Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
The beginning of our story is nothing like she sees it.
Chapter Fifteen
Faith
There are things in life that are inarguably perfect: Milk chocolate. Good ice cream. A perfect sunset. A cold night with a fireplace. And me with a paintbrush in my hand for the past few hours, while Nick sits a few feet away, working, with Beethoven lifting in the air. There is just something about that combination that inspires me. Nick manages to calm and center me, which is really incredible, considering he’s intense, demanding, controlling, and arrogant, while I am someone who is far more zen. But as I reach for the red paint to put the finishing touches on the mountaintop of my painting, I debate the reasons that might be, and an amazing list of answers comes to mind that I decide I might just talk over with Nick.
Satisfaction fills me as I stroke a brush through the red paint to complete my work in progress. In another fifteen minutes, I set my brush down. I’m done, and Nick is behind me almost immediately.
“Stunning, Faith,” he says, his hands on my hips, and I find myself leaning into him, his big, hard body like a shelter in a storm that he’s now helped me quiet. He really is a shelter, and there lies the core of why he calms me, why he works for me. He makes me feel like the rest of the world can’t touch me.
“I like it,” I say, inspecting my work. “But I’m not sure I’m going to use it for the show.”
He turns me to face him. “Why?”
“It doesn’t feel special. It’s safe. I have to be cautious everywhere else. I don’t want to do it on the canvas.”
“You don’t have to be cautious with me, Faith.”
I reach up and pull his hair from the tie. “I know.” I run my hands through his hair. “Because you’re…”
He arches a brow. “I’m what?”
“Tiger.”
“Tiger is for my enemies, remember. Not the woman I’m falling in love with.”
There is that word again: love. It’s terrifying and thrilling. “It’s okay to be Tiger, Nick,” I say. “That name is a part of you. I’ve met him.” My lips curve as I think of the many sexy times we’ve shared. “I’m okay with him coming out to play.”
He doesn’t smile. “Tiger’s not a nice guy, Faith. You remember that, right?”
I flatten my hand on his chest. “He’s tough. He’s hard. He’s cold. And I really like him best when he’s naked.”
He remains expressionless for two beats, then laughs. “Ah, Faith. Woman, what you do to me. Maybe you need to put a little Tiger on your canvas.”
My brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“You are nice, Faith, but you have a darker side. That part of you that can take on the Tiger side of me and hold your own. That’s the part of you that wanted out when you were in the club; it just wasn’t the right place or way for you to do so. The canvas is your place. Put whatever you found in that club on the canvas. We both know nothing about that will be safe.”
It’s as if a switch flips in my mind. I’ve been boxed by everyone’s expectations of me on and off the canvas. I twist around in Nick’s arms and walk to my canvas, and I start to pick it up and move it off the easel. Nick is quickly there to help. “Where do you want it?”
“Against the wall seems to be the best spot,” I say, already grabbing a blank canvas and setting it on the easel.
“I’ll order you extra stands for your completed works,” he says as I turn to my blank canvas, inspiration starting to form. “We don’t want your work to get damaged,” he adds as I reach for my brush. Nick intercepts, catching my fingers and walking me to him. “The food will be here any minute, sweetheart.” He glances at his watch. “And it’s almost ten. We both have early mornings.”
I blink. “We ordered food?” I ask, then shake away the cobwebs, giving a low laugh. “Oh right. We did.”
Nick laughs, that deep, rough, sexy sound I could really turn on and play like music, if it were possible. “We did.” He motions toward the doorway. “Let’s head to the bedroom and settle in so we can go to sleep after we eat.”
“Well, as much as I want to argue, my hands are cramped, and my stomach is growling.”
He unbuttons the cover-up I have over my clothes. “You can spend some time with Sara at Allure tomorrow and then come back here and paint.”
“Yes,” I agree, “but you know what? Let me just put a few strokes on the canvas. Just to get the inspiration started.”
“You’ve painted for eight hours, Faith.” He is suddenly lifting me, and I yelp as he scoops me up and over his shoulder.