The Man in the Painting Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors: Flora Ferrari Advertisement

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I can feel my irritation increase by the second as I get closer to the door.

I swore never to come back here.

What the hell am I doing?

In frustration, I stop at the door and run my hand through my hair.

I can feel a dull yet consistent thud.

A heart attack? Isn’t that a better option than the memories this place evokes?

I’d learned a long time to stop feeling...to lock my past demons in a place where they could never hurt me anymore. But coming back here may push against my ability to keep my sanity.

And admitting that to myself is the source of my growing frustration. I need to get out of here as soon as possible.

That being at first light tomorrow.

I push open the door to the bedroom, simultaneously flipping the light switch.

I stop in my tracks.

A lot doesn’t surprise me, but all thoughts fly away from my head at the red-headed, curvy beauty curled up in my bed like a furry cat.

Her long ginger curls are spread across the pillow, a beautiful contrast to the stark white she’s lying on.

I slowly walk closer to the bed, my brows knitted in a small frown.

Could she be a guest? Last I checked, this house is exclusively mine. Despite everything, Brenda wouldn’t put a guest in this house, would she?

Maybe she’s finally given up on you, a voice snarls at me in a mocking tone.

That wouldn’t be such a big surprise, except a painting of me is boldly displayed in the living room.

There’s got to be an explanation for this.

I should wake this woman up and demand an explanation, but I can’t seem to bring myself to disturb her sleep.

She looks exhausted.

It’s almost like she’s having a fitful sleep.

I can’t seem to move from the spot I’m standing like I’m to stay in place, held by a force greater than me.

I can’t seem to take my eyes off her.

She looks like an innocent angel with the body of a temptress.

I start to feel a familiar tingling sensation in my fingertips. I glance down at my hands in surprise and back up, still looking at her.

I haven’t felt this sensation in a long time. The urge to wrap my hand around a brush.

I snort quietly in surprise. What the hell is this?

Then, it hits me. The artist and the man in me want every inch of her.

I’ve never felt such instantaneous attraction for anything or anyone. My hands itch to run along the perfect lines of her pale, sleeping face. Everything in me suddenly wants to possess her.

The urge is so strong that I have to lower myself onto the chair by the bedside.

I lean in until my face is just mere inches from hers.

My eye roams her gorgeous round face, taking in all the details in a slow sweep. It doesn’t matter if I never see her face again after tonight. It’s committed to my memory for life.

I try to determine the confusing emotions clashing in my chest all at once, excitement, desire, and...lust.

Pure and raw lust.

Her lips reclaim my attention, they look so enticing, lush, and soft.

If I had the chance, I’d spend days just painting her full heart-shaped lips, every little detail, including the little lines, that little petulant pout, and even that slight distressed curve of distress.

She’s beautiful...and young.

She looks to be in her early twenties.

Too young to be coveted by a jaded older man like me, but I can’t seem to rip my gaze off her.

As much as I’m curious to know how this gorgeous stranger got into my bed, I’m content to watch her sleep.

All night.

CHAPTER FIVE

Melody

I open my eyes slowly.

Strangely, I had a good night’s sleep even after the events of last night.

Maybe it’s the luxurious bed I slept in...or the lingering fragments of the obscure dream of the handsome man in the painting.

I stared at his picture for the longest time last night before I finally dragged myself into the nearest bed.

His image had helped me calm down, leaving me with only the feeling of dejected exhaustion.

I try to recall the dream, but the memories slip from my head. It doesn’t make sense, but it left a good feeling.

I turn on my side with a small content sigh.

My eyes clash with familiar blue-green depths, the same turquoise eyes I just dreamt of.

I shake my head slightly, wondering if I’m not fully awake yet.

I close my eyes and open them again to his piercing gaze.

I gasp loudly and sit up sharply, pulling the bedcover over my chest. I lean forward, trying to confirm the reliability of my vision.

There he is, lounging lazily in a chair directly in front of me, legs crossed leisurely. His handsome face zooms in and out of my vision, a thousand and one thoughts running through my hazy mind.

“Oh my God!” I gasp softly. “Is that... Are you...You’re real?’

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