Free For His Eyes Only by Liz Fielding

seemed to be somewhere else. Possibly thinking of all the reasons why it was a bad idea. What his lawyer would say. It would undoubtedly compromise his case against Morgan and Black...
    ‘A conditional yes.’
    Uh-oh...
    ‘I’ll give you a chance to sell Hadley Chase on one condition.’
    ‘Anything,’ she said.
    ‘You’re that desperate?’ he asked, with a look that warned her she should have asked what condition.
    ‘Anything that’s legal, decent and honest,’ she said, scarcely daring to breathe. Make that legal and honest. She was prepared to negotiate on decent...
    ‘Desperate, but not stupid.’
    Probably... ‘What is it?’
    ‘I want you to sit for me.’
    ‘Sit?’ For a moment she couldn’t think what he meant but, as he continued to look at her, hold her fixed to the spot with no more than the power of his gaze, she knew exactly what he meant.
    Her mouth dried and her hand fluttered from her shoulder to somewhere around her thigh in a gesture that took in all the important bits in between.
    ‘As in sit ?’ she asked. ‘Pose? Model for you?’
    ‘If you’re asking whether I’d want you naked, the answer is yes,’ he said bluntly. ‘It’s your body that I want to draw, not your clothes.’
    ‘Oh...’ She blinked as a rush of blood heated her skin, her lips, and something deep within her liquefied. Appalled by how much she wanted to do it, she curled her fingers into her palms to stop herself from reaching for her buttons right then and there.
    Misunderstanding her silence, he said, ‘You’re asking me to take you on trust, Natasha. That’s a two-way deal.’
    ‘Trust is important,’ she agreed, ‘but the thing is, I’m not asking you to take your clothes off.’
    ‘I will if it will make it easier for you,’ he said.
    ‘Yes... No!’ What on earth was she thinking? It was outrageous. She should be outraged, not tingling with excitement at the thought of exposing her ample curves to his molten gaze. So much for keeping this professional...‘Would you have asked if I was a man?’
    He shrugged. ‘Possibly. The right man, one with more than good muscle definition to commend him, and, like you, Natasha, he would have assumed I wanted more than a model.’
    ‘I’m assuming nothing,’ she declared, despite the betraying heat lighting up her cheeks that an artist, a man who saw more than most, would pick up in an instant, ‘but I’ve just been handed a very painful lesson about mixing business with pleasure.’ He said nothing so she continued. ‘My fault. I broke the work/life balance golden rule.’
    ‘With Morgan?’ he asked.
    ‘Miles? Good grief, no!’
    ‘Then it has to be Toby Denton, the guy who’s occupying your desk, driving your car. Did he get a hat-trick?’
    ‘I’m sorry?’
    ‘Did he break your heart, too?’
    ‘Oh... No...’ She shook her head. ‘We didn’t have that kind of a relationship.’
    ‘What was it like?’
    ‘A bit like a starter home,’ she said. ‘Something you know you’re going to grow out of sooner rather than later. I was too busy for anything serious and, while he might look like perfect boyfriend material, there aren’t many women who will play second fiddle to a rugby ball. The occasional night out, plus one do, sleepover suited us both.’
    ‘Colleagues with benefits? It was still a betrayal.’
    ‘Yes.’ Worse, she would never know whether it had been a spur-of-the-moment thing or planned from the start and she had been duped, taken for a fool.
    ‘Well, thanks for the vote of confidence,’ he said after a moment, ‘but sitting isn’t a pleasure. It’s uncomfortable, tedious, muscle-aching work. And you’re right. Business and pleasure is a bad combination. Good models are hard to find, which is why I don’t complicate the relationship with sex.’
    ‘Does that mean...’ She stopped. Of course it did. He’d just said so. Which was good. Really good. ‘Can I see?’ she asked, holding out her hand for the sketch