Waking Up with a Billionaire (The Overnight Billionaires Book 3) (10 page)

“But what about Eden?” she said. “You don’t want to ruin your brother’s honeymoon, do you?”

“I don’t care if you leave town anymore. I want you gone.”

Since she had no other choice, she told the truth. “I can’t go back to my apartment.”

Grayson stopped wiping the paint off his face and turned to her. “Why not? Is someone after you? Is it Zac? Did he get out of jail?”

“No. It’s not Zac.” She paused. “It’s someone else.”

He studied her. “So that’s why you were in such a hurry to leave San Francisco? You’re running from this guy?” When she didn’t answer, he released his breath and tossed the towel in the sink. “Fine. But for the rest of your stay, there will be no more photo shoots.” He pointed a finger at her. “And definitely no more getting into the swing of things.”

T
here were mistakes, and then there were monumental mistakes. Letting Chloe talk him into photographing her had been a monumental mistake. Or maybe the mistake had been kissing her. Because up until that point, everything had been going pretty well. For the first time in months, Grayson had had an image of what he wanted to create and a medium to create it with. But taking photographs hadn’t been enough. His hand had twitched with the desire to paint.

Which was how Chloe had become his blank canvas.

And what was mind-boggling was that she’d let him. She hadn’t uttered one word of refusal as he streaked paint from her head to her cute little black-painted toes. Gone was the feisty, belligerent girl who didn’t agree with him on anything, and in her place was a compliant, sexy woman who gave him everything.

Even a kiss that blew his head off.

Unable to stop himself, Grayson switched over from the sales reports he’d been looking at on his laptop to the photographs he’d downloaded from his camera the night before. It was about the hundredth time he’d pulled them up. They were still as good as they had been five minutes ago. No, not just good, but damn good. As he had always known, Chloe was the ultimate model.

In each frame her big brown eyes projected innocence while her body projected a sexy toughness that was more than just appealing. It was captivating…and edgy. The bright paint on the wall accented her black bra and panties, while the purple and silver paint on her body accented Chloe’s dark hair and eyes and her tattoo. But as much as Grayson loved these pictures, he loved the last set even more.

In these her eyes were no longer innocent. They held a passion that spoke of hungry kisses and tangled limbs. Harsh groans and hard thrusts. Unrestrained lust and uncontrollable release. Grayson’s cock hardened beneath his fly, and he clenched his hands into fists. Hands that still tingled with the memory of holding Chloe’s firm butt cheeks as he searched for release.

Of course her passion hadn’t been for him. Her passion had come from the sexy underwear and the thrill of being worshipped by a camera. Grayson had seen it happen before with models. Once you made a woman feel beautiful, she would give you whatever you wanted. Ego seemed to be directly connected to the libido. Even the models he had painted had offered him sex on more than one occasion. He hadn’t taken them up on it. He had never wanted to use his art to manipulate women…until now.

“Grayson?”

Samuel’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he pulled his gaze away from the pictures of Chloe to find the head designer walking into his office. The man was as immaculately dressed as always, with his tie perfectly knotted and not a gray hair out of place. Which had Grayson self-consciously straightening his loose tie and combing his fingers through his mussed hair before he rose to shake the man’s hand.

“What’s up?” he asked. “I thought we had our meeting at one.”

Samuel glanced at his watch. “It is one.”

Grayson tried to hide his shock and annoyance that he’d spent the entire morning mooning over Chloe’s pictures. He smiled as he sat back down. “I guess time slips away when you’re having fun.”

Samuel sat in a chair across from him. “And are you having fun?”

It was hard to lie to a man Grayson respected as much as he respected Samuel. “Not yet. I’ll be glad when Deacon and Nash get back.”

A smile eased the corners of Samuel’s mouth before disappearing as quickly as it had come. Samuel had never been much of a smiler. “Somehow I don’t think Nash is in a hurry to get back. And as for Deacon, Deirdre called the house this morning, and I think
chaos
is too mild a word to describe what is going on over there.”

Grayson nodded. “I stopped by yesterday, and it does seem like my new nephew has stirred things up.”

Before Samuel could reply, Kelly walked in. She lifted a white deli bag, her spangled Hello Kitty bracelet flashing in the afternoon sun that shone through the window. “Even though you said you weren’t hungry, I took the liberty of ordering you lunch.” She set the bag down on his desk and pulled out a takeout container. “I thought a bowl of soup might put a smile on that handsome face of yours.”

