Darkest Memory

Gabriel led her toward a lovely wing-backed chair set somewhat near the fire. Made of dark wood and near white satin padding, its simple elegance complimented her gown. "You will sit here for the painting."

She sat and instinctually crossed her legs.

"No," he said softly and though he didn't move she swore she felt his hand on her knee. "Uncross your legs but keep them together as you will be gazing toward the fire."

She followed his instructions and focused on breathing. He was so close, his every little motion noticeable. The way his wide shoulders flexed beneath the black designer T-shirt. The way his dress slacks stretched over long, well-muscles thighs. She could hear Alex mixing her paints and knew she was adjusting the lighting in the room. Still, Gabriel towered and directed and made thought impossible.

He crouched in front of her and took her hands in his. The stroke of his fingers on her palms drew her eyes down. The gesture struck her more intimate than a kiss. Without a word, he took one of her hands and placed it on the chair's armrest closest to the fire and laid her other over it.

"Now," he whispered and her eyes flew to his lips. "Turn your head toward the fire, Calah."

She did.

"No." His knuckles gently brushed her cheek and turned her chin more. "Like that."

She hadn't meant to whisper back. "And what of my expression?"

His hand covered hers. "Just as it is, with unleashed passion caught within a mask of confusion and whimsy." He leaned closer. "I've put that look there. Alex will capture it and every time you look at this portrait you will think of me. You will think of this moment."