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

  “No!” Shaking her head, she shrank away from him. “No,” she whispered frantically.

  “Yes, Isabella. You and I are meant to be together.”

  He grabbed her chin between his finger and thumb and once more assaulted her mouth with his lips then he let her go and stepped away. Isabella stared at him in horror. She felt mortified by her reactions, by the dark desires coursing through her. She jumped into the car, and rammed the key into the ignition. With shaking hands and tears streaming down her face she pulled out and drove unsteadily down the driveway. All the while, she could see Gabriel in the rear vision mirror standing, watching her.

  * * * *

  Isabella had absolutely no idea how she managed to get home safely. At one point she’d pulled over and tried to get her emotions under control long enough to drive safely when she’d realised she couldn’t actually remember driving. Once home she’d flung the back door open and raced inside, it slammed shut behind her. Sinking down the wall onto the floor, she burst into loud sobs.

  It had been as if every filthy dark desire had surfaced. As if he knew everything she’d kept hidden from herself for so long. Everything she had fought so long to supress, every desire she longed for but knew she mustn’t succumb to. She was still in a state of arousal but terrified. For years she ignored those voices and now they were clamouring for attention.

  She felt so ashamed, so dirty. All she wanted was for him to hurt her again, to force her to do those hidden things. How could she have said aloud that she wanted him to hit her?

  She became lost in her sobs and her sordid memories.

  Only once in her life had she told anyone about her secret wants. The man she thought she loved—Derek Fulton.

  Isabella had met Derek when she was a confident but very naïve nineteen year old. He was thirty-five, attractive and gave every appearance of being a successful businessman who had dealings in the art world. She’d been modelling for two years, her reputation steadily growing. Rather than be like some of the models she knew, Isabella had always been professional and warded off all advances made by the artists. She couldn’t imagine jumping from one bed to another. For her, love had to be there. The artists she worked with tended to live a rather bohemian lifestyle but Isabella always steered clear of any involvement, didn’t associate with anyone from the art community outside of posing. Anyway, Derek had singled her out.

  She met him at a gallery party. He’d made a beeline for her and swept her off her feet with his charm. What she didn’t know was the man was married, had children, and liked to collect young women. He liked to brag to his friends at how easy it was to seduce innocent girls. So he’d wooed her with charm and gifts and stupidly Isabella fell for it all.

  She’d lost her virginity at sixteen—a drunken fumble at a party with a pimply male virgin. That had been her only sexual experience and now she faced a skilful man who knew just how to get what he wanted. He played her like a harp and before long Isabella thought she was in love with him. She accepted his attention and after a few weeks of his pursuit she finally slept with him.

  Even when she discovered he was married, stupidly she thought he would leave his wife for her. For almost a month she was infatuated and blind to everything. Erica tried several times to warn her but she wouldn’t listen. Things seemed rosy. He lavished attention on her, gave her little gifts, and did everything to maintain his hold on her until she relented to him sexually. It was then that she discovered there was only one thing that was lacking—his gentlemanly boring sex didn’t seem to light any fires for Isabella and she rarely climaxed. She thought it was because she was so inexperienced and blamed herself.

  It all came to a head when he discovered a couple of other new young beauties and began chasing them while still with Isabella. When she questioned him he told her it was her own fault because she was so lousy in bed.

  Known for a fiery temper, Isabella saw red and told him it was his fault. She’d tried hard to ignore the fact of his marriage, pretended to accept their dull sex life but now he was trying to seduce others while still sleeping with her. She’d yelled at him, telling him she needed someone who could take charge in the bedroom, someone forceful, not a namby pamby weakling like he was. She could still remember him screaming at her.

  “So you want someone rough. Someone powerful?”

  He’d grabbed her by the shoulders, dragged her into his bedroom, and had thrown her onto the bed.

  “Maybe I should tie you to the bedposts? Maybe I should smack you about. How would you like me to do that? How would you like me to hit your arse hard?”

  Isabella had said “yes” because she thought he was serious and she’d gotten so aroused by his words. Instead he’d just stared at her in absolute shock. The look on his face was one of sheer disgust as he reeled backward away from her.

  “Fuck! You want that? Ah, no wonder the sex was lousy! You’re some fucking little deviant who can only get off when she gets raped. You’re sick, twisted!”

  He kept backing away, looked at her as if she were some kind of monster, and stopped in the doorway. Isabella had stood and taken a step toward him.

  His face had filled with horror as he screamed, “Get away from me, you sicko!”

  She’d burst into tears, terrified.

  “I never want to see you again. You need to see someone, you need professional help. You’re abnormal, that’s what you are. Nobody normal wants those things. You’re a sick fucking little freak!”

  Derek had left then a few minutes later had come back into the room. He’d stood in the doorway as if he was frightened to come any closer to her. She felt as if she had some disease he might catch.

  “How perverted can one person be? It’s abhorrent to want something so twisted, so sick. You’re just a fucking deranged monster!”

  He sounded so horrid, so appalled. His words boiled in her stomach and she almost wrenched. She’d realised at that moment just how sick she was.

