Feeling my heartbeats skip and falter from the ache of his pulling away, I blink rapidly and turn my head away from him. I’m humiliated. He’s still so close, and I can smell his skin. He hasn’t made a move to shift away from me, but he’s placed an emotional barrier between us like a ten-foot brick wall. Biting my lip to keep myself from crying or screaming, I steel my resolve.
“Look at me.”
I hear him but refuse to comply. Instantly, his hand and thumb are at my chin, and he turns my head back to face him. I know I have tears in my eyes because his face is blurry. I’m furious with myself for pushing and angry with him for leading me on.
“What is it you really think you are feeling, Gemma?”
Clenching my teeth, I try to pull my face from his grasp, but he doesn’t let go.
“Love? I don’t think so. Lust? Infatuation?” he asks.
I remain mute and feel a tear finally spill forth, sliding down my cheek. I swipe it away. When he reaches out to grip my wrist, I become infuriated.
“Let me go,” I demand, twisting my arm away from him.
Releasing my chin, he pulls my arm back behind me and gathers me close to him. My breasts press against his chest as I feel a second tear slip down my cheek.
“I can’t let you go, Gemma,” he rasps. “That’s the whole fucking problem.”
Suddenly, I can’t stand the thought of his mouth on mine. I have my pride, and he just walked all over it. As I turn my head to the side, I’m shocked when I feel his tongue against my skin. He licks the tears from my cheek, and then his mouth is at my ear.
“Trust me, I’m not what you want, Gemma. I’m not what youneed,” he whispers. “Don’t waste your time loving me.”
Pulling back to face him, I find myself staring into intense green eyes that are pleading with me to understand.
“But you’re who I have come to love,” I confess, finally allowing my head to catch up to my heart.
His eyes search my face, like he’s trying to find something, before he releases me abruptly. Walking away, he mutters, “Then you are a fool.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I watch him stop at the easel in the corner. I have to agree with him. I am the biggest fool of all.
Phillipe knows he’s being purposely cruel, but Gemma—sweet Gemma with the wide, innocent eyes—thinks of him as Chantel once did. They believe he is a man worthy of being placed high up on a pedestal. He already fell from that lofty perch months ago, and he still has the broken bones to prove it. The last thing he needs is to be placed back up there only to fall again.
When he reaches the other side of the room, he turns back to face the woman who is watching him with a mixture of love and hate etched across her face. He wonders about his self-destructive behavior.
He knew last night how Gemma felt about him. There was no other reason for her to let him touch her and possess her in such a way.But love? Where does she get the absurd notion that I’m capable of loving anything anymore? I’m not even capable of loving myself, let alone someone else.
Bracing himself for whatever she’s about to do, he asks cautiously, “Do you wish to continue?”
Raising her hand to her face, she wipes the remaining tears from her cheeks and squares her shoulders. She glances towardthe window and takes several deep breaths. Every time her chest rises, Phillipe curses himself for wanting to touch her. He wants to place his ear on her chest to hear the proof that she is alive, but he won’t do that to her. Hecan’tdo that to her because he’s barely breathing himself. To drag her down with him would be the cruelest twist of all.
“Continue what?”
“The paintings, Gemma. What else would I mean?”
She shifts, wrapping her arms around her waist.
Defensively? Maybe. Protectively seems more likely, though.She was back to protecting herself against him.
“There are only two left,” Phillipe explains.
She continues staring out the window, looking anywhere but at him.
“SacredandDeceptive.”
All of a sudden, she turns back to face him, focusing her eyes on his. Cool and devoid of emotion, she tells him calmly, “I’ll be back here tonight at six. We will doSacred, since that’s the ground I just apparently walked all over.”
Then, without another word, she leaves the studio.
