Read Online Scandalous by H.M. Ward - Free Book Online

lucky paintings would be pulled from the pile and completed. At any given time Jack had about a dozen paintings in his collection. It was this collection that patrons could browse and purchase from. One of the gallery girls said Jack sold them quickly, usually within a year or so. It gave him the means to own this pricy plot of land and pay his employees very well. Jack seemed to donate a lot of his fortune as well. He didn’t say anything, but I saw one of the letters on his desk thanking him for his generous contribution with way too many zeros to be real—but it was. And Jack was real, no matter how fairytale-like he seemed.
    As I sat and watched him paint model after model, I expected the feeling in the pit of my stomach to subside. There was something about watching the movement of the brush on bare skin, and the look in his eyes when he did it—like nothing else existed—it was alluring. I found that I wanted to watch him paint, that those moments were both awkward and exciting.
    The images strewn across the paint took my breath away, not only because of their beauty but because of their raw, evocative nature. In short, the paintings were hot. The way in which he achieved those sensual pieces of art was so far from the dirty things that people thought. Jack’s art was hauntingly beautiful. The images were burned into my mind, and seeing how he made them only made it more incredible. His directions were so cold and mechanical, the total opposite of what I’d thought he’d be while creating.
    Just as I found my groove and wasn’t concerned about dropping the models anymore, I dropped a model. It wasn’t really my fault, but it was completely my fault. It was about two weeks after I started, Jack and I were at the studio alone with a model. That part was normal. What wasn’t normal was the hollering lunatic that came barging in just when we were stamping the model, Rose, onto the canvas. Rose had her hand stretched out behind her, ready to do what Jack wanted. I held her other hand firmly, and was using my butt as a counterweight. My feet were slipping toward the canvas as I tried to hold her still and lower her at the same time. Jack’s eyes flew to the door when he heard the voice outside. His eyes blazed with fury when the woman threw open the studio doors and came traipsing in like she owned the place.
    “Jonathan Gray,” she snapped her fingers at him, commanding him to come like a dog. Gus appeared behind her with an apologetic look on his face. The witch snapped twice more.
    That’s when it happened. The model turned her head to see what was going on, and the tiny movement made my already slick hands lose hold of her. The model went crashing down onto the canvas, as I fell backwards onto my butt. All the air was forced out of Rose’s lungs as her back hit the hard floor. Knowing Jack couldn’t touch the naked, painted, girl, I scrambled over to help her up—my sneakers getting covered in paint.
    Jack was furious, “What are you doing here, Belinda? The Galleria is closed and I’m working.”
    A designer suit clung to her body, revealing every ample curve. Her long hair was elegantly plated into an elaborate hairstyle at the nape of her neck. The dark suit made her sandy hair seem darker. She sneered at him. “Yes, I see.” She made a disgusted face at me and Rose on the canvas. “Looks more like porn than art. Two girls wrestling on a slick canvas? Jack…” She tutted him, waving a finger at him like he was a naughty puppy.
    Jack practically growled, “Get out before I throw you out.” He turned his back on her, ready to storm away, but her words stopped him.
    “It’s only a matter of time, Jack.” The tone of her voice was sharp. Her meaning wasn’t clear to me, but it was to Jack. He turned and glared at her. The woman smiled, “When you change your mind, let me know.” She pressed a card down on the counter, turned on her heel, and sashayed out with Gus on her heels.
    Still helping