He finally turned, but she saw by the stubborn set of his jaw that he wouldn’t make it easy.

“I want you,” she said.

If anything, his expression grew more arrogant. She’d badly dented his pride, and he needed much more.

She reached for the hem of her linen sundress, pulled it over her head, and tossed it aside. She unsnapped her bra and discarded it, slipped her thumbs beneath the waistband of her panties, pushed them down, and stepped out of them.

He watched her silently, his face revealing nothing.

She raised her arms and slid her hands into her hair, lifting it from the nape of her neck. She crooked one knee, turned slightly from the waist, and eased into the pose that had sold a million posters.

With her age and her weight, standing before him like this should have been a travesty. Instead, she felt powerful and fiercely sexual, just as he’d painted her.

“You think that’s all you have to do to get me back?” he scoffed.

“Yes. I do.”

He jerked his head toward an old velvet couch that hadn’t been here last time. “Lie down.”

She wondered if he’d posed another model on it, but instead of feeling jealous, she felt a stir of pity. Whoever the woman might have been, she hadn’t possessed Lilly’s powers.

With a slow, certain smile, she made her way to the couch. It sat beneath one of the studio’s skylights, and light showered her skin as she lay upon it.

She wasn’t surprised to see him grab a palette and tubes from the case. How could he resist painting her? Resting her head against one of the rolled arms, she settled with perfect contentment into the soft velvet while he worked, squeezing out the paint. Finally he gathered brushes and came toward her.

She’d already noted his quickened breath. Now she saw the fire of desire burning behind the genius in his eyes. He knelt before her. She waited. Content.

He began to paint her. Not an image on canvas. He painted her flesh.

He drew a soft brush fat with cadmium red across her ribs, then added Mars violet and Prussian blue at her hip. He dappled her shoulder and belly with orange, cobalt, and emerald, clamped a discarded brush between his teeth like a pirate’s dagger and stippled her breast in ultramarine and lime. Her nipple beaded as he swirled it with turquoise and magenta. He pushed open her thighs and adorned them with aggressive patterns of viridian and blue-violet.

She felt his frustration growing along with his desire and wasn’t surprised when he tossed the brushes aside and began to use his hands on her, whorling the colors, claiming her flesh until she could no longer bear it.