“Nope.” She shook her head. “We’ve been letting so much go and making so many assumptions. I want to know you, all of the little pieces and the big.”
“Very well.” He rose and held out his hand. Her immediate acceptance and bounce to her feet gratified him. “If you would come with me, beautiful one?”
A faint pink blush brightened her cheeks. “Hmm, I get all shivery when you talk like that.”
“Then I must make a point to do it far more regularly.” He kissed her knuckles and led her from the room. Vidal and Gencome followed at a discreet distance. Through the yacht, he escorted her, and then to an observation room kept locked. It was a private room, even the staff remained outside of it. If it needed to be cleaned, they could only enter with one of the select few guards in attendance.
Unlocking the door, he caught Meredith’s ripe curiosity and steeled himself for her reaction. “What you want to know is in here,” he told her and let her enter ahead of him. He nodded to Vidal and the men took up a position outside the door. Meredith paused in the center of the room and turned in a slow circle. He tried to gauge her reaction to the canvases scattered around the room, of which at least three were of her. Reminded, he glanced to the corner and was relieved—the nude was hidden behind another stack. Perhaps he’d save showing her that particular work for later.
“You paint…” she whispered, a note of awe in her voice. She walked over to one of the landscapes, a piece of a small farmhouse in Burgundy. He hadn’t yet managed to capture the boy on the footpath correctly, and the light bothered him. “Oh my God, Sebastian. They’re beautiful!”
Chapter 10
Meredith
An artist.Sebastian was an artist. It was like the interlocking, yet oh so vital, centerpiece she’d been missing of a puzzle. He painted everything—landscapes, people, and scenes from mythology. The emotional depth of the works took her breath away. He stood patiently while she walked from stack to stack and began to page through the canvases. The only tense moment came when she walked toward the corner. His shoulders stiffened and the look of the prince arrested his features, wiping away his expression.
“Did you not want me to look at those?” If it bothered him, she would stop. That he’d shown her at all, it was a gift.
“It’s—” He hesitated and touched a hand to her shoulder as he moved past her to the corner she’d been intent on exploring. “I want you to see, yet I’m nervous at the same time.”
Because he’d bared his soul to her? Who wouldn’t be? She kept the thought to herself, so full of wonder at how he’d kept so much talent locked away from everyone. “I can wait until you’re ready.”
He paused and glanced over his shoulder, a questioning look in his eyes. “I don’t want to keep anymore secrets between us.”
“Nor do I, but this…?” She twirled her finger in a circle and let her gaze drift over the beauty he’d created. “This isn’t a secret, Sebastian. This is your soul and you have a right to share only when you’re ready. Thank you for showing it to me now.” She pivoted slowly and mirrored her finger’s gesture, until she’d turned all the way around and faced him again. “This explains so much about you. All the places we’ve gone, why youseeso much more in those places and people...”
He dropped his chin and the stray lock of hair fell over his forehead. A small smile, one of near boyish pleasure, turned up the corners of his mouth. “You truly like them?”
“I love them. I can’t imagine how you’ve kept it from everyone. If I could do this, I’d want the whole world to see.” Then again…she looked from the art to Bastian. “But maybe that is why you don’t. Because if they saw it…”
He inclined his head and his smile inched toward sad. “Yes, they would seeme. This is my passion, what I love to do, and perhaps even whom I could have been if things turned out differently. But it is not who the second Andraste son must be, so I paint. I enjoy it, and now I can enjoy you seeing it.” He shifted aside some canvases to reveal a large one nearly six feet in height before pulling away the cover.
“Oh.” She felt her eyes go round. It was her, all of her, sprawled against the sheets with her hair splayed on the pillows. Her body flushed pink on the canvas and he’d included such detail, even depicting perspiration slipping down her chest. Meredith’s face went hot and she covered her mouth, then gaped at the painting again.
“I painted you from memory.” There was just enough of an arch tease in his voice to ease her embarrassment. “It is absolutely one of my favorites. I love how you look after an orgasm, so relaxed and complete.”
He sounded so damned smug, she started to giggle. “I think I’m rather glad you don’t share this talent with anyone.”
“This painting is not for anyone’s eyes but mine and now yours, hence the cover.”
Meredith couldn’t stop staring at it. It was pure eroticism, and it made her look so beautiful. “I am not anywhere near as pretty as that.”
“No, you are much more beautiful. I need to practice some more to truly capture you.” The sincerity in his eyes silenced her argument.
“How did you keep this a secret from your whole family? Surely someone knew.” How could they not? Vidal most certainly knew, but he was a vault. He shared nothing about Sebastian with anyone. The trust Sebastian needed to place in his bodyguard meant the man also kept his secrets. He’d told her the same of Terry and any other bodyguard assigned to her. They were hers to trust and they would never report on her.
“Armand had his own interests, and George?” Sebastian shrugged. “I never know what interests George from moment to moment. Mother knew, and I think she suspects I never gave it up. She encouraged me when I was younger, took me to cities with significant art history, hired tutors who could help me grow and, when I went on my backpacking tour? Well, it wasn’t so much a tour of cities as it was me looking for things to paint.”
Captivated, she sat down slowly on the only piece of furniture in the room, a long sofa. A throw blanket decorated the back.Did he fall asleep on it after painting all night?“Painting is why you love this yacht so much.” Oh, Sebastian owned homes around the world, but the yacht was always been his favorite. Many in the press attributed the preference to his partying reputation.
He gave her a sideways grin. “Guilty.”
“If I’d been your mother, I would never have let you stop this.” Surely the woman knew. Sebastian never sounded like she’d been distant with him or left him to be raised by the staff.
Settling next to her, he stretched out his legs. “I don’t think she wanted me to give it up, but like Armand and me, circumstances dictated she support my pursuit of a business degree. Mother would never forbid us pursuing our passions, but she raised us to support our family first.” Trailing his fingers along her thigh, he shifted sideways to stare at her. “Will you pose for me?”
“Um, all I have to do is sit still, right?” He’d seen her in every stage of undress, helped her get there more than once. She had no reason to feel shy yet—staring at his work, having the very real evidence of what he saw when he worked—she recognized posing for him would leave her in an oddly vulnerable position.
