Now That I've Found You (New York Sullivans #1)(14)

His words came out louder than he intended, and Oscar actually bared his teeth a little. As though his own dog felt he needed to protect Rosa from his owner.

Damn it, just because not picking up his paintbrush and painting Rosa while she stood in his living room was one of the hardest things Drake had ever done, that was no excuse for being an *.

But before he could apologize, she said, “If you won’t take my money, how can I possibly pay you back?”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do. Tell me what I can do, Drake. Tell me what you want.”

As a rule, Sullivans tended to be pretty stubborn. Especially about making sure they didn’t take advantage of anyone else. Rosa was clearly no shrinking violet either when it came to doing what she felt was the right thing.

“I want to paint you.”

The words were out before he could stop them. Before he could remind himself just how bad an idea it was for a Sullivan to paint a beautiful female muse—if his mother and father’s destructive history was anything to go by.

Drake’s only saving grace in his dearth of self-control was his utter certainty that she’d say no. Rosa was a reality TV star in hiding. Sitting for a painter would be the very last thing she’d want to do.

But she wasn’t shaking her head. Wasn’t looking at him as if he’d lost his mind. Instead, she was petting Oscar again, scrunching her fingers in the fur on top of his head while he gave the happiest dog moan Drake had ever thought to hear.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this,” she finally said, “but if you want to paint me, I’ll let you.”

Drake had never wanted anything so badly. Never. But at the same time, he couldn’t stand the thought of being just another person to carve his pound of flesh from her. “Having your car towed and fixed was no big deal. You don’t have to offer to be my muse as a trade. I couldn’t sleep at night if I thought I was forcing you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“That’s a first for me.”

Those five words were all it took for fury to rise up in him again. He’d never felt this close to violence, never wanted to hunt someone down as badly as he wanted to track down the guy who’d taken and sold those pictures of her and tear him to shreds. Not just that guy. Everyone who had hurt Rosa, who had made her this cynical, this afraid to trust. Family was supposed to be there for you, but she obviously hadn’t gone running to hers. She’d run in the opposite direction instead.

But before he could force himself to let her go, she said, “Maybe a trade for your help with the car and keeping my presence in town a secret isn’t the only reason I want to stay.” She turned back to his paintings, looked first at one, then the other. “Maybe it’s because the woman on your canvases isn’t the one on any of the magazine covers.”

He finally took the risk of moving closer to her, close enough that he could see her gnawing on her lower lip again as she tried to explain her motivations for offering to stay and let him paint her.

“People have been taking pictures of me for years. But they’ve always wanted me to look a certain way. It was fun at first to feel like I was putting on a show, playing a character. But then, somewhere along the way, that character became the one everyone thought was real.” She shook her head. “God, listen to me. I really should have put my tiny violin away before I said all that.”

“It can sit next to mine.” He’d just done plenty of his own complaining about losing his muse and inspiration, but since no one had taken and sold naked pictures of him without his knowledge, he figured he was the lucky one here.

Her soft laughter—so unexpected and beautiful—rocked through him. And not just as the guy who wanted to paint her.

No, right now it was the guy who wanted to kiss her who was standing front and center.

He hadn’t been able to keep from asking her to let him paint her, but the urge to kiss her was so strong he had to force himself to take a step back. And then another. She’d agreed to sit for him, not to sleep with him. And when her stomach growled, he felt like a total idiot. Why hadn’t he thought she might be hungry? He’d seen what she’d bought at the general store. It hadn’t had enough nutritional value to keep a fly alive.

“I’ve got a lasagna in the freezer. I can heat it up for us. And Mona from the general store saved me an apple pie.”

Her lips quirked up at the corner in a surprised little smile. “I am pretty hungry.”

“Then I’ll go put the lasagna in.”

“And I’ll get ready to pose.” She scrunched up her face. “Or not pose, if that’s what you want.”

He could still hardly believe she’d agreed to sit for him. Or that he was actually going to paint her when it went against every professional and personal vow he’d ever made.

“Are you sure about this?” Even as he said the words, he knew he was asking more than that.

“Honestly,” she said in a soft voice, “I’m not really sure about anything right now.” Oscar leaned even harder against her legs, and she wobbled while trying to stay upright. “Apart from how awesome your dog is. But I do know that I don’t want to leave your cabin. Not until I’ve had some real food. So if you want to paint me while I’m here...”