A Deal with Demakis(27)
“Like the one in the comic book you’re working on now? That’s what you called me that first day, didn’t you?”
Shock reverberated through her at how clearly he remembered what she had uttered in a daze. He stood up and turned to the right, striking a pose with an imaginary pistol in hand. With his tall body, he should have looked awkward. Instead, he looked perfectly gorgeous.
“Spike, wasn’t it? Did you model your hero after me, Ms. Nelson?”
She shook her head slowly from left to right, unable to tear her gaze away from the perfection of his profile. Wishing she had a camera in hand, she studied him greedily. “Spike is the villain who kidnaps Ms. Havisham. You’re not a hero, Nikos.”
“Ahh...” His gaze moved over her face lazily, sliding past her chin to the shirt that hung loose on her, the vee of it, to her bare legs. “Is this Ms. Havisham a fragile little beauty that conquers his heart and teaches him how to love?”
Her heart came to a stuttering halt. Cursing herself for her runaway imagination, she smiled. There was nothing but mockery in his words. “Wrong again.”
“Is the whole book done? Tell me what’s involved.”
A spurt of warmth filled her at his interest. “I am still doing the preliminary sketching and have written down the plot. Once I finalize the characters and the story, I’ll do the model sheets for each character and the final step will be to begin inking.”
“Hmm...so you do it all by hand, not software.”
“Yes, mostly I’m a penciler. I like doing it by hand, getting all the expressions right and haven’t really decided on an inking method for sure, mostly I’m just playing with all the techniques. Sometimes I will color, sometimes I...” She caught herself at his smile. “Sorry, I tend to get carried away on this topic.”
“No explanation needed. Vintage cars give me a hard-on like that.” He laughed as furious color rose through her cheeks. “It sounds really interesting. Do you have all the supplies you need?”
The small spurt grew into a gush of warmth. She nodded.
“When can I see them?”
“What?”
“Your sketches. I want to see them.”
“Maybe when you learn to say please,” she said, and he made a disappointed noise.
She almost liked him at that moment, almost. Which only proved how right he was in calling her a pushover.
He grinned in that sardonic way. “Now please, humor your boss and try that red dress on. I know you want to.”
She took a couple of cocktail dresses from the woman and sneaked back to her bedroom. She wasn’t going to accept any of it. But there was no harm in indulging herself, was there?
In her bedroom, she pulled off her shorts and T-shirt, and instead of the red one, pulled on a strapless sheath dress exactly the color of her eyes. It fit her as if it was made for her. Sliding the side zipper up, Lexi turned toward the full-length mirror.
Her breath lodged somewhere in her throat. Simply cut, the designer dress showed off her slender shoulders and slight build to maximum advantage, ending with a small flare just above her knees that contrasted with the severe cut.
She didn’t look sophisticated as he had claimed. Maybe she never would. But better than that, for the first time since she had realized she was never going to have any curves, she looked like a woman.