The Muse (Interracial Mystery Romance) (Dark Art Mystery Series) (19 page)

“That’s the type of man you are, it seems. You like to take care of people. I think if
anybody
got hurt on your watch it would crush you.”

“That’s a fair assessment, but you’re on a higher level of priority when it comes to anybody else. If you get hurt, it would defeat me.”

She opened her mouth with a shocked expression. “Why?”

“We don’t know each other well at all, but damn if I long to get to know you in any way possible.”

She shook her head and began to say something, but I stopped her. “We can talk about more of that later, when things are less stressful. For now, let me know how you feel about continuing to model for Hex. If you need to leave, I’ll have my assistant take care of all of the details. I’ll just require one promise.”

“Oh, really? And what’s the promise?”

“Wherever you go, let me come and visit you there, as a good friend. An
amigo
.”

A few minutes passed before she said anything. Her face was a transparent screen of her emotions. I could spot them all. She liked that I planned on seeing her again. The pleased emotion was in the upturn of her full lips and the glittering amusement in her eyes. But there was fear too. I hated that. What did she fear, that I would break her heart or that she wasn’t ready for another relationship? Someone had torn her heart to pieces. That was the next thing I saw, he’d made her scared to try again and had her second-guessing every move when it came to dealing with the opposite sex.

“Just a friend?” she finally asked.

“Just my little, beautiful
amiga.
Of course. We have lots of time for our friendship to develop into anything else.”

“I’m not interested in anything else right now.”

But her face didn’t say that and neither did her body language. She leaned toward me probably without even knowing it, the tops of those breasts riding her chest as it rose and fell.

Her gaze had traveled across my arms and chest while we talked. And the few times when she figured I wasn’t looking, her gaze lingered toward where my length rested on one thigh, hoping he could feel the warm wetness of her one night in the very near future.

“I’m a very patient man.”

“Is that another thing you received from being a Cuban man?” she joked.

“No. That’s from assuming the role of mother hen to a crazy artist who uses his talent to shock people. You get patience when dealing with a spoiled man.”

“Where is your mother, by the way?”

My face went hard. My mood shifted to alarm. My shoulders tensed. I formed my hands into fists. I cursed myself when I realized that I did it, and that she noticed, too.

“I’m sorry.” She raised her eyebrows. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No. I just don’t like talking about my parents. She’s gone now, and so is my father.”

“Did you lose them when you were young?”

“My dad died when I was ten. He was in the navy, too. It was some freak fire on an

aircraft carrier that took him and several others.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“No problem. I’ve had years to get over it.” I tilted over and grabbed my W.H.L. By now melted ice cubes watered it down. I swallowed the whole thing in less than a minute. “Hex and I have different dads. We’re five years apart .”

“I did a little homework before applying for Hex’s model job and read that he was

twenty-eight, so you’re thirty-three?”

“Yes. You did good on your homework.” Unease ran through me. “What else did you

find out about us?”

“There really isn’t much on your family at all.”

Which was exactly how I liked it.

“So your father passed away, but is Hex’s still alive?”

The line of muscle in my jaw twitched. “My step-dad is also gone.”

She probably caught something in what I’d said because she leaned her head to the side and formed her lips into a straight line. “You didn’t like your step-dad?”

“He was an evil bastard. When I turned eighteen and graduated high school, I couldn’t wait to get out of his house. I would’ve done anything. I’d applied to every military service available, and I complied a huge notebook of alternatives from being a cattle-ranch hand to selling my body enough to save money and fly off somewhere.”

She covered her mouth to hide her chuckling. “I understand exactly how you feel. My father was a bastard too. He drank a lot and wasn’t exactly a nice guy when he did. Sometimes he hit me, but to be somewhat fair it wasn’t all the time.”

I wondered if he was alive and close enough to pay the abusive son of a bitch a visit.

“I dreamed about getting away too,” she admitted.

“How did you get free?”

“That series of Michael’s, the one where he painted me as several angels. That’s what got him and me out of our crappy little town.”