An image of Chloe feeding him soup flashed through Grayson’s mind, and he shook his head. “Thanks, but I’m really not hungry.”

Kelly sent him a perturbed look. “If you’re going to work as hard as you have been, you need food.” She glanced at Samuel. “Tell him, Mr. Sawyer.”

Samuel cleared his throat. “I don’t think that’s in my job description, Ms. Melvin.”

Kelly huffed. “Well, it’s in my job description to take care of my boss.” She pushed the container of soup toward him. “Now eat!” She turned and flounced out of the office.

After the door closed, Grayson shook his head. “I never realized that my brother had two wives.”

“It sounds like she’s just worried about you.” Samuel steepled his fingers against his chin. “And so is Deirdre. She told me that you think you’ve lost your ability to create.”

Grayson’s hand twitched, but now with the strong desire to wrap it around Chloe’s throat. She’d had no business telling Deirdre Beaumont about his problem. Now it looked like it would be spread all over the company. He didn’t care about the employees finding out, but he did care about his brothers. His inability to paint would worry them, and they had enough to worry about between their new baby and new marriage.

He sat back and looked at Samuel. “I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t repeat that information.”

Samuel nodded. “I’m not much for gossip, Grayson. Although I’ve found that secrets always have a tendency to get out.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “So if I might ask, what makes you think you can’t paint?”

“If you got a look at my last few paintings, you wouldn’t have to ask. They’re crap.” He got up and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows. “I can’t even paint a damned apple.”

Samuel joined him at the window. “I went through a creative dry spell once. I couldn’t sketch a line without hating it…and myself.”

Grayson glanced at him. “So how did you fix it?”

“I decided to just draw and not look at the finished product. So that way I couldn’t judge myself too harshly. When I finished one design, I’d turn the page and start another. Most of them were crap, but I continued to draw until my mind relaxed enough to let my instinct take over.” Samuel reached out and patted Grayson’s shoulder. “It’s there. You haven’t lost it. Just give it some time.”

It was surprising how much Grayson wanted to believe him. “I hope you’re right. Painting is my life. Without it I’m nothing.”

Samuel’s eyes registered surprise. “If you’ll pardon me, that’s the biggest pile of bullshit I’ve ever heard. Painting isn’t who you are, Grayson. It’s what you do. If I never design another piece of lingerie in my life, I’ll still be Samuel Sawyer. Just like you will always be Grayson Beaumont—with or without the painting.”

“But what if I don’t like the Grayson Beaumont who doesn’t paint?”

“Then it’s up to you to make that man worth liking.”

“And if I don’t know how?”

Samuel looked around. “I think you’re doing a pretty good job so far. Not many men would be willing to take on the responsibilities of an entire company—especially creative men who would much rather be in a studio than an office.”

He followed Samuel’s gaze. “Right now I have no desire to be in my studio. Besides, I owe Nash and Deacon much more than just a few days of work.”

“I heard that they helped raise you after your mother died.”

“Not helped. They did raise me.”

“That must’ve been hard,” Samuel said as he stared out at the view.

Grayson nodded. “It was hard on Nash and Deacon.”

Samuel turned to him. “I wasn’t talking about them. I was talking about you. It must’ve been hard to be raised by two older brothers who couldn’t understand the sensitivity of an artist.”

“I’m not sensitive.”

The look in Samuel’s eyes was one of understanding. “All artists are sensitive, Grayson. Without sensitivity to the world around us, we’d have no need to create.”

Turning back to the window, Grayson studied the view of the bay and allowed his brain to absorb Samuel’s words. Of course he was wrong. Beaumonts weren’t sensitive. With the life they’d had, they couldn’t be.

Needing to change the subject, Grayson headed back to his desk. “I wanted to show you the catalog pictures and get your opinion before I piss off Miles any more than I already have.” He sat down and tapped his laptop, not recalling Chloe’s pictures until they popped up. Before he could click to another screen, Samuel moved behind him.

“Wait. That’s the woman from the elevator—the one with the duck bouquet. I thought she didn’t model.” He leaned over Grayson’s shoulder to get a closer look. “So is this the cover for the new catalog? It’s brilliant. The woman encapsulates your new collection to a T—belligerent youth all wrapped up in sexy innocence.”

Grayson frowned. That was Chloe. Belligerent, sexy innocence. It was a deadly combination. “I’m not planning on using the picture for the cover.”

