Chapter 1

Chapter One

" C ome in and take off all your clothes."

Ariel Wallace grimaced at how forward that sounded and mentally rehearsed another spiel.

"Make your way out the back. You'll find pegs to hang your clothes on."

That sounded worse.

"You've probably done this a thousand times before so head through that door, disrobe, and let's get started."

No way.

Ariel shook her head and covered her face with her hands, not surprised to feel heat scorching her cheeks and deriving little comfort from the familiar smell of turpentine on her paint-splotched skin.

She couldn't do this.

Being an artist involved spontaneous bursts of creativity, fabulous blending of colours, and frantic slashes of brushes, not inviting some guy she didn't know to take his clothes off so she could paint him.

Whopping big profit or not.

She'd find some other way to keep Colour by Dreams afloat. She had to. She'd promised Aunt Barb, the founder of this amazing gallery and the woman who had practically raised her, that her legacy would live on.

Ariel would do anything to make that happen.

The soft tinkle of wind chimes signalled a visitor entering the gallery and Ariel stiffened, her hands lowering from her face as she braced for an awkward confrontation. She knew how much uni students needed money and giving some poor guy the brush-off, no pun intended, didn't sit well with her.

If anyone knew about being poor, she did.

Which is exactly why she had to paint her first life portrait since art school.

She had no choice.

"Hello? Anyone here?"

"Be there in a second," she called out, casting a final longing look at the back door, wishing she could make a quick dash for it.

Instead, she smoothed her favourite ochre peasant skirt, retied the paisley bandanna under her unruly curls, and schooled her face into an ‘I'm in charge and not in the mood for nonsense' expression before stepping through the beaded curtain that separated her work area from the gallery out front.

"Miss Wallace? I'm Cooper—"

"Hi, Cooper. My studio's in the back, so if you head out there, I'll lock up here and be with you shortly."

The words tumbled out in a rush, a combination of nerves and shock. She'd expected a lean, young, scruffy guy to come slinking into the gallery looking half as embarrassed as she felt. Instead, she struggled not to stare at Cooper. She had no interest in his surname; she didn't want to get too personal considering she'd soon be seeing him in the buff.

Naked…

She swallowed, unable to link buff and naked with the guy standing in front of her. If she'd been mortified at painting some dishevelled, half-starved student without his clothes on, the thought of Cooper—all six-three, broad shoulders, long legs, killer smile, too-blue eyes, and dark hair—sitting for her without a stitch of clothing made her light-headed.

Though she could blame that on the oil paint fumes.

"I wasn't sure you'd want to do this," he said, amusement lighting his eyes, making them sparkle in the muted lights and sending an unexpected bolt of awareness through her.

"I have no choice."

She stared, stunned by his easy confidence, his cool poise. Wasn't this guy the teensiest bit embarrassed about getting naked in front of a stranger?

By his cocky grin and casual stance, obviously not.

"We always have a choice, Miss Wallace," he said, his deep voice resounding in the high-ceilinged room, as sexy as the rest of him.

Damn it, and that was with his clothes on.

It had been way too long since she'd been on a date. She definitely had to get out more if scoping out the models, a routine aspect of her work, had her practically swooning.

"Actually, I don't have a choice. If I can't capture you on canvas and sell the painting for the fortune I've been promised, I lose this place to some slime-ball developers who've been buying up the rest of this street."

Confusion clouded his eyes for a second before a tiny frown creased his brow and his smile vanished.

Great, she was scaring off prime model material before she'd even started.

Blowing a stray curl out of her eyes, she said, "Sorry to dump all that on you. I tend to babble when I'm nervous and to be honest, I haven't done nudes in quite a while. Guess I'm a bit bashful."

She averted her eyes and crossed the room, her beaded flip-flops slapping noisily against the polished Tasmanian oak boards, not wanting to see him staring at her as if she had two heads. Or worse, laughing at her. She'd always hated being laughed at, something the kids she grew up with at the orphanage soon learned.

"You think I'm here to model?"

After locking the door and flipping the sign to ‘closed', she swung back to face him, wishing she didn't need the money so desperately. Nothing was worth this awkward tenseness, even if he was the first guy to capture her attention in a long while.

"Aren't you?"

Her gaze flicked over him, starting at his almost-black hair worn a tad too long and curling at the collar of his navy polo shirt, over the snug way the shirt's cotton moulded his impressive chest, and downwards, where faded denim encased long, lean legs.

No doubt about it. Perfect model material, and he would be incredible to paint if those muscles hinted at beneath his clothes were as impressive as she thought. But there was something about him…something off-putting, like he didn't belong here.

He paused, staring at her too intently as if making up his mind about something. Well, she would have to make it up for him. She didn't have all night and as much as she didn't want to do this, the sooner they made a start the better.

"Look, I know this is awkward for both of us. Why don't we head out the back and I make us a nice cup of honey and ginger tea? It'll help us relax."

Unlikely, because how discombobulated this guy made her feel, she'd need to drink five kettle's worth to calm the hell down. "You can get changed behind that screen over there and I'll be back in a minute."

Ariel couldn't fathom the shock in Cooper's blue eyes as she headed into her studio. She expected to hear his footsteps following her and when he didn't move, it hit her.

His confusion, his reticence, his cocky cover-up act: this had to be his first time posing nude. He was probably more nervous than her.

Pausing in the doorway, she turned back to him, hoping to allay some of his discomfort.

"Cooper, if it makes you feel any better, you can keep your underwear on for this sitting," she said, with her best smile, much cheerier now she knew someone else in the room felt more embarrassed about this whole fiasco than she did.