I always thought of myself as the sort of person who owned their actions. If I did wrong, I didn’t try to hide it. I accepted the consequences and tried to make better decisions.

Which was why I was feeling like shit for having taken things too far with Sine. And even worse for not being able to stop myself from thinking about her yesterday when my libido had gotten the better of me. When I’d gotten home, I had the shower so cold that I’d almost been shivering, but it hadn’t done a thing to diminish my throbbing erection. I’d known that only one thing could do that, and I hadn’t been able to hold back. It had been her face I’d seen as I wrapped my hand around my cock. Her voice I’d heard saying my name, heard moaning in pleasure.

And it had been her name I’d said when I’d reached my climax.

The guilt I’d felt when I was done hadn’t stopped me from dreaming about her. Or from thinking about her almost non-stop all morning when she was in the office. I had an all afternoon meeting with Jean to discuss my new line, so there’d be no modeling today, but as I worked on what I was going to tell Jean, Sine was in my head. Usually, when I had an idea, I saw around the model, but with this one, she was key.

Jean was waiting at our usual restaurant, already munching on her favorite appetizer. I barely sat down when our regular waiter brought over a bottle of Merlot. I wasn’t much for day drinking, but Jean and I always indulged in some wine with our business lunches. I was especially grateful for that today. I needed something to help me relax. My cock would’ve preferred a whole other course of action, but sex with Sine was off the table.

And my word choice, of course, made me think of spreading Sine out on the table, and I was glad that the way I sat kept anyone from seeing that just the thought of her was enough to make me hard.

“You look tired,” Jean observed. “I hope that’s a good thing. I’ve had two gallery owners call me, wanting to schedule a showing for Alix Wexler’s new line-up.”

“I have one,” I said and was pleased to see her relieved smile. “I tried a couple things and got inspired. I plan on talking to Sine tomorrow about signing the release papers.”

Jean’s eyes narrowed. “Sine? As in Sine McNiven? The nice Irish girl I hired to be the assistant you didn’t want?”

I took a drink of my wine and then swiped a stuffed mushroom from Jean’s plate. “You were right.”

“Did you choke on those words?” Jean asked with an amused smile. “They have to be hard to swallow.”

“Fine, fine.” I shook my head, laughing. “Enjoy your moment.” I slid a manila envelope across the table. “Then take a look at these.”

She opened the envelope after the waiter took our orders, taking her time to really look at each of the dozen photos I carefully selected. It was Jean’s usual practice. She needed to have an idea of what I wanted to do so she could sell it the best way.

“You had your assistant model for you.” She started through the pictures a second time, shaking her head. “Didn’t I tell you to behave yourself with her? She’s twenty-three years old, Alix. What were you thinking?”

I frowned. “I was thinking that Sine’s an adult who can make her own choices.”

Jean put the photos back into the envelope. “If she decides you pressured her into taking those, you could end up in serious legal trouble.”

“I made sure the lines were clear,” I said, feeling like a little boy defending himself. “And I’m taking care of the legalities.”

“Will the new line be as erotic as these?” Jean asked, her tone strangely disapproving.

She’d never asked that before, not like that. When Jean and I had first sat down more than a decade ago to discuss how our professional relationship was going to work, she told me that she’d never try to direct my art, that she would only market it as I created it.

“You’ve never had a problem with my subject matter in the past,” I said mildly. “Why the change?”

Jean leaned forward. “She’s not a model, Alix. She’s a good kid.”

“Is this where I’m supposed to promise that my intentions are pure and that I won’t corrupt her?” I ran my finger around the rim of my glass.

“Could you promise any of that honestly?” Jean countered.

I considered her question. Were my intentions for Sine pure? Was I going to corrupt her if I followed through on my series idea?

I knew there were two ways to answer those questions, and they all depended on whether or not I could maintain the professional boundaries that Sine and I had set in place.

The series I wanted to do was more sexualized than these pictures. They would delve deeper into the life I kept private, and I knew I would have to expose that part of myself to Sine if I wanted her to trust me enough to do the series. Doing that would make it difficult to keep seeing her in a platonic way. If she was another model, it wouldn’t have been a problem, but there was something about her...

I didn’t believe there was anything wrong with my sexual preferences. I was of the belief that anything was permissible as long as it occurred between consenting adults. So, introducing Sine to my world wouldn’t corrupt her, but I wasn’t certain Jean would agree. And I certainly couldn’t tell her that I knew Sine wasn’t a virgin because the ensuing conversation about how, exactly, I’d come to learn that particular little tidbit wouldn’t lead anywhere good.

“She inspired me,” I said finally. “I’ve been...adrift for months. You know it. You’ve seen what I’ve tried to work with, but as soon as I started taking Sine’s photos, it was like I could see everything.”

Jean’s eyebrows went up. “I’ve never heard you talk like this before.”

“Because I’ve never met anyone like her before.” I drained the last of my wine. “Sine is my muse. She’s my inspiration, Jean. I can’t explain it, but when I’m with her...”

I let my voice trail off before I said something I couldn’t take back.

The expression on Jean’s face, however, suggested that she didn’t need words to see that inspiration wasn’t all that Sine meant to me, no matter how much I was trying to deny it.