Page 309 of Dirty Discipline, Vol. 1

She bit his arm. “You're so mean,” she pouted.

He grinned and gave her backside a gentle slap. “Don't you know it?”

He drove her to his place and they entered through the double doors. She gasped, taking in all the marble sculptures. “Whoa. You're a collector?”

He shook his head and smiled. “No. A sculptor.”

Her eyes went wide. “You sculpted these?” she breathed. He was filled with gratification at her appreciation and wonder for them. She walked around slowly, admiring each one. She touched them, and although he usually forbade it because the oils from people's hands will discolor the marble, with her he didn't mind. He liked her touching what he had made.

“How long have you been sculpting?”

“Since right after I was turned. Over 400 years.”

“Italian Renaissance,” she said with awe and he was pleased that she was educated enough to recognize his roots.

“I apprenticed with Michelangelo.”

Her jaw dropped. “What? Incredible. This is incredible. I can't believe it!”

He took her hand. “Come. I'll show you what I'm working on right now.” His heart was pounding as he led her out into the workspace that separated his quarters from Stella's and Fox's. He was afraid to look at her face as she took it in, so he stared at her other face—the marble one—instead. She made a little choking sound and he had to “grow a set,” as Fox would say, and look over. Tears. She was covering her mouth, crying. He was frozen—his normal instinct would be to pull her into his arms and soothe the tears, but in this case, he couldn't breathe, couldn't move. That was his whole heart on display right there and he didn't know what her reaction meant.

“Oh my God,” she breathed at last.

He swallowed. “What do you think?”

She made a laughing-hiccuping sound. “I think it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my whole life! I… I don't know what to say. You made me beautiful.” Then she hesitated. “It is me, isn't it?”

He laughed—a relief to the tension that had built in him. “Yes, I hope you can tell it's you!”

“Of course I can,” she said quickly. “I just…” she shook her head, “I just can't believe it. I just can't believe it.” She shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Does that mean you like it?” he asked softly.

She turned to him, looking serious, her eyes shining. “I love it. I love it so much. I feel so incredibly… honored that you sculpted me.”

His arms finally obeyed him and he was able to draw her to him. “Thank you,” she whispered. He squeezed her and kissed her hair.

She drew away and looked at him. “But why? Why me?”

That was a question he couldn't answer for himself, much less for her. He just shrugged and redirected the conversation. “Come on, let me get you settled in so you can get to bed. It's already an unreasonable hour and you have a lot of work ahead of you.”

He brought her into the kitchen. “Help yourself to anything you like in the morning. The espresso machine is right there and the grounds are in the canister to the right of it. There's cream in the fridge. I don't usually eat breakfast, but I think there's fruit and you could always make toast with jam or something.”

“Sure, I'm easy.”

“The down side of being here is that there's no natural light. You can always step outside to the garden, but make sure you close the door tightly behind you, in case one of us comes out.”

“What would happen if the door were open when you came out?”

“Well, if a direct shaft of light hit us, we could die. Indirect light would blister or burn more like a sunburn. And even a little exposure can cause temporary blindness.”

Kate shuddered.

“So just be really careful, okay?”

She nodded in agreement.

“The password for the WiFi is 1522. Can you remember that?”

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