  Isabella had run from the house with his shouts of horror ringing in her ears. She’d kept away from him after that but his words never dimmed. Never had she forgotten, never had she gotten over it. For years she’d tried to distance herself from every person in her life, his words kept echoing in her ears.

  She finally met Peter Watson when she was thirty. He was dull but she let him seduce her. Isabella knew deep in her mind that she didn’t love him. She knew she was using him as a safety net. For her he was an escape. She wouldn’t have to worry about men approaching her because she was married and she could hide away her aberrations. So after a whirlwind few weeks they’d married.

  She still had a boring sex life but she made sure she never spoke about those hidden dirty secrets. Instead she would just lie there, accepting his lack-lustre sex. Peter quickly found outside interests that Isabella turned a blind eye to. Of course the marriage never worked. It only lasted a few months and Isabella was alone once more.

  Once more she blamed herself, believing it was the stigma of wanting something deviant, knowing how twisted she really was inside. She knew that she was the reason her husband indulged in affair after affair.

  It was only when she was older that she accepted the truth about him. He was just a man who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He’d chase after anything in a skirt but at the time it had hurt her and reinforced her shame. He’d actually only married her for her money and there had never been any love on either side.

  But after those two experiences she’d locked herself away—too frightened to admit her desires to anyone, too ashamed knowing a man would consider her a perverted freak. She had wrapped herself tight behind walls of steel and was determined to never let any person get close enough to know the truth about her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept with a man —too many years ago.

  Now Gabriel had awakened every dark thought. She felt so dirty, so perverted and her shame overwhelmed her as she knelt sobbing endlessly against the hallway wall.

  Chapte
r Eight

  Gabriel stood watching Isabella’s car disappear out onto the main road. His mind was in turmoil. His head reeled with what had just happened. His crack about her being a bad girl and being punished had only been to annoy her but instead he’d seen her reaction. Seen the way her pupils had dilated, heard her gasp, and seen the bright red cheeks. She’d actually leaned toward him. Somehow he just knew the thought excited her and he’d been right.

  She hadn’t even realised that after the first smack he’d released her. She’d still lain across his knees squirming and the scent of her arousal became overwhelming. He would have to be blind not to see they’d both got excited. Okay, he’d ridden roughshod over her but she brought out every caveman instinct in him. She was his little wildcat that he had to catch and tame.

  He’d always been drawn to the dark side of lovemaking but it still didn’t answer what had happened. Instead of yelling at him or getting angrier, she’d run as if she’d done something shameful. The look of horror on her face when she left didn’t seem to be aimed at him. It seemed internal, as if she’d remembered something. There was something going on that Gabriel wasn’t privy to. He knew she was attracted to him. The way she’d reacted when he kissed her.

  Damn, this needs to be sorted out now.

  If they were going to work together, and he hoped they were, then the air had to be clear between them. He’d drive over and find out what the hell was going on. He intended to tell her she was free to see Ferdinand with no strings attached. He still hoped she’d agree to pose but if she said no he’d accept it. But even more importantly he needed to know why she couldn’t accept the very real attraction between them. He would have preferred her anger than her terror.

  Grabbing his keys, he drove as fast as legally possible, all the time the whole episode played in his mind. Yes, there was no denying she was turned on but why had she been so horrified at the same time? Heavens, it was no shame to like things a little edgier even though he’d acted like an abusive prick.

  Pulling into her drive, he parked his car at the side of the house near hers and banged on the back door.

  “Isabella, open the door! I know you’re there. Let me in.”

  There was no response. He walked to the studio but the door was locked.

  Going back to the back door he thumped it again and shouted, “Isabella, we have to talk. Let me in.”

  Still no response. He peered in through the side window alongside the door and could see a hallway and the feet of Isabella. Rattling the door, he tried the handle and was relieved to find she hadn’t locked it. He wrenched it open and rushed in. Cowered on the floor and keening softly, Isabella rocked back and forth, her arms tightly around her knees. Sinking alongside, he grabbed her and pulled her tight against his body.

  “Isabella, Issie. Don’t. It’s all right. I’m so sorry.”

  Gabriel felt so upset, so distressed that he had caused this. He ran his hand over her hair, trying to protect her from the obvious pain she was feeling. She seemed beyond help, wrapped so hard in her own misery. It was as if she didn’t even know he was there. Gabriel felt wretched. This was all his fault and there was no way he could deny it.

  He could only hold her tight as she howled. He murmured against her hair, cradling her then he felt her move to cling tightly to him. He let her cry herself out. When her sobs finally stopped and she just gasped for breath, he pulled her away slightly and put a finger under her chin.

  “Tell me, baby, don’t cry,” he pleaded with her for understanding.

  Her face filled with anguish as she looked at him without speaking. Gabriel would give anything to take back this terrible pain he’d caused her.

  “I’m so sorry, baby. I was so wrong but you…hell, you’re such a gorgeous beautiful woman and I can’t deny how much I want you. I should never have touched you. Forgive me, please, I’m so sorry.”

