Three

LILAH

How the hell did I let this meeting get away from me?

I stand up too quickly to get the papers from the printer and I almost lose my balance. Unsteady on my feet, I grab a firm hold of the edge of my desk while the man seated in my guest chair smirks at me.

Damn those perfect teeth and those hypnotizing cobalt eyes.

My panties have been sticking to me since he walked into my office with that sexy swaggering gait. He’d dominated the room from the door and I knew immediately that I was in trouble.

“Are you okay? Do you need a hand?” he asks, moving as if he’s going to get up and offer me assistance.

God help me.

The worst part is that he knows he’s the cause of my distracted state and seems to be relishing in the fact.

“No!” I blurt out, holding up my hand to halt his actions. If he comes anywhere near me, I have no doubt that I’ll lose it completely.

That same smirk is resting on his lips but he remains seated.

“No, you’re not okay? Or no you don’t want me to help you?”

I hate how calm he is while I fall apart, succumbing to the lust I’d been trying to tamp down.

“Just stay right there,” I plead, swiftly making my exit from the room. My legs feel like jelly as I round the corner and finally escape his simmering gaze.

At the printer near the end of the hall, I take a few calming breaths and try to gather my scattered nerves.

Even after I’ve retrieved the stack of papers from the tray, I remain in the hall facing the wall. If any one of my coworkers were to walk by at this exact moment, they’d probably think I was crazy, staring at the wall and breathing all heavy.

But I can’t be bothered by their hypothetical opinions. I desperately need this reprieve before I have to face him again.

Andrew Knight is a problem.

A problem wrapped in beautifully tanned skin with tattoos running the length of his well-muscled arms. Veins ripple across his thick forearms. Looking at him, all I could think about back there was being pinned up against the wall while his arms rested on either side of my head, caging me in.

He is simply a masterpiece.

His features are strong and masculine but he also possesses an aristocratic air that lets me know that he’s never really had to want for anything in his life. If he thought of something he needed, it probably appeared out of thin air before he completed the thought.

Old money.

Going over his portfolio earlier had confirmed my suspicions. He’s a trust fund baby, an heir to the Knight clan that runs this damn town. Which explains why Louisa was practically gushing when she came into my office to tell me I had a walk-in appointment waiting in the lobby.

She barely excused herself before Andrew’s expansive shoulders were taking up the doorway and his looming presence introduced him long before he opened his mouth.

Despite his rugged bad-boy exterior, he’s richer than anyone has the right to be and now he wants my help managing it all.

No pressure.

When I took this position, I assumed my clients would be as gray and old as my grandparents. It totally slipped my mind that younger clientele might show up and turn my nerves to mush.

He must be used to women throwing themselves at his feet. It’s the only explanation for his brazen approach back there. But I’m not budging. I can’t afford any other complications in my life at the moment.

The man in my office is beyond hot. It feels like a sin to even look at him because of all the naughty thoughts that bombard my brain.

His handsome face is smooth, free from facial hair with a strong jawline. Those blue eyes are electric and perceptive as hell. It seems like they’re reading me like a book in spite of how well I’m trying to hold it together.

Having stalled long enough, I turn on my heel and head back to my office.

Andrew’s posture is relaxed when I enter, his long legs sprawled out in front of him. Somehow he still manages to look completely in control, the slouched position only adding to the air of confidence that surrounds him.

Dressed in all black, he has the appearance of someone dark and borderline dangerous. And I don’t doubt it for one second.

A short-sleeved black T-shirt is stretched across his chest and the rippling muscles of his arms. The sleeves stop in the middle of his biceps and the intricate tattoos on both arms disappear underneath. I can only imagine what the rest of the artwork looks like. His powerful legs are covered in distressed black denim and heavy black boots round out the look.

The heat of his smoldering gaze follows me until I finish rounding the desk. It takes everything I have not to topple over in front of him in these ridiculous sky-high heels.

“Here are the materials I promised.”

My voice is infused with extra cheer as I shuffle the papers against my desk before stuffing them into a folder with Castle’s discreet logo elegantly etched across the front in silver.

I strategically tuck one of my brand new business cards in the slot before extending the package to him.

After only staring at it for a few beats, Andrew reaches out to take it from me.

I await another one of his slick remarks, secretly hoping that it’s coming. I could use some fuel for my fantasies later.

But when he opens his mouth, the request that falls from his lips shocks me.

“I want to paint you, Lilah.”

Blinking, I try to process what he’s said.

Paint me?

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me,” he says, almost impatiently and something about his irritated countenance turns me on even more.

The way his heavy brows meet in the middle of his forehead while he frowns, never breaking eye contact, is mouthwatering.

Man, I need help. What the hell has gotten into me today?

But I must admit, I’m intrigued by his words.

“You’re an artist?” I can’t help the wonder that seeps into my voice.

An indecipherable expression dances across his face before he bites his bottom lip.

“Something like that,” he murmurs, and it’s the first time that smirk disappears completely.

I don’t know why I can’t leave this alone. I should be walking him out of the front door, but instead I settle into my seat and ask another question.

“And you want to paint me?”

Andrew nods.

“Like a portrait?” I ask, growing more intrigued by the second.

There’s no way I’m going to do this but the thought is gratifying. No one has ever wanted to paint me before. It seems like such an intimate exchange. I wonder if…

“No,” he says, firmly cutting into my thoughts.

“Then how?” I’m leaning forward in my chair now and I realize I’m right where he wants me.

Open and intrigued.

His lids fall over his hypnotizing eyes, until the blue depths are barely visible.

Damn, he looks good.

When he finally speaks, I’m waiting with baited breath.

“You would be the canvas, Lilah.”