11

AUDREY
We first strolled the landscape paintings. I have always had huge respect for the arts. When my father was still rational, he always hung paintings on our walls. One of my favorites was the pine tree in the winter land in our living room. I didn’t know if it was still there because Anton sold some of the portraits for his whims.
Then, we walked around the walls, which displayed hyper-realistic paintings, and one of the pictures got my attention. It was a half-naked woman floating in the air that flaunted her breasts and her nipples. Her face was beautiful. Her lips were as red as a rose and slightly opened, but then I noticed her eyes had tears. The painting had a dramatic shade of dark and green shadows, making the art more alluring and inviting.
I shut my eyes, imagining myself as if I was the woman. I was in the same position as her a few years ago in front of a man I barely knew. I was young, naïve, and so willing. My body was exposed, beckoning the man that haunted my dreams for eight years. His eyes were hungry and tempting, his skin warm… I lied there amenable to meeting his flesh…
I shook my thoughts immediately.
“Do you like it?” suddenly said another familiar deep voice next to me. I looked up to my side and found Gabriel. He was no longer with Maxine.
“Mr. Stark,” I said, almost out of breath. He shifted his eyes at me, and he held my gaze for a moment as if time had stopped. How worse could it get that the man who almost took my virginity looked like the man who could make my panties wet?
“Hey, man,” his brother greeted.
“When did you arrive?” asked Stark, his eyes now focused on the woman in the painting.
“Not long. Your assistant here was alone, so I asked her to accompany me,” he told his brother.
“I saw Rivera, and he said he’ll be back next month for the collaboration,” he informed.
“So, it’s final? He’s going to work for us?” Coulson tore his eyes from the painting and glanced at his brother.
“Yes, but I’m afraid we have to wait until next month. His wife is giving birth to their second son.”
“But he likes your vision, I see.” Coulson smiled. “Congratulations.”
Gabriel let out a half-smile. “By the way, Maya is also here with Clarisse. You don’t mind if you join them, right? I need to speak to my assistant regarding Rivera.”
“Oh, God.” Coulson rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “That woman is a ticking bomb. I guess I’ll leave you two for a moment. I’ll see them first, or we might see the end of the world.” He shifted to my side. “Audrey.” He kissed my cheek before he left.
I smiled a little. “What does he mean by the end of the world?”
“That girl with my sister—” Gabriel held my shoulder and showed me where Coulson was headed, and I found two beautiful ladies. However, his fingers on my bare shoulders sent electricity rushing down my arm. I shivered at our sudden skin contact, “—is Coulson’s ex-girlfriend.”
“Well, that’s bad.”
“And Maya’s best friend. Wherever she goes, there’s a disaster. If I were you, I’d stay away.” Gabriel set his eyes back on the portrait.
I snickered. “Why would I? She doesn’t even know me.”
“She will if you hang around Coulson.”
My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe he had just said that. “I’m not! He spoke to me first.”
“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he cut to my words, his tone stern.
“What?”
“This painting. Do you like it?”
I swallowed my throat dry and stared at it again. I still couldn’t help but see myself in her. Bare, fragile, hurt.
I didn’t like it. I hated it.
“No.”
“But you want it?”
My cheeks flared, and my skin was suddenly vulnerable. My breathing increased.
“And I know what this woman is offering. She’s bold, fresh, raw, youthful… what else?” I felt Gabriel’s breath on my neck. He was now standing behind me. My stomach stirred up from the building pleasure inside me. “Hungry for passion, warmth… sex.”
Oh, God! I moved away from him. I shut my eyes briefly, composing myself to its rational state. “Mr. Stark… I don’t think it’s appropriate—”
He caught my arm, and he smirked. “Relax, I’m just giving an opinion about the painting.”
I swallowed hard. “Well, I gave you mine. I don’t like it, no.”
“Really?” He shrugged, then crossed his arms on his chest. “So, how about you give something else?”
I slowly gazed up at him.
“I’d like a painting of you, Miss Hopkins.”
I choked. I didn’t know if I heard him right. “W-what did you say?”
“I like art very much.” His lips curved into a sexy half-smile. “I’ve collected a few in my home. It would be nice having one of yours on my walls.” Confidently, he tensed up and set his eyes back on the painting, slipping his hands into his pocket.
My face suddenly felt so warm, and so was my body. My palms were sweaty. His words took a while to sink in. If my hearing was right, he said he wanted me displayed on his wall.
“You want me to be a portrait’s subject? Why?” My throat felt dry.
His eyebrow shot up. “You are naïve if you think you are not beautiful, Miss Hopkins,” he said frankly.
I looked away from his beautiful face. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I should just rejoice because he also found me attractive. I wanted him to look at me that way, and now he was brazenly open about it—not to mention he was my boss and probably one of the sexiest men alive.
On the other hand, I was confused. Where was this going to lead? What would his brother or family say if they saw my face attached to his wall at home? Or what if a colleague visits his home—perhaps, Mr. Jameson? I could never look at their faces again.
“Mr. Stark, I don’t think my portrait would fit among your undoubtedly magnificent art at home.”
He chuckled, and it was pleasant and delicious. It traced down to my deepest core. “And what made you assume they are magnificent? Why don’t we discuss this matter somewhere else?”
“But that’s the problem. Before we could talk about this any further,” I tensed up. “I will decline.”
“I will pay you.”
I looked up at him. “What?”
He shrugged. “Do you think I’m asking for it for free? I’ll pay you a great deal. What do you say…” he cocked his head to the side, “about a million?”
The blood drained from my face. My mouth parted.
“One million, Audrey.”
“For a portrait?” My eyes grew even wider. He’s insane. “You can’t waste your money on a mere.”
“Actually, I can.” He smirked. “And it’s not just any portrait.”
No? What did he mean?