His By Design (15 page)

He had hoped for more information, but he’d make do with what he got. Back in his car, he dialed the P.I. he kept on retainer.

Chapter 14

It was Christmas Eve, and although they had mutually agreed not to exchange gifts, Zoe wanted to do something to make the holiday special. So much of what she had accomplished was due to Jeff’s skills and hard work that she needed to show him how much she appreciated everything he’d done the past few months.

So after they’d put a small Christmas tree in the corner of her studio and decorated it with tiny white lights—the only thing she could afford—she gave him her Christmas card. Inside was a hand-lettered coupon for one modeling session, in the nude. He’d asked her many times to pose for him and she’d always declined, actually shy about standing naked in front of him with no sexual distractions to keep him from really looking at her body. She was sure he’d notice that one of her breasts was a bit smaller than the other one, though neither were particularly generous. He’d find her hips were much too wide compared to her waist, and that her legs were, well, short. Her figure did not have the proportions artists’ models were known for.

Jeff held the piece of paper between thumb and forefinger, waving it gently back and forth as he studied her with heavy-lidded eyes gone sapphire in the firelight. “I can redeem this any time?”

Zoe nodded, her mouth dry as his gaze swept down her torso then back to her face. “As long as the gallery isn’t open,” she murmured.
I’ve been naked in bed with the man a dozen times. So why is the thought of posing nude for him getting me so hot and bothered?
She swallowed with difficulty, aware that her nipples had budded against her flannel shirt. Since she’d worn no bra, the rasp of the fabric against them sent spirals of heat snaking between her legs.

She could neither move nor look away from the intensity of his gaze. His hair needed a trim, but the curling, disheveled mass only added to the sensuality pouring off him in waves. It filled the space between them, lapping at her like a warm incoming tide, rising higher with each indrawn breath. She feared her legs might soon go liquid from the heat.

“I don’t have my sketch pad and pencils with me, so I won’t cash it in now. But perhaps you’d gift me with a brief . . . preview?”

She nodded again, still struggling with speech, and stood motionless as he stepped up to her and began slowly to undo the buttons on her shirt. The scent of the tree blended with his own musk and set images of a forest populated with fauns and satyrs swirling in her head. She tilted her chin up and parted her lips, sipping at the air between them as though it was nectar. He spread her shirt and slid it off her shoulders, then quickly twisted the material to pin her arms behind her. She gasped at the sudden move, eyes wide, nostrils flaring, but before she could make a sound he pressed a finger across her lips.

“Shh, sweetling. A gift as precious as this should be savored.”

He took his time. His gaze lingered on her breasts, now thrust out, their ruddy areolas crowned with taut, dark nipples. He blew a warm breath across them and a smile quirked the edges of his mouth as he watched them tighten even more in response. Finally his gaze followed the soft skin curving down to her waist. Still keeping her arms imprisoned, he undid the button of her jeans and slowly slid the zipper down.

Zoe finally found her voice. “You know the rule about models. You may look all you like, but no touching is allowed.” She’d watched his pupils dilate as he examined her and when he pursed his lips to blow on her breasts again, the muscles of her vagina spasmed. His quick glance up with one brow quirked made her wonder if he could sense even that hidden a reaction. She drew in a shaky breath. Crackles of electricity chased over her skin. Her nipples had tightened so much they ached. If he didn’t kiss her soon she’d have to beg for his mouth.

He released the bunched material and her shirt fluttered to the floor. “I believe I’ve had about all the preview I can handle.”

He pulled her up on her toes and covered her mouth with his, his tongue fencing with hers. She moaned and twined her arms around his neck, burying her fingers in the mass of tousled curls at his nape.

He leaned back to study her face. “Are you ready for me, sweet cheeks?” At her breathless nod, he slipped one finger into her panties and found the nubbin he sought wet and waiting for him. He teased the tiny bud until she panted ragged breaths and her fingers clutched at his shoulders, then he slid his finger into her.

She came instantly, her orgasm so violent she barely held on to consciousness. She clung to him, and felt his hard shaft straining against his pants. Zoe rubbed herself against him and sucked his tongue into her mouth, gratified to hear the wordless groan of need she wrung from him. “Bedroom . . .”

He lifted her and strode to the bed, dropped her on it, then reached for a condom in the drawer next to it. She busied herself with his zipper and was soon rewarded with the velvet tip of his erection brushing her lips. She obliged by sucking him deep into a mouth no longer dry.

