Page 26 of Her Rogue to Ruin
“That can wait for another day.”
When she stepped toward her easel, Phin felt a rush of pleasure sweep through him at the notion that there would be another day, and hopefully many more, when he could spend time like this with Portia.
CHAPTER6
For a good long while,Portia asked no questions and simply did her best to concentrate so that she could get a basic sketch down—Phin’s body from the waist up and the sharp-jawed dimensions of his handsome face.
With many portrait subjects, she had to remind them to cast their gaze her way. Phin required no reminder. He watched her intently while she worked. At first, it had been unnerving, but soon the feel of him watching her turned heady.
She’d craved his attention at times when she’d visited Pemberton House. She could admit that now. So to lift her gaze and find him studying her was an extraordinary thing. When she caught him at it, his mouth would curve in a wicked smile as if he quite liked observing her. Enjoyed her knowing it too.
And heavens did she enjoy studying the planes and curves and angles of his body. She’d heard his mother mention that he often visited a fencing salon, and many young noblemen had also taken to boxing. Whatever his chosen sport, Phin’s muscled body caught the light and cast subtle shadows in the most appealing of ways.
Touching her brush to the canvas didn’t compare to touching him, but she tried to focus, even if his naked chest was the most gloriously appealing distraction she’d ever seen. Figure drawing in the past had been a studious, practical affair. Models’ bodies were to be broken down into shapes, a study in shadow and light.
But Phin wasn’t a nameless model. He was a man who’d featured in more of her dreams than she’d care to admit to anyone. And a ridiculous feeling began to warm her insides—a sense that he was here for her. Not simply to have an artisan produce a painting, but to have this time with her.
She mentally chided herself for such foolish fancy. He was here for another woman. Not her.
“So tell me,” she said as she began applying a bit of base color for his face and upper body, “about Mrs. Grove.”
He blinked as if surprised by her breaking the silence between them.
“What I said was true,” he began roughly. “I’ve met her twice. The first time I didn’t even speak to her. She was under the protection of another nobleman.”
Portia flicked her gaze his way, arching a brow. “Are you attempting to steal her away from him?”
Phin laughed. “Not at all. He married soon after, and she began looking for another protector.”
“And you want that role?”
He remained quiet so long, Portia stopped painting and looked at him.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “Or rather I thought I did.”
“You’ve changed your mind?” Portia’s pulse sped and her heart jolted in her chest. She did not like the hope that kept trying to take root inside her when it came to Phin.
“I’m reconsidering.”
She swallowed hard, her brush held aloft, an inch from the canvas.Why?The single word rang in her head. But then another thought, a practical one, took hold.
“So what of this painting then? Should we stop?”
“No,” he said firmly. “I don’t want to stop,” he added more softly. “After all, I haven’t entirely decided.”
Portia nodded and dabbed at the umber and white, mixing a shade for the shadows on his chest.
“Have there been many Mrs. Groves?”
“Are you asking me how many lovers I’ve had, Portia?”
“Yes, I suppose I am.” Her cheeks had gone from warm to scorching but she wanted to know. She shot him a glance. “And you did agree to answer my questions.”
“Two,” he said without a hint of shame. “And you?”
“None at all.” Portia rushed the words out and then quickly thought of another question. “Did you acquire both of them this way?”
Phin scoffed and flashed a wolfish grin. “That would make for too many nude portraits of me lying around London.” He stilled and fixed his gaze on her. “No, I did notacquirethem via gifts. One was…” He paused and drew in a sharp breath. “One was arranged by my father. The other was simply a matter of seduction.”
