The Passion Series Read Free Page A

red lipstick, just a nice mauve to go with her Ann Taylor tweed jacket. And she had her hair up today. Yes, a totally different look. She reassured herself that he wouldn’t be able to tell. But she wasn’t entirely convinced.
    She almost forgot to look at the rest of the details. It was important to know how the client answered the initial questionnaire and understand what they had in mind.
    Across the top of the form were the words “Ryan Spencer Blake,” confirming what she already knew. She laid her head back against the soft seat and closed her eyes. Maybe if she kept them closed, this would all go away.
    The most-loved male star on the big screen had commissioned a painting and asked for her to be the artist. Great, just great . Under other circumstances, she would have been thrilled.
    These were not normal circumstances. And there was no way out. As she’d so recently learned, you don’t refuse Ryan Blake. Plus, he could pay plenty for the painting he wanted. In fact, he could pay any price. That fact struck her with impact. Ryan Blake got what he wanted—and last night, he had wanted her.
    She stuffed the rest of the pages back in the envelope. She couldn’t bear to look at them. It was standard protocol to be familiar with the client’s request before the meeting, but nothing about this meeting was protocol.

6 – The Office
    Ryan was much more comfortable in his Armani jeans than he had been in the designer suit last night. All the women swooned over his muscled thighs in the tight jeans. But he just wore what he liked. Being a star did have privileges, and wearing what you liked was one of them.
    He did compromise by wearing his lambskin leather blazer over a gray fitted T-shirt. He thought of it as professionally casual. Maybe he could start a new trend.
    He turned to look out the window of his office. He was on the top floor, so the view of downtown was impressive.
    He heard a soft knock at the door and turned to press a button on his desk to allow entry. Patricia opened the door enough to step inside and announced, “Your three o’clock appointment is here, sir.”
    Ryan felt warmth radiate through his body and noticed the beating of his heart. Patricia continued to stand in the doorway.
    “Sure, show her in.”
    There was that aroma of roses growing in the sun. The scent was as real as if he were holding her in his arms.
    “Mr. Blake, this is Heather Ann Lawson.” Heather stepped into the room and up to the polished desk as gracefully as she could muster.
    Patricia handed Ryan a glossy, gold-embossed business card and promptly turned and left the room. He vaguely heard the click of the heavy door, locking after it closed behind her.
    Heather gave a slightly embarrassed smile and placed the notebook she carried on the edge of the desk. She had determined to be professional, nice but professional, to get through this visit.
    Ryan looked directly at her and she leaned forward, offering her right hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Blake.”
    The hunk of a man, now in washed jeans that fit him a little too perfectly, came around the desk to greet her. As he came nearer, Heather’s pulse sped up, completely out of her control.
    He stood there, endlessly patient, and Heather hoped she wouldn’t pass out. She could smell the utter maleness of him, pheromones even his sexy cologne couldn’t fully mask. She had the urge to have him pull her into his arms and continue where they left off last night.
    Noticing how uncomfortable she was, Ryan had a gleam in his eye. He politely took the hand she’d offered and held it briefly. “Please, Ms. Lawson, have a seat.” He returned to the other side of the desk and removed his black blazer, which he hung over the back of the chair.
    He spoke the usual pleasantries and offered coffee or water, if she’d like. Heather didn’t really hear anything. She was just glad to be sitting before she fainted for real. He looked chiseled in the tight T-shirt that