“Of course not. The bare breast wouldn’t work. But the concept is perfect to attract younger women.”

“Younger women?” Deirdre swept into the room, causing Grayson to get to his feet. Today she was dressed in a black-and-lime-green tennis dress with matching visor and tennis shoes. Most women would look cute in the outfit. Deirdre just looked more intimidating—like she could backhand you across the room with her Spalding. She moved around the desk and gave Samuel a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t you even think about turning me in for a younger model, Samuel Sawyer, or I’ll mess up your underwear drawer—no more starched and wrinkle-free Calvins for you.”

Her gaze landed on the laptop. “Ahh, wonderful. I see that Chloe lit a fire under you.” She lifted an eyebrow at Grayson. “So when can I expect the painting that is going to make my charity event a huge success?”

“Chloe?” Samuel looked at him. “This is the same woman Deirdre told me about? The woman who is living with you?”

“She’s not living with me,” Grayson snapped a little too loudly.

Deirdre’s eyebrow hiked even higher. “Then what was she doing at your house wearing nothing but a skimpy T-shirt?”

Since there was no way he was going to go into the details of his kidnapping with Deirdre, he sat down and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, so she’s living with me, but I’m not painting her. I’ll paint someone else.”

“I don’t want someone else. I want Chloe. Her mother died of cancer, so it only makes sense that she’s your model.”

He lifted his head and looked at Deirdre. “Chloe’s mother died of cancer? How did you find that out?”

“She told me,” Deirdre said. “Although she’s as talkative as you are, Grayson. Now, when will the painting be ready for me to pick up? And don’t give me any of that painter’s block nonsense. If you truly have a problem, I’ll call my therapist right now and get you in for an appointment.” She pulled a cell phone out of her purse. “And I’ll call Deacon and tell him to come in to work—”

“Fine!” Grayson threw up his hands. “I’ll paint Chloe for the benefit, but I can’t guarantee that it won’t be a pile of crap.”

Deirdre smiled and lowered her phone. “Haven’t you realized by now that wealthy people love to buy art—crap or not? It makes us feel so wonderfully superior.” She waved a hand. “Now I must be off. I have a tennis lesson at three.” She kissed Samuel and tugged his tie loose from its perfect knot. “Better.”

After she left, Samuel straightened his tie. “That woman is a force to be reckoned with. Which is why I fell in love with her. There’s never a dull moment.” He leaned closer. “Now show me the rest of Chloe’s pictures.”

Once Samuel saw them, he was convinced that they needed to use one for the cover of French Kiss’s winter catalog. And the more Grayson looked at them, the more he had to agree. There was only one problem.

Chloe.

She wouldn’t want her face on the cover of a catalog. He’d had a hard-enough time convincing her to let him use the one he had taken in Fiji, in which the hat covered her entire face. Again he wondered whom she was hiding from. Did it have something to do with her mother’s death?

Kelly’s tap on the door brought him out of his thoughts. She walked in and took one look at the untouched container of soup before sending him a hard look. “You do realize that gaunt, skinny men will not sell underwear. That’s what gaunt, skinny runway models are for.” She walked over to his desk and handed him a folder. “And speaking of runway models, Natalia wanted me to give you this.”

“What is it?”

“Her resignation.”

Grayson sat straight up. “Her what?” He opened the folder and quickly scanned the barely legible letter. “But I don’t get it. Why would she do something like this? I thought she loved modeling.”

Kelly examined the tiny little cat decals on her fingernails. “Well, I might have an idea of why she quit. Of course, I’m not saying a word to a man who won’t even taste the soup I brought him.”

Grayson narrowed his eyes at her. “I’ll eat the soup. Now spit it out.”

She dropped her hand and leaned closer. “Well, from what I hear, she loves modeling, but she loves something else more.”

“What?”

“You.” Since all Grayson could do was stare at her in confusion, Kelly continued. “It seems she has a major crush on you, and after the kiss in the elevator, she thinks you have one on her too. And the only thing that’s keeping you two apart is the fact that you won’t date employees.” She nodded at the resignation. “And now she’s not an employee.”

Grayson sat back and covered his face with a hand.

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Kelly said. “I’m sure she’ll come back once she figures out you’re living with a woman.”

He lowered his hand. Obviously Deirdre liked to gossip as much as Kelly. He started to deny it, but then stopped. Maybe Kelly was right. If Natalia heard he was living with someone, she would stop this foolishness and come back to work. Hopefully before Deacon found out and killed him.