Mismatch - By Nana Malone Page 0,42
seen your work. It’s dark and bold and sensual. But it’s the actual mechanics I’m struggling to understand.”
Eli sat back and shut his eyes. He’d seen Sam at work, and it was intense. He also knew how it affected every woman in the room. Even the women who pretended to be offended or shocked all got a flush in their cheeks and parted their lips. They thought he was hot. Jessica would think he was hot. Eli cleared his throat.
“I use a model as part of my canvas. I paint with her.”
Jessica expelled a shuddering breath. “Her body is canvas and brush. I’ve seen.”
Eli nodded. His lids fluttered open, and he turned his head to look at her. “Yes.”
A pink blush stained her cheeks, and he clamped his jaw shut to keep from cursing. She was thinking about him, Samson, pouring paint on a naked woman. Essentially making love to her with his hands and producing a piece of artwork with the paint. She was turned on. The air around them crackled like tiny sparklers had been lit.
This was how she would look at his brother in the next couple of weeks. If he kept lying to her, Samson would get this look. It wasn’t for him, Eli. There was nothing he could do to put this look on her face. “I’m obviously not having sex with the model or anything, but it’s about the illusion behind the silk screen.”
Her lips formed an O. Absentmindedly, she played with one of the skull rings on her fingers. “And we—uh, we should play up the mystique. The press will love it. Two of the art patrons I was talking to you about will literally fight over your work. I’m anticipating actual fists being thrown.” She cleared her throat. “Do you, uh, ever, you know, get to know the model?”
What the hell was she asking? “Sassy, spit it out.”
She sighed. “Well, it looks like you’re going down on the model.”
He blinked. Oh. He couldn’t help laughing. “I assure you, I’m not going down on the model.” He’d helped Samson with the act, and his brother assured him that he’d never actually been intimate with any of the models. In that regard, he was all about the work.
Her voice was high. “Good. That’s great. Let the patrons draw their own conclusions.”
“And you? How will you feel watching me work?”
Her startled blue gaze met his. Well shit. He’d already blown their little deal to not make things too serious. “Are you going to fight anyone over my work?”
Straight white teeth peeked out as she sucked in her bottom lip. “I’m likely to fight the model, but then every man in there would be watching us and not paying attention to your work. And that’s not what we want.”
He leaned into her. She met him half way. “Sam—” she started, then amended, “Eli, you hired me to do a job, and I’m going to do it to the best of my ability. And we are keeping this chemistry between us casual, but that does not mean I won’t be ready to cut a bitch if I see her hands all over you. Hell, I’m sure half the women there will be ready to kill the model out of pure jealousy.”
“Is that your way of saying you want me?”
“Yes, but you already knew that. The question is what am I’m supposed to do about that?”
Eli sat back. He’d said he would give her some room, and he would. “We have some time to figure it out. Why don’t you tell me why you hate Michael?”
Jessica pursed her lips. “Well, not much to tell yet. I have a PI looking into him.”
Ok. That was a surprise. “I take it Mia doesn’t know about the PI.”
“Are you kidding me? She’d flip out. Sometimes she can act like a hormonal teenager.”
Eli grinned. “You surprise me. I think I like this no-nonsense side of you. It’s hot.”
She shook her head and pale blonde hair swung over her shoulders. “You’ve met my mother. She has this way of only seeing what she wants in people. Most of the time it’s good, because she’ll give just about anybody a chance; sometimes a second chance. But can you see how that would also be bad?”
He quirked an eyebrow. “I would have thought you were all down for the free spirited, love everybody vibe too.”
She snorted. “Don’t let the tats and piercings fool you. I’m still my father’s daughter. I generally see people for who