Page 27 of Out of Office Nights
‘Then, let me put it simply. You need to dig deeper. Go bolder.’ When she blinked her incredible eyes at him, he pushed on. ‘Tell me what you were feeling when you created Eden’s wedding gown.’
‘Mainly? Deep irritation with you because you couldn’t stand your brother’s anxiety about his wedding so you decided to share your ill temper with everyone else!’
True, but there’d been the underlying reason, the perennial one that demanded perfection so he couldn’t be seen as flawed.Only valuable. ‘Be that as it may, what you created was far from hideous. It most definitely wasn’t angry. So?’
‘Friendship?’
‘Is that a question?’
She huffed. ‘Fine. Friendship. She was…isbeautiful and kind, and after what she’d been through, she deserved something memorable and gorgeous. Something unique.’
He nodded, picked up one sketch to examine it. ‘Good. Now, forget Eden. Pick someone else equally important to you. Find something that has made an equal impact on you. Put your own unique take on it.’
Sabeen watched him, a little intimidated by how easily he cut through obstacles. By the electrifying presence he conjured up just bybeing. ‘Is that what you do?’
The chameleon morphed again, an eerie mixture of resolve and bleakness washing over his face. He didn’t disguise it. Hell, he almost exulted in her seeing it. Openly warning her she’d fail if she attempted to define him. ‘No,cariña. My demons feed me all the inspiration I need,’ he drawled without a hint of humour or cynicism.
He meant every word of that.
Shock shortened her breath. His gaze dropped to her mouth, instantly spinning awareness tighter, more urgently around them.
If Farah was sunshine and smiles, embracing love and light with a loud, full-throated voice, Teo was turning out to be multilayered, the thickest of which was the Playboy Prince persona he’d fully mastered. The one which she needed to guard herself against. Because while she understood now that he was deadly on all fronts, that was the one she knew would be mostpotent. She’d seen him wield it in a three-minute clinch that still sent shockwaves through her every time she thought about it.
But…that didn’t mean she couldn’t use whichever persona he presented as fuel. Explore it. Her senses jumped in that familiar and oh-so-welcome way it did when she was on the right path. It wasn’t as potent as the euphoria of creating her very first collection, but it was a start. And she would cling to it with everything she—
‘Tell me what’s going on in that clever brain,’ he invited silkily.
She resisted excited flutters at his compliment. ‘Nuance. Layers. Blinding light and deep shadow.’
Several beats of silence, when he leaned closer, not quite invasive, but near enough to make her painfully aware of every inch of his perfect face. ‘And what brought that on?’ he asked, even silkier, his eyes drilling holes in her.
You. She bit her tongue before that fell out. It would stroke his already over-inflated ego. And worse, she would reveal her unsettled feelings about him.
‘I’ve learned it’s best to just invite the muse to make herself comfortable, not to question her too much in case…’ Silly superstition made her bite her tongue again.
His brows rose, the beginnings of humour lighting his silver eyes. ‘Surely you’re not afraid of your own muse?’
‘We’re not all equipped with the power to command them at will.’
‘No, you’re not,’ he tossed out with pure conceit.
He stepped away, and she immediately wished him back in her space, filling her senses with his intoxicating scent. Because when he was doing that, she didn’t have to think about the fragile transition of transferring her thoughts and elusive vision into reality.
He retrieved the sleek tablet he’d brought with him. Then, striding over to the sofa, he folded his towering figure into the sofa. Again, he’d avoided her grandmother’s chair. Again, Sabeen was secretly grateful. And a little disarmed at his unconscious sensitivity.
‘Well? What are you waiting for?’ he taunted without looking up from his screen.
Curbing the childish urge to roll her eyes, she pulled out a dining room chair, and for the first time in a long time, pure anticipation and adrenaline poured through her veins as she picked up her sketch-pad.
Her first inkling of time passing was when his shadow fell over her. Even then, her pencil raced over the sheet. She felt his fierce intensity. Tapped into it shamelessly with breath held. Almost there.
Almost…
She startled when his hand dropped over hers, stilling her fingers.
‘Time for a break,’ he said firmly.
‘No! I just… Wait, what are you doing?’