  Those beautiful tear-filled green eyes glittered like emeralds as she looked at him with such self-torment that he felt his heart melt.

  “Please, Issie. Talk to me. Yell at me. Tell me to go away, anything. Just talk to me,” he implored desperately.

  He wiped a stray tear that ran down her cheek, his heart breaking.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s not you, it’s me,” finally she managed to stammer.

  “Tell me, tell me, baby.”

  He caressed her head, rubbed the back of his hand against her cheek. She didn’t pull away.

  “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice breaking with her pain.

  Gabriel realised there was something more going on that he wasn’t privy to. It wasn’t just about what had happened. There was something more. He wouldn’t press her.

  “Do you want to forget all about today? We can start all over and put everything that’s happen since we met behind us. Can we pretend we’ve just met?” He searched her face. “Do you want that?”

  She ran a shaking hand across her eyes then nodded. He kept her within the circle of his arms until he heard her large sigh. She pushed herself away slightly.

  “Come on. Up you get.”

  He stood and held out his hands to her. She let him pull her up and stood mutely looking at him, her face pleading to him. She seemed to be asking him a question, asking for something to ease her pain but he had no idea what. He could only smile at her. If she wanted to tell him he figured she would.

  “It will be all right. Go wash your face.”

  She turned quickly, almost running down the hall. Gabriel looked around him. There was an open doorway to the right and it led to her kitchen. Rummaging through the cupboards, he found mugs then studied her coffee machine. It didn’t look all that different to his own so he crossed his fingers and pushed a button or two. Fortunately he chose right and in no time had made a mugful. After making a second Gabriel opened the pantry door to find sugar. He’d just come out with a container in his hand when Isabella walked hesitantly into the room.

  Determined to act as if nothing was amiss he said, “Not sure how you take your coffee.”

  “Black.” Her voice was self-conscious and soft as she added, “Please, two sugars.”

  He dropped a couple of spoonfuls into a mug, stirred it, and handed it across. He dropped three sugars into the other mug for himself. There were a couple of high seats alongside one of the counters so he sat down. Isabella still looked like a deer in headlights.

  “Come sit down.”

  Surprisingly she said in a rush, “If I pose for you, that’s it. Nothing else.”

  Gabriel nodded seriously and replied, “I think maybe we’d better forget about posing.”

  “No. No, I want to.”

  “I think it better that you don’t.”

  “Please, Gabriel, I have to.”

  Surprised at her choice of words, he could only nod.

  “Are you sure, Isabella? Because you honestly don’t have to. I will never force you to do anything again. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  He felt so awful just to know he’d done this to her. She wouldn’t look at Gabriel. Instead she just nodded.

  He said, “If that’s what you really want, I promise you that’s what will happen. If you’d rather just forget posing, that’s fine, too.”

  She looked up. Her eyes looked still watery and Gabriel thought it wouldn’t take much to make them spill over.

  “And you can sketch and photograph Ferdinand whenever you like whether I’m home or not.”

  Her face lit up as she smiled and whispered, “Thank you.”

  Gabriel got the feeling it wasn’t just the bull she was thanking him for. He really wanted to know what had happened but didn’t want her upset any more than she was. Instead he asked her about the horse statue.

  “I saw your horse on the way in the other day. Is that a Leigh Price?”

  She nodded. Gabriel figured he was on safe ground so he continued talking about the sculptor.

  “It’s stunning. I love hi
s work. Ian has a couple of his smaller pieces.” He noticed a little hidden grin and wondered why. “I bid on a lovely nude he did. It was to raise money for a kids’ cancer charity but I missed out, unfortunately. It was gorgeous.”

  “The woman with her arms raised in supplication to the sun above her head?”

  “Yes that’s the one. Loved it. I was hoping it was a limited edition and I could buy one but it was a one-off.”

  “You really liked it?” She sounded surprised.

  “I did, didn’t you?”

  She shrugged her shoulders, still with that same Mona Lisa smile. Gabriel finished his coffee and put the mug in the sink. He walked toward her with his hand out.

  “Are you absolutely sure you want to pose? You honestly don’t have to. Please, Isabella, don’t do this for me.”

  “I think I need this. I’ll pose for you.”

  “I’m truly sorry about what happened today. I promise to do nothing but paint you unless you ever want something more. We’ll be just an artist and his model. Deal?”

  He still held out his hand. A conflict of emotions played across her face but she did shake his hand finally.

  “Deal,” she whispered.

  “Thank you, Isabella.”

  “When do you want to start?”

  Tentatively he asked, “I don’t suppose you could come over tomorrow? I’d really love to get some sketches down on paper.”

  He watched her take an enormous breath then exhale before saying, “Yes. I can and I will. I’ll see you about nine? Is that all right?”

  “Nine. Okay.”

  He resisted the temptation to run his hand down her soft cheek with great effort. Instead he smiled warmly at her and walked from the room. He could feel her eyes watching him. When he reached his car he sat for a minute or two before driving out. Gabriel just wished he knew what had happened. Why had she ignored the attraction between them? More importantly, what the hell had frightened her so badly?