to scratch his perfect face. He caught her hand as she raised it and held it captive. She could feel the strength of him through his fingers. She could also feel him rubbing it with the pad of his thumb. Isabella felt herself slide back to being sexually excited. Between his fingers and the look he gave her she knew she was lost. She tried to ignore the fact that her pulse was beating rapidly, and her panties?

  Well, her panties were now soaked. Desperately she grabbed her anger and tried to ignore her arousal as she glowered up into his face.

  “You know what?” Pulling her fingers roughly from his grasp, she threw one hand in the air vigorously as she shouted, “You can shove your bull where the sun doesn’t shine! I hope he’s fucking huge and rips your arse in half! I’ll find another.”

  With that she turned, intending to walk away gracefully but instead he grabbed her arm. He manhandled her roughly but she got a real thrill at his touch as he pulled her close. Isabella tried to keep a neutral look on her face as her heart raced. Being this close to him, smelling him, feeling his hand on her arm was sending her excitement sky-high. She hoped the signs weren’t obvious to him like they were to her. Then she made the mistake of looking at his face. Laughter glinted in his eyes as that sexy mouth grinned down at her.

  “I can’t see why posing naked for me is a problem. It isn’t as if you’ve never done it. I recognise both the face and the figure. So in my opinion you can easily pose for me and I’ll let you have access to my bull.” He actually winked then added, “Oh, and yes, he is huge and very handsome.”

  “In your opinion? Your opinion’s twisted,” Isabella growled.

  Somehow she managed to pull herself free and began walking away again. She stopped when she thought she was a few feet from him, turned and in the best outraged voice she could muster said, “You obnoxious man! That’s blackmail and you know it.”

  Calmly he grinned and replied, “Yes, it is.”

  There was no doubt Gabriel was definitely laughing at her but oddly it did nothing to help smother her feelings of intense excitement. The man was so in control, so aggressive, so dominant. Somehow he knew every button to press to elicit a response from her. She had to get out of there quickly before those hidden desires overwhelmed her.

  “I don’t respond well to threats so drop dead! I’ll find my own bull,” she yelled.

  “Good luck with that!” he shouted across the room as she walked away with as much dignity as she could muster, given the fact that this man affected her so deeply. She reached the door when Gabriel called laughingly out to Ian.

  “Ian! Give Miss Coburn my number. She’ll need it when she changes her mind.”

  “Of all the…! I won’t be changing my mind, Mister…Mister whoever you are,” she screamed at him across the room. He seemed almost convulsing with laughter.

  “You will. I’ll have you naked in front of me very soon.”

  Somehow Isabella understood he knew exactly how she was feeling and she was sure he didn’t just mean her being naked and posing. With as much poise as she could gather Isabella quickly walked through the door but then she almost ran down the hallway to the outside. Going past the flowering shrub garden she raced to the seat under the large tree. Shaking with anger, disappointment, and sexual tension, she sank onto the seat. Tears threatened to spill but she felt determined not to give in to them. On top of that his last words had sent more images to her head of her naked before him. They had absolutely nothing to do with posing. She sat there trying to get herself under control. Taking long deep breaths, she tried to calm her racing pulse. A few minutes later Ian rushed out. He looked down at her, looking embarrassed.

  “I’m so sorry, Isabella. I really am. I’ve no idea what’s got into him, he’s normally arrogant but usually not this rude.”

  “It isn’t your fault.”

  She got to her feet and began walking back to the car, Ian keeping pace alongside her. He opened her door when they reached it then shook hands with her.

  “Good-bye, Isabella. Thanks, but I…guess there’s nothing to say.”

  “Good-bye, Ian.” She slid behind the wheel and looked up at him, shaking her head slowly. “You know what’s really ironic? I’d made up my mind to do the gig on the way here.”

  “What?” Ian spluttered.

  “I know. But there’s no way I’d ever work with him now.”

  Ian groaned and rubbed his forehead.

  “Shit.”

  “Sorry.” She grinned up at him, feeling better as she started the car. This would be her revenge. “You can tell him that. Oh, and make sure you tell him he’s got no chance now. That will make him think twice about trying to blackmail me.”

  With that she backed out and drove back onto the main road. All the way home she went over everything in her mind. The one thing that kept flashing through her thoughts was being naked in front of him. Never in her entire career of modelling had she ever felt the strong sexual attraction to an artist as she did to this Gabriel Milford. In fact, she’d never felt this way about any man. But how dare he try to blackmail her? Well, she’d show him. Somewhere there had to be another Miura bull and if there wasn’t, well, she’d just use another horned bull.

  “Let’s face it,” she said sarcastically, “bulls are bulls.”

  When Isabella arrived back at the house she spent some time on the computer. Unfortunately she discovered that bulls are not
bulls. Fighting bulls are bred not to be heavy like meat breeds but to be well-muscled with a well-defined morillo—the muscles over the neck and shoulder. This morillo is what gives the bull strength with its horns and gives it the very distinctive profile of a fighting bull. Isabella leaned back in her chair.

  “Okay, so maybe an ordinary meat-type bull with horns isn’t going to give me the same shape and muscle definition as a bull used for bullfighting. Damn.”

  The phone rang. It was Erica.

  “Issie. I just heard what happened.”

  “How did you find out?” she asked indignantly.

  “Ian rang me. Said you were rather upset and thought I should check up on you.”

  “Oh.” Mollified, she added, “Yeah, well, it was a fiasco.”

  “Issie, maybe you should ring him back. Ian said you were considering doing the gig so why not agree? You’ll get all the time you need with the bull in return.”

  “You’ve got to be joking, Erica! The man is obnoxious.” Indignantly she said, “Do you know how he greeted me? He told me to strip!”

  Erica burst into hysterical laughter and when she finally got herself under control she reasoned, “Well, does it really matter? I mean, you’d both get what you want.”

  “I’d rather spend a year in hell than pose for him.”

  “Gee, Issie, that seems a bit strong.” She laughed more. “Okay, I get that he was rude and I get that he tried to blackmail you into posing, but…well, I mean as long as you get the bull, isn’t that all that matters?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s rude, horrible, and arrogant.”

  “Since when has that been a problem? Most artists you’ve ever worked with are like that.”

  “Well, I’m older now and can afford to be picky.”

  “Hang on.” Erica’s voice changed as she demanded, “What’s really going on?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Isabella Coburn, don’t tell lies. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing at all.”

  “Shit! He’s cute and you found yourself attracted.”