Mistress to the Tycoon (1 of 2 free samples)

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COPYRIGHT
Mistress to the Tycoon by Nicola Marsh. Copyright 2007 by Natalie Anderson.
All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted.

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MISTRESS TO THE TYCOON

Nicola Marsh

For my editor Maddie, who is fabulous to work with!


CHAPTER ONE

‘COME in and take off all your clothes.’

Ariel Wallace grimaced at how forward that sounded and tried another tack.

‘Make your way out the back. You’ll find pegs to hang all your clothes on.’

Uh-uh. Worse.

‘You’ve probably done this a thousand times before so head through that door, disrobe and let’s get started.’

No hope!

Shaking her head, Ariel covered her face with her hands, not surprised to feel heat scorching her cheeks and deriving little comfort from the familiar smell of turpentine on her paint-splotched skin.

She couldn’t do this.

Being an artist involved spontaneous bursts of creativity, fabulous blending of colours and frantic slashes of brushes, not inviting some guy she didn’t know to get his gear off so she could paint him.

Whopping big commission or not.

She’d find some other way to keep Colour by Dreams afloat. She had to. She’d promised Aunt Barb, the founder of this amazing gallery and the woman who had practically raised her, that her legacy would live on.

And she’d do anything to make that happen.

The soft tinkle of wind chimes signalled a visitor entering the gallery and Ariel stiffened, her hands dropping from her face as she braced for an awkward confrontation. She knew how much uni students needed money and giving some poor guy the brush-off, no pun intended, didn’t sit well with her.

If anyone knew about being poor, she did.

Which was exactly why she had to paint her first life portrait since art school. She had no choice.

‘Hello? Anyone here?’

‘Be there in a sec,’ she called out, casting a final longing look at the back door, wishing she could make a quick dash for it.

Instead, she smoothed her favourite ochre peasant skirt, retied the Paisley bandanna under her unruly curls and pasted an I’m-in-charge-and-not-in-the-mood-for-nonsense look before stepping through the beaded curtain that separated her work area from the gallery out front.

‘Miss Wallace? I’m Cooper—’

‘Hi, Cooper. My studio’s out the back so if you head out there, I’ll lock up in here and be with you shortly.’

The words tumbled out in a rush, a combination of nerves, embarrassment and shock. She’d expected a lean, young, scruffy guy to come slinking into the gallery looking half as embarrassed as she felt.

Instead, she struggled not to stare at Cooper. She had no interest in his surname; she didn’t want to get too personal considering she’d soon be seeing him in the buff.

Buff...

Naked...

In the raw...

She swallowed, unable to link those words with the guy standing in front of her. If she’d been mortified at painting some dishevelled, half-starved student without his clothes on, the thought of Cooper—all six-three, broad shoulders, long legs, killer smile, too-blue eyes and dark hair—sitting for her without a stitch on made her positively light-headed.

Though that could just be the oil-paint fumes.

‘I wasn’t sure you’d want to do this,’ he said, amusement lighting his eyes, making them sparkle in the muted lights and sending an unexpected bolt of awareness through her.

‘No choice.’

She stared, stunned by his easy confidence, his cool poise.

Wasn’t this guy the teensiest bit embarrassed about getting naked before a stranger?

Judging by his confident smile and casual stance, obviously not.

‘We always have a choice, Miss Wallace,’ he said, his deep voice resounding in the high-ceilinged room, as sexy as the rest of him.

Darn it, and that was with his clothes on!

‘Actually, I don’t have a choice. If I can’t capture you on canvas and sell the painting for the fortune I’ve been promised, I lose this place to some slime-ball developers who’ve been buying up the rest of this street.’

Confusion clouded his steady stare for a second before a tiny frown creased his brow and his smile vanished.

Great, she was scaring off prime model material before she’d even started.

Blowing a stray curl out of her eyes, she said, ‘Look, I’m sorry to dump all that on you. I tend to babble when I’m nervous and, to be honest, I haven’t done nudes in quite a while. Guess I’m a bit bashful.’

She averted her eyes and crossed the room, her beaded flip-flops slapping noisily against the polished Tasmanian oak boards, not wanting to see him staring at her as if she had two heads. Or, worse, laughing at her.

‘You think I’m here to model?’

Flicking the door switch to locked and flipping the sign to ‘closed’, she swung back to face him, wishing she didn’t need the money so desperately. Nothing was worth this awkward tenseness, even if he was the first guy to catch her attention in a long while.

‘Well, aren’t you?’

She flicked her gaze over him, starting at his almost-black hair worn a tad too long and curling at the collar of his navy polo shirt, over the snug way the shirt’s cotton moulded his impressive chest and downwards, where faded denim encased long, lean legs.

No doubt about it. He was perfect model material, would be incredible to paint if those muscles hinted at beneath his clothes were as impressive as she thought. But there was something about him... something off-putting, as if he didn’t belong here.

He paused, staring at her way too intently as if making up his mind about something.

Well, she would just have to make it up for him. She didn’t have all night, and as much as she didn’t want to do this, the sooner they made a start, the better.

‘Look, I know this is probably awkward for both of us. Why don’t I make us both a nice cup of honey and ginger tea? It’ll help us relax and you can get changed behind that screen over there. I’ll be back in a jiff.’

Ariel whirled around and headed into her studio, unable to fathom the stunned look in Cooper’s blue eyes. She expected to hear his footsteps following her and when he didn’t move, it suddenly hit her.

His confusion, his reticence: this had to be his first time doing this.

And she thought she was nervous!

Pausing in the doorway, she turned back to him, hoping to allay some of his discomfort.

‘Cooper, if it makes you feel any better, you can keep your underwear on for this sitting,’ she said, sending him her best smile, much cheerier now that she knew someone else in the room felt a lot more embarrassed about this whole fiasco than she did.

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