“Babe. Stop.” He pushed her away so that he could cover himself, then he flipped her onto her stomach, tugged her jeans down, and buried himself in her heat. With one hand cradling her breast and the other circling her sweet spot, he needed but a few strokes to bring them both to orgasm. He collapsed on top of her, crushing her into the mattress.

Zoe reveled in the sensation generated by the final pulsations of his cock as he emptied himself, milking him with her muscles to express every last drop. No other man she had had sex with—not that there had been many, admittedly—had ever provoked such soul-shattering orgasms from her. Nor the desire to repeat them again so soon. This time, however, she managed to leash her lust in favor of more oxygen. She bucked her butt against him to gain a bit of breathing room and Jeff obligingly rolled off her.

Zoe snuggled against his side and stroked the thin line of hair arrowing down his six-pack toward his now-relaxed shaft. “Now you understand why I knew your request for me to pose in the nude would never work.”

“It’s hardly fair to count today.” Jeff dropped a kiss on the top of her head and toyed with the brown strands of silken hair that slid over her shoulders and partially covered his chest. “Christmas Eve has always seemed more magical to me than Christmas day. I guess it was the anticipation. Christmas morning was great, opening presents and all, but then it was over. The wonder, the excitement of the weeks before, all gone. Christmas Eve is the best part of the holiday.”

“Then I’m even happier you’re spending it here with me.” Zoe planted kisses along his jawline.

“And you”—he dropped another kiss on her head—“are the best part of this Christmas Eve.”

“What time will your dad be arriving tomorrow?”

“Ah . . . I’m not sure, really. I doubt if it will be very early, but definitely before noon. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. You’re not the only one who can give presents.”

“No. We agreed, remember? I hope you didn’t go buy something, Jeff.” Just because he was flush with cash after Thanksgiving weekend, he probably thought she was in good shape financially too.

The problem was her generosity. She’d reduced the gallery’s commission to encourage more artists but the downside of that was less money for her business. Since Thanksgiving weekend, she hadn’t sold one darn thing. Oh, she’d had browsers, lots of browsers. But they were mostly locals who were curious about the new gallery but not interested in spending their money on her merchandise.

After the holiday, Amanda was due to come by and go over her books. November’s sales would improve her bottom line for the fourth quarter, but they would increase her tax burden for the final quarter as well. Zoe shivered and rubbed her arms to banish the chill bumps that had taken up residence.

“Are you cold, babe?”

“No, no, I’m fine. But let’s go out by the fireplace and the tree, okay? I’ll open that bottle of champagne you brought and we can have a Christmas toast.”

“Excellent idea. Especially when I tell you about my gift. Now, don’t look so upset, sweet cheeks. You gave me a gift, so now it’s my turn. And my present isn’t a thing, exactly. It’s a . . . Nope, I’m not telling until we have that champagne in hand. C’mon.”

Zoe grabbed her robe and tossed Jeff a pair of his sweats. Since he occasionally spent the night, she’d given him a drawer in which to keep a change of clothes. She went to the fridge, took out the bottle, and began to untwist the wire around the cork. Suddenly the anticipation of Christmas Eve wasn’t working for her.

“Here, let me do that, babe.” Jeff reached around from behind her, keeping her between him and the kitchen counter as he deftly removed the wire, then popped the cork. As he filled two glasses, he leaned down and planted a kiss on her ear. “You take the glasses and I’ll put on some music.”

Finally snuggled together on the couch, Jeff set his glass down and hummed along as Johnny Mathis sang “We Need a Little Christmas.” Unable to stand the suspense any longer, Zoe elbowed him in the ribs. “Okay, Studley, spill. I know you’re just dragging this out to drive me crazy.”

“Is it working?” He grinned at her.

“Grrrrr . . .”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed. “Have you heard of Russell Manheim?”

“Russell Manheim, the artist?”

“Yes.”

“Of course I’ve heard of him. He’s very well-respected. His works were in high demand at the gallery in D.C.”

“Right. Well, you were hoping to get some famous artist to do an exclusive show for the grand opening of the Silvercreek Gallery, weren’t you?” Jeff shrugged and waved a hand. “So if you think he’s good enough, he’ll do it.”

“If I think he’s good enough?” she sputtered. “This is a tease, right? You’re pulling my leg?”

