Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(47)

“I was totally beneath your notice,” he insisted.

“You’re lumping me in with other girls again,” she chided gently.

He cocked his head, studying her with a look of bewilderment. “You’re right,” he said, as disbelief gave way to wonder. “I think I sensed even then that you were nothing like the other girls.”

“And you were nothing like any of the jock-heads I hung out with.”

“No kidding.” His mouth twisted wryly.

“Hey.” She dipped her head to see into his eyes. “That was a compliment. I like the fact that you’re nothing like them. They talked about the girls they dated as if they were conquests. That’s why I didn’t go out with any of them. I decided I’d rather be one of the guys than a sex object to be won and then tossed aside when it was time to move on to the next victory.”

“God, Chloe,” he sighed as if she overwhelmed him. “I would never have treated you that way.”

“I think I believe you,” she said. The earnest way he looked at her made her want to let go of her distrust.

As she stood staring into his eyes, thunder rumbled in the distance. He leaned forward, hesitantly, as if wanting to kiss her, but fearing rejection. She closed the distance for him.

Relief washed through Luc at the first touch of Chloe’s lips against his. Slanting his head, he took the kiss deeper, starved for the taste of her. While the wind swirled around them, he pulled her closer, into the shelter of his arms. She went willingly, pressing against his chest. His heart raced with joy, realizing he hadn’t lost his chance with her.

Ending the kiss, he looked into her eyes, amazed to see her smiling up at him.

“So,” she said teasingly, “is this why you didn’t tell me right away?” She lifted the sketchpad. “You didn’t want me to see the drawing and figure out you had a crush on me in school?”

Panic speared through him as he remembered the sketchpad she held. And the other drawings in it. Thank God, she hadn’t turned any more pages.

“Uh, yeah, I guess, maybe.” Pulse racing, he tried to ease the pad out of her hand.

“Luc,” she laughed as she looked back at the drawing of her. “It’s okay. I understand how hard it can be to show your work to someone else, but you have nothing to worry about. You’re a wonderful artist.” She started to turn the page.

“No!” He slapped the pad closed between his hands.

Her eyes narrowed at the alarm in his voice. He could see her wariness creeping back. “Luc? What are you hiding in here?”

“Nothing!” he insisted too quickly. “Just some character sketches for Vortal.”

“If it’s nothing, then why don’t you want me to see?”

“I-I—” His mind went blank.

Suspicion flared in her eyes an instant before she jerked the pad out of his hands.

“Chloe, wait!” He tried to reach for it, but she turned her back, blocking him with the skill of a basketball player. “I can explain!”

“Explain what?” she asked, flipping through the sketches. “Oh, dear God!”

He cringed, knowing what she’d found. The images he’d drawn of her once he’d started scripting Vortal, when his artwork had morphed from straightforward realism to stylized gaming art. Those drawings showed Chloe wielding swords, spears, or a bow and arrow while wearing a variety of skimpy costumes. Some barely hid the nipples of her exaggerated boobs, bared an impossibly small waist, or fell just to the top of her mile-long legs.

“You put me in your game?” she shouted in accusation.

“No!” he insisted. “I never used your face in the version we released.”

“But you used my body.”

“That’s not your body.”

“It was in your mind.” The blatant sexuality of the images had her flipping pages in jerky moves.

“Chloe, stop!” He tried again to grab the sketchpad before she reached the worst one.

When she twisted away and gasped, he knew she’d found it. Shit! He should have torn it from the sketchpad that morning. Or years ago. Better yet, he never should have drawn the damned thing.

“What the hell is this!” She whirled to face him, holding the sketchpad open.

He covered his eyes in mortification. He didn’t have to look to see the image in his head, a drawing of Blade, a younger version of Blade, having sex with stylized Chloe. The drawing showed Blade as he lay on top of Chloe’s body, bracing his weight on his arm. He had his mouth against her neck. Her head was thrown back with her lips forming an O of orgasmic pleasure. Her legs were wrapped about his naked body, pulling him tighter between her thighs.

“You bastard!” Chloe growled, as thunder boomed overhead. He felt the sketchpad hit him in the chest, startling his eyes open. Fury blazed back at him. “This is a lot more than a ‘little crush, no big deal.’ You came here intentionally hoping you could bang the chick you used to fantasize about.”

“No!” He stiffened in shock at her conclusion. “It wasn’t like that.”

“What a great score for a former school geek, to bag one of the popular babes,” she accused, visibly shaking. The wind picked up, whipping her hair about her face. “You wanted to see if you could do it, now that you’re a rich stud with a hot car.”