Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

A riel snuggled into the comfy armchair, loving the homely ambience of The Cypress Tree. The new owners had done wonders with the place and she wasn't surprised to see it packed on a Friday night.

"What'll you have?"

"I'll have a decaf skinny soy turmeric latte, please."

Cooper stared at her in disbelief. "You're kidding, right? Tell me that's not a real drink."

Ariel chuckled. "To a boring, strong black, caffeine-swilling coffee hick like you, I guess not."

Shaking his head, Cooper placed their order with a waitress sporting a magenta Mohawk and enough facial piercings to keep the local silversmiths in business for the next decade. Though the punk hairstyle didn't do much for her, Ariel admired the teenager's gold lame hot-pants and wanted to ask her which boutique she frequented.

"At the risk of sounding like the hick you just accused me of, is it fancy dress night at this place?"

Ariel grinned, knowing exactly what he meant, but wanting to tease him a little. "Why would you say that?"

Cooper's gaze traversed the cosy café, his eyes growing wider by the minute. "For starters, there's a guy over there wearing cow-print leather pants and a red vest with nothing underneath. Then there's another guy wearing orange leather chaps over denim shorts. Throw in the overabundance of black spandex, gold sequins, and silver metallic objects protruding from every body part imaginable, do you blame me for asking?"

Ariel shrugged, saddened by the huge gulf between them. They really were from opposite ends of the planet in every way: their tastes, their occupations, their thinking.

Yet she still found him attractive. Go figure?

Damn hormones.

"I don't blame you for asking. I'm not surprised a big shot like you wouldn't know about a cultural hub like Brunswick Street. Take another look around."

She swept her hand wide in an all-encompassing gesture. "This place is where it's at. Hip, funky, and brimming with life. If you took a walk up the street and actually looked into the buildings rather than dreaming about tearing them down, you'd see a hundred places like this. Jazz bars, tapas bars, Latin American clubs, comedy clubs, and restaurants from all around the world. It's a metropolis of incredible contrasts and I love it."

"You really think I'm some sort of ruthless cretin, don't you?"

He spoke softly and she had to lean forward to hear him over the din of chattering patrons and Spanish guitar music.

Thankfully, the waitress arrived at that moment and deposited two, enormous steaming mugs in front of them, giving her time to phrase her answer carefully. She wanted to be honest, but something about his watchful, brooding expression told her now wasn't the time to be too brutal.

"Look, I have this habit of being blunt. You know, honesty is the best policy and all that. Guess I just realised exactly how different we are."

Ariel picked up her latte and took a huge sip, scalding or not. There was honesty and there was honesty and from what she'd just said, he might assume she was interested in him. If she burned her tongue on the hot coffee, it mightn't be a bad thing. She might actually shut up for two seconds.

"You got that right," he said, a speculative gleam in his eyes.

Great. The guy wasn't stupid and he'd picked up on her interest just as she'd suspected.

"One more session should see us done," she said, gratefully hiding behind her latte mug.

"Make that two sessions."

"Pardon?"

"One for you, one for me. My business proposal, remember? That one tiny detail you seem to have forgotten?"

"Oh, that . You're right, minor details." She smiled, showing she intended no malice. "Maybe I'll be too exhausted after finishing the portrait to hear what you've got to say."

"And maybe I'll spread nasty rumours about the artist getting up close and personal with her model."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

By his challenging grin, she knew he was kidding, but somehow, she didn't want to test him. Besides, the thought of what he'd suggested sounded way too good to a woman who hadn't got up close and personal with any guy in a long time.

"Do you always get the final word?"

She could've backed down, but where was the fun in that? If there was one thing guaranteed to get her fired up it was a challenge, particularly from a guy who probably always got what he wanted.

Rather than answering her mild dig, he changed the subject altogether.

"You mentioned earlier that all you need to finish is some facial details?"

"Uh-huh."

"Do we have to do that in the studio?"

He reached for his coffee and drained the mug in one go, when what she really wanted to see was his entire face and read where a strange question like that was leading.

"The studio is where I do my portrait work."

Though that wasn't entirely true. She'd often taken a sketch pad down to the St. Kilda foreshore or Albert Park Lake, capturing whatever scene took her fancy, whether it be a person, animal, or landscape. New surroundings inspired her and she loved it.

But the thought of sketching Cooper outside of her studio seemed way too personal.

Like this.

One on one time in a cosy café, sitting across from his sexy smiles and piercing blue eyes, definitely entered the realm of too personal and made her forget one very important point.

This guy was the enemy.

No matter how charming, how glib, how sexy, he was here for one reason and one reason only; to tear her world apart. And she'd be a darn sight smarter to concentrate on that salient fact rather than the intense colour of his eyes.

"Too bad. The weather forecast for the weekend is perfect and I thought it would be good to try a change of scenery. Don't know about you but I need to shake off my moon tan and catch some sun."

He held his chin and turned his face from side to side, a cocky grin on his face. "It would be an excellent opportunity for you to study my exceptional profile in some real light. You know, to put the finishing touches on the masterpiece and all."

She shouldn't encourage him, she really shouldn't. But who could resist a man with a smart mouth like that?

"Where did you have in mind?"

Cooper winked and tapped the side of his nose in true conspirator fashion. "Why don't you leave that up to me? Who knows, this boring hick might surprise you yet. I'll pick you up on Sunday around ten."

With that he stood, took a final glance around the café, sent her a sexy smile and headed out the door, leaving her wondering if she'd taken leave of her senses.

Painting Cooper was one thing. Spending Sunday morning with the cocky, infuriating guy, another.

Think of the finished portrait…think of the money…

Instead, all she could think about was how denim did incredible things to his butt and how stupid she was for noticing. Worse, how in just over a week, she liked this guy more than she'd liked any guy before.

Not good.

And she had a feeling that by spending her precious Sunday morning with him, things were about to get a whole lot worse.