Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
I stepped inside and stared at the floor-to-ceiling window that had a perfect view of the entire city. So much natural sunlight flooded inside, along with the open skylight at the top. It was a painter’s dream.
There were three easels next to the window, all set up with different paint colors, brushes, and other tools. A large table was in the center of the room, storing all the extra supplies I needed.
Two large couches were centered around a coffee table in the corner, a place where I could sit when I wasn’t painting.
I stared at everything, completely dumbfounded by the sight in front of me.
He did all this for me?
Bones studied my face, watching every little reaction I gave. “I thought you could do your artwork in here. You said that natural light was the most important component to any picture. In here, you have plenty of it, especially since the sun rises in front of the window. Now that you want to do this full time, you need an office. You’ll have plenty of space, and when I’m not around, you can come here and use it whenever you want.”
I was still speechless, staring at this kind gift.
From Bones.
Was this really happening?
“I…I don’t know what to say.” Bones was harsh, cruel, and lethal. He still vowed that he wanted to kill me and get the revenge he deserved. He wasn’t kind to me most of the time, and he treated me like a slave rather than a person. But then he did something incredibly thoughtful and generous. It didn’t make any sense. “I really don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything at all.” He moved his hands to his pockets and admired the view outside the window.
I stared at his back, wondering if there was a heart inside that muscled mass after all. Maybe there was more light inside his soul than he let on. Maybe he wasn’t just a stone-cold killer but actually a conflicted man suffering from old wounds.
“I have to be honest and tell you this isn’t entirely selfless.” He turned around again, his black hoodie stretching over the muscles of his shoulders. Even when he stood in a room with vaulted ceilings, he still looked incredibly tall. His muscled mass made him appear large, no matter what he stood next to.
“It’s not?” I whispered.
“No.” He walked back toward me, his blue eyes returning to their cold look. “I want you to make something for me.”
“You want me to paint for you?” I couldn’t keep the surprise out of my tone. He seemed impressed by my work, but he wasn’t an art collector. The stuff he had in his home had been selected by Richard.
“Yes.”
“What do you want me to paint?” Maybe he wanted me to paint a portrait of his mother. He’d seen me draw lifelike versions of my family. It wasn’t as good as a photograph, but pretty close.
He came closer to me, standing so close I could feel his breath fall across my lips. His hands went to my arms, his fingertips gliding across my smooth skin. He moved his forehead to mine, his eyes on my lips. “You.”
11
Bones
I positioned her on my bed, her knees folded and her weight resting on her ankles. I had her in a lacy black bodysuit, the dark color going with her olive skin perfectly. I wasn’t an artist by any means, but I knew exactly what kind of picture I wanted. I grabbed the sheets and yanked them back then arranged them around her. I had her hold on to one piece, letting it cover some of her abdomen so the white sheet would contrast against her skin.
I grabbed the diamond necklace I bought and hooked it around her throat before I added the bracelet. I layered her lingerie and jewelry, adorning her like the queen she already was. Her makeup was done and her hair slightly curly the way I liked. Her lips were painted a deep red, and her eyes were smoky and mysterious.
I used the camera on my phone to get the shot, allowing light from the windows in the background to hit her face at the perfect angle. I captured the natural lines of her body, the way the thin material hugged the steep curve of her back. Her tits were pressed together, but nothing more than her cleavage was visible.
I got the shot—and it was perfect.
I didn’t even ask her to pose. I didn’t ask her to smile or not smile.
She was just a natural.
Sexy all the time.
I shoved the phone into my pocket then walked back toward the bed. I was still pissed she thought I brought her here to kill her. Under the circumstances, it wasn’t a crazy assumption to make, but she couldn’t have been further from the truth. But surprising my victims wasn’t the way I operated.