“And it’s why everyone calls you Archangel. I remember reading the article in Times magazine. Hex was in it, too.” I raised my hands in the air. “Two young wonders stirring up the art world, Michael the painter of angels and Hex the illustrator of death.”

“Oh God.” She hit her forehead. “I do remember that article. It’s how all of that

ridiculous feuding between them began. At least I think so. I know Michael was not happy to share the spotlight with Hex.”

“And neither was Hex to share it with Michael.”

She kicked off her shoes, and I couldn’t fight the urge to grab the foot closest to me, so I did. I lifted that tiny little foot, covered in silky stockings, and placed it in my lap. So full of W.H.L., she didn’t stop me. Instead, she laid back and closed her eyes as I ran my fingers along the bottom of her foot and tried my best to knead away the tension the horrid sight in the garden must have built all over her body.

“How did your mom and step-dad pass away?” she whispered.

I massaged my way to the top of one foot. A small whimper left her mouth. I made a

quick mental note to remember that spot as I continued my way up to her toes. “I would rather not discuss that. What I want to know is if I can have a nice date with you sometime in the future. Whether you’re here or somewhere else, I would like to take you out.”

“I’m not—”

“What if we make it a competition?”

“Competition?” She kept her eyes closed, but gave me a big smile.

“Yes. If I can stump you on a movie line, then I get to take you out.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Anything is possible.”

“How many movies have you seen this year?”

“I don’t know. Maybe ten or so.”

She laughed. “I can’t even count them all. I go to the Cannes film festival and even Sundance every year and any other one I have time for. If I can’t make it, I get the movies delivered to me. I hit up most movie premieres in the states. I watch at least a movie a night at home. During my free days I can’t even count the number I see. It would be unfair for you to compete with me.”

“If you’re so confident, then it shouldn’t be a big deal. If I stump you on a movie, then you give me a date.”

She shrugged. “Fine. I’ll even be nice about it and give you as many tries as you like. My only limit is that if it’s foreign then it has to have had English subtitles.”

I shook my head at her ego. Granted, it seemed like she had a right to be confident. “How long have you been watching movies like this?”

“My dad owned a video rental store, one of those nonexistent little mom and pop spots.

Those poor guys are gone now. There will probably be a model of one in a museum right next to the dinosaur bones soon. Either way, I would drop by my dad’s store after school, grab two new videotapes, and take them home. I watched them as I did my homework. Every now and then I snuck a third movie in, if dad was drunk enough.”

“Lift your other leg up.”

As she did, her dress slid down and revealed more than she would’ve been happy to. Her clean silk stockings extended over most of her leg and stopped at the center of her thighs, where a white garter belt held them up. My hands itched to touch it, but the gentleman in me grabbed the end of her dress and slipped it back down.

She opened her eyes and blushed. “Oh my god. Thanks.”

“No problem. Now back to our agreement. I stump you in as many tries as I can, and you give me a date.”

“Fine. Additionally, I want to let you know ahead of time, that you are still a smart person. Don’t let your failure in this competition make you feel defeated.”

I smirked. “You’re a naughty one.”

“I try.”

For two minutes, I scanned my mind of all the movies I’d ever watched, figuring the earlier ones were more likely to stump her than the new ones. “Okay. I’ve got it. ‘You’ve ate all of the M&M’s out of the cookies! Now what will we do?’”

“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say a line from a famous Christmas movie that is played over thirty times throughout the day every holiday season.” She flexed her toes. “That was
Dear Santa,
by the way.”

“Okay. Don’t rub it in.” I pinched the side of her foot.

She shrieked. “I would stay away from all holiday movies.”

“Fine.” I was glad she couldn’t see my frown. Holiday movies were the ones I actually remembered. I considered the few that my mom used to watch. “Okay. I got it. ‘There’s a chariot on the mountain top—’”

“‘With Angels sprinkled all about and my lover’s name on the tip of my tongue. Oh baby, I’m gonna find me one.’ That’s
The Villager’s Daughters
. I’m really good with musicals so I would stray from those, too.” She had the audacity to wink at me.

“Damn you. You are good,” I muttered.

