Figure Eight (Celtic Knot Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

art class.
    “Since no one is opposed to working with a nude model, I think we should begin our class,” Ginny said as she addressed everyone. Rownan had disappeared into the small alcove at the back of the studio before emerging with nothing but a towel draped around his shapely waist. His bronze skin made the white towel look like a blanket of snow wrapped around his legs. Striding toward the center of the room where Ginny had placed a stool, he whipped off the towel to sit on the stool and I swear every person’s jaw in the room dropped, even mine.
    “Shall we begin class?” Ginny asked.
    Oh my.
    Rownan’s body was like the statue of David—all hard cut and lean lines. Each feature from his strong jaw to the ripped pathway of his washboard abs was absolutely stunning. Even though my heart ached for Dominic, I couldn’t help but blush at the fact that my body responded to this beautiful man. Everyone around me was flabbergasted and leaning in to comment on their own appreciation for Rownan’s physique.
    Ginny’s chuckle for the response to the class at Rownan’s nakedness, broke me from my reverie and I chastised myself for lusting after someone who was not Dominic.
    “Okay class, clearly Rownan is beautiful,” Ginny stated and I saw a slight blush in Rownan’s cheeks. “You have your blank canvas before you as well as your acrylics. You may choose to use oils if you wish, just take into consideration the odor of them and also the drying time. Obviously, Mr. Kleinfield here is our subject. Try not to think about him as a drawing or a sketch, just dwell on the thought of him in general. How does your mind’s eye see him? Use your feelings and imagination to create what you feel onto the canvas before you.”
    Everyone got busy mixing colors and preparing pallets to being their paintings. I sat there with my hands clasped in front of me with my eyes darting back and forth between the blank white canvas in front of me and Rownan positioned on the stool in the center of the room. Ginny walked up behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder.
    “Having trouble getting started, Ashley?” she asked politely.
    “Uh, er, yeah, I guess,” I stuttered as more heat flushed to my cheeks to match the redness of my nose.
    “Look at Rownan, what do you see, what do you feel?” she asked.
    Oh my Lord, I cannot tell this woman what I am thinking! I felt turned on, hot and achy in places I had no right to. This man was making me experience all the things I felt with Dominic, and it had me feeling ashamed and miserable because I missed him so desperately.
    “I uh…” I started to say.
    “Want me to tell you what I see?” she asked with a smile when she seemed to notice my discomfort. I nodded my head. Anything to have to keep from revealing just exactly what it was I was feeling.
    “I see beauty, strength, and merit. I see smooth firm lines, and I envision a God. I feel drawn to him, like a force field trying to pull me into his orbit. I feel sex, hot, and my mouth waters,” she admitted as she moistened her lips and winked at me. I gulped audibly and she gave me a reassuring smile. How the hell did she just describe the same kinds of things I was experiencing? Only she left out the loneliness, longing, and despair I felt by missing Dominic.
    “Take your feelings and allow your brush to take over the canvas. Stop painting when your thoughts stop. But as long as they are flowing, keep painting,” she said before patting my shoulder and walking over to assist the other students.
    I picked up my brush with an unsteady hand, found a dark brown, and began to put paint on the canvas with long, slow strokes. I focused my eyes back and forth between Rownan and my canvas, trying to see the beauty in his body and not the panty dropping sexiness that radiated off of him in waves. My brows furrowed together as I tried to concentrate on each line, curve, and stroke of my brush. I felt awful, downright horrible with this nasty