Free Selling Grace: A Light Romance Novel (Art of Grace Book 1) by Samantha Westlake

broad chest and up to his dark eyes.
    He wasn't trapping me there; there was plenty of space on either side for me to step away. But I couldn't, almost as if his body was magnetically attracting me to him. If I just rose up on my tiptoes, let my hands reach out to wrap around his neck...
    Good god, no! With my last shreds of self-control, I broke the gaze between us, turned and took a step away. Maybe I just had to get out of his cloud of pheromones, or something. I sucked in a deep breath, fighting my rapidly beating heart. I was NOT about to screw up this job, possibly my last chance to earn the money I needed to pay off Barry, by falling into bed with Onyx, the artist that I needed to keep happy above all else!
    "You could keep him happy in bed," a little part of my mind murmured to me, but I ignored those words.
    "You know, Mr. Onyx, it probably would be a good idea for me to see your studio, just so that I can better sell your works to clients," I stated after I'd taken another couple breaths, pulling my professional aspect back firmly into place. "It will have to be a short visit, of course, since I can't leave the gallery closed for long."
    Onyx nodded, not even raising his eyebrows at the "Mr." that I placed in front of his name. "Of course," he promised me. "I'd hate to distract you from your work for too long."
    From the little twinkling in his dark eyes, I suspected that he guessed, quite accurately, exactly how much he would distract me from my work for the rest of the day. Damn him. He was just playing with me, like a cat playing with a trapped mouse.
    Inside my head, I could practically hear Portia's voice, shouting at me to not be a dummy, to grab this sexy, commanding artist and ride him until I came my brains out and couldn't manage to hold onto a single thought except for how I needed to gulp down about five gallons of Gatorade in order to rehydrate. Portia's advice might be what my stumbling lack of a love life needed, but it definitely wasn't what I needed to choose to address my financial problems - and right now, those were more pressing than how long it had been since I'd last managed to get laid.
    (Nine months, but don't tell anyone.)
    So I'd go along with Onyx and see his studio, remain very professional, and just stock up thoughts of Onyx for when I was alone and back in my apartment, I told myself. I wouldn't do anything that could corrupt our working relationship.
    I headed back to the front counter (anything to give me a little breather from the field of arousal that the man seemed to project out unconsciously from his body!) and grabbed my purse and keys.
    "Let's go," I told him, nodding to the door.
    Onyx just gave me one more of those enigmatic, knee-wobbling smiles before stepping out so that I could follow after him and lock up behind me.
     

Chapter Ten
    *
    Sure enough, Onyx's study happened to be only a few blocks away, close enough to walk. Idly, I wondered whether Carter had helped the artist rent out this space, before Onyx glanced over at me with those dark eyes and thoughts of any other man fled my mind like shadows from a spotlight.
    "This is where I work," he said, spreading his arms wide as he stepped back into the big, open space.
    I nodded, following after him (although being careful to keep a couple of feet between us, just in case that proximity-based seduction field of his seized control of my brain again). Trying to keep my mind off of Onyx, maybe sweaty and holding a hammer and chisel, peeling off his shirt as he worked, wiping the sweat from his dark brow... er, right. I quickly focused my attention on the space.
    In all honesty, it really was a very nice living and working space. The interior of the warehouse was largely open and untouched, with exposed steel girders overhead and windows set into the walls along the top of the structure to let in tons of natural light. Beams of sunlight lanced down, illuminating rectangles across the ground.
    On one side of the interior of