“That’s pretty much the only thing I am good at it.”

“That can’t be true.”

“Well, I think it is for now, but no worries. That’s exactly what I’m trying to change about myself. After modeling for Hex, I plan on figuring out other things I like. I hope to have a huge magnificent list of all my pleasures.”

And I hope to be on that list, too.

Chapter 15

~Elle

I stumbled toward the stairs. The soft carpet pressed against my feet. Alvarez held my hand, probably so I wouldn’t fall face forward. In his other hand, he gripped my shoes. “You don’t have to walk me all the way to my room.” I pointed behind me. “I do have all of my security. I’m probably one of the most protected people on the property tonight besides Hex. As crazy as it seems, I’m starting to feel pretty safe.”

“That’s probably the second W.H.L. you begged me to make working wonders in your

brain. It makes you feel courageous.”

“So are you saying I’m not safe?”

We climbed the stairs. He’d attempted to carry me to my bedroom, but I refused. His massaging of my feet already stirred my senses.

“No. I just want to know the answer when you’ve had time to really think about it in the morning.”

“I promise. I’ll tell you.” My words came out in a slur. Everything seemed slower than normal around me, but besides that I felt somewhat able to not make of a fool of myself in front of Alvarez.

“I don’t want you here if you’re scared.”

“Okay.” I’d thought about leaving much earlier, when he talked on the phone with his assistant. So many different emotions had flashed over his face, and when he put his back to me and whispered to her, a little jealousy pinged in my gut. It seemed so intimate. I didn’t like it.

When he turned around and appeared more stressed than aroused, relief rushed through me.

Whatever they’d whispered about on the phone was not loving or intimate in the least. It had stressed him out. That fact triggered a protective instinct in me. I wanted to take care of him and wash all of that anxiety away.

The time we spent in his office didn’t help anything, either. It confused me. I was starting to like him more than I thought I would. He attracted me of course, that couldn’t be denied, but many men did. It could’ve been the power and the commanding control exuding from him. One of my books put in my head that I had daddy issues and picked men who oozed authority. If that was true, then Alvarez would’ve been high on my list. He reminded me of my dad, before my mom left and the drinking started. Dad had to control everything—always dipping his interests to everyone else’s, never truly having time for himself, too busy with solving Mom’s, mine, the store’s, and everybody’s problems. When Mom left and the video store lost so much business, he ended up being the one who lost all control. He was a mental tornado, spinning round and round and damaging everything in his path with his hatred for life.

“Do you really feel safe?” Alvarez asked me as we arrived at my level.

That question dripped with many more unstated thoughts. One was that he must’ve

assumed I was going to leave. I’d even said that I would if I feared for my life. That memory of Patricia, dead, rushed into my head. I shook it away and focused on better and calming thoughts, like the hard texture of Alvarez’s fingers as he held my hand.

“I feel safe for now.” I did have four guards watching my every move. That alone kept me calm. Plus, I planned on being around a large group of people all the time and not wandering around the castle grounds by myself. It seemed that both girls had been killed when no one was around and late at night where the cameras couldn’t see.

If I left, where in the hell would I go? Not to see Dad.

I knew Alvarez would give me a little money and send me on my way, if necessary, but the sad fact remained that I really didn’t have anywhere to go. And my goal wouldn’t happen. I longed to show Michael that all the things that he’d said about me weren’t true. I was going to prove him wrong.

“You’ve lost your light, Ellie. You’re not an inspiration to me or anyone else.” He didn’t even stop having sex with the girl as he spat those words at me. I’d caught him in his studio giving it to his new model. He didn’t even think to stop when I burst in or even not further insult me with his words. “See what you make me do, my sweet Ellie. You force me to go to others to get inspired and the whole time you’re enjoying my riches.”

“No.” I threw one of his failed mini sculptures at him. It missed his head and crashed to the floor. The girl shrieked. She’d been hiding herself the whole time. I couldn’t see her face, not that it even mattered. “You’re a drunk and a crappy painter who is finally realizing that the gossip in the art world is true, that you’re a talentless hack. You would’ve been nothing without me!”