“No, babe. Not a joke. He’ll be here for your grand opening, if you want him.”

“Okay, I’ll play,” she said, expecting the punchline to this bad joke. “Yes, I would love to have him here for the opening. I’d be crazy to turn an offer like this down, but first you have to tell me how you managed this magic trick.” Still a skeptic, she crossed her arms and sat back.

Jeff cleared his throat. “As it happens, Rusty, Russell, is a friend of mine. We go back a long time and he, uh, kind of owes me, so I called him and asked. He said yes.” He shrugged. “No big deal.”

Zoe’s eyes went wide. “Well, it’s a big deal to me, Jeff. I still can’t believe . . . Wait a minute . . .” She narrowed her eyes. “This wouldn’t be the same Rusty from your high school, would it?”

“You know about Rusty? How . . . ?” He rolled his eyes. “Never mind. Dad told you about him, didn’t he?”

She nodded, still amazed that Rusty was the renowned Russell Manheim. She picked up her flute of champagne and handed Jeff’s to him. “What a wonderful Christmas this is turning out to be.” Her gaze grew serious. “The best part of all is sharing it with you. Merry Christmas, Jeff.” She clinked her glass against his.
I think I’m falling in love with you.

Christmas had been wonderful. Amanda invited Zoe, Jeff, and his da
d for an early dinner and treated them to a feast. The  English-themed dinner, which included a standing rib roast of beef, Yorkshire pudding, roasted potatoes, and trifle for dessert, brought rave reviews from everyone. The only thing that would have made it better was if her mom were still alive to share it all with her. Zoe caught Amanda looking wistful a few times and suspected her wish would be to have Danny there as well. The holidays always intensified the loss of a loved one, so she imagined Jeff and his dad secretly felt the same. Still, the warmth and camaraderie of the small group helped them all celebrate the joys of Christmas.

Zoe had expected to ring in the New Year with Jeff, but her hopes were dashed when he announced during dinner that he would need to spend a week or so in Baltimore helping his dad on a job. After all the help his dad had given her for free, she could hardly complain.

Today Amanda would go over her books. Zoe got queasy just thinking about it. She went to the thermostat and raised the temperature a few degrees. She’d tried to keep the electric bill down yet still have the gallery warm enough for browsers to be comfortable. The weather had turned bitter and the icy wind off the bay carried a damp chill that went right through her. Baltimore and Washington had snow over the weekend but the bay-side location of Blue Point Cove provided just enough warmth to change their precipitation to rain. She’d have been happier with snow. Thirty-seven degrees and rain felt much colder than the white fluffy stuff. She shrugged into the sweater she’d brought down from her apartment.

Hopefully the bad weather would keep Fredrick from her door. She’d worried all through the Christmas and New Year’s holidays that he would show up and cause trouble, especially if Jeff happened to be around. Until she paid off Barker’s loan, she had to keep the two men separated. Their animosity could escalate and Zoe feared that if the two came to blows, Fredrick would use Jeff’s assault as a reason to demand early repayment of his loan. Once she had repaid Fredrick’s loan and he’d signed the papers giving her sole ownership of the gallery Jeff could punch his lights out. The sleazebag deserved some payback for his actions on Black Friday.

She rubbed her arms again. Her office hadn’t gotten any warmer. She went to the thermostat and pushed the lever up to eighty. The heck with the electric bill. Her hands were like ice.

The tinkle of the bell on the front door snapped Zoe out of the doldrums. She hurried to the front of the gallery, pasting a friendly smile on her face. When she saw Amanda, her shoulders slumped, and the smile disappeared. “Hi, Mandy. You got here sooner than I expected. Come on back to the office and have a cup of coffee before we get down to my financial situation.”

“Thanks. The temperature hit a new low last night and I haven’t been able to get warm all morning.” She unwound her scarf and slipped off her pea-coat, then frowned. “I know you’re trying to save money, Zoe, but you need to keep the gallery warmer than this. Customers won’t stick around long enough to buy anything if they’re afraid of getting frostbite.”

“I gave up worrying about the electric bill. In fact, I’ve upped the thermostat twice this morning already but it doesn’t seem to have made any difference.” She looked at the readout. Sixty degrees! No wonder she was cold. She smacked the side of the thermostat. “Come on, you piece of . . . I want heat and I want it now!”