The Clever Fox: Part One (The Pleasure Hound Series) (6 page)

"We'll need more," said Lady Jayne.

"More?" Adom frowned. He only planned for one, was thrilled to sell three. But he could do no more. He would not be seeing his muse again. Not ever. When he returned home he was prepared to courier over her dress and never see her again. Forever.

"Of course we'll need more. We can't fill the gallery with just these three."

"Fill the gallery?" Adom wasn't sure if he spoke out loud. He was certain he'd misheard the lady.

A discard had never shown in this gallery before. Having a wall was the chance of a lifetime. She couldn't have said he, a discard and former pleasure monk, would have the entire gallery to display only his work.
 

Geoffri nodded his head enthusiastically. "Lady Jayne has given you your own show. All on the theme of the Goddess. Isn't it wonderful."

"I've pushed back the opening for two weeks," she said generously. "You'll be ready." It wasn't a question. Women of her status didn't ask. They commanded.

Adom bristled at the order. His fingers clenched to capture her wrists, tie them over her head, and...nothing. It ended there. There was no sexual attraction to this woman.

With one final glance that spent more time south of his body than migrating birds, Lady Jayne walked away, their business concluded. Geoffri at her heels.

Adom left the gallery in a daze.

His own show. It was what he'd dreamed for years. His own work, his vision, displayed for everyone to see.

He could do this. He could do more. His mind itched to do more paintings of her; Lady Alyss. She'd invaded his thoughts three months ago and then grew to dominate his entire being in just a day. He didn't have to see her in the flesh. She was in his head. He could keep her in his head and stay away from her in reality. When Adom returned home, he saw it would not be as simple as he thought.

She stood waiting outside the locked door of his storefront. Her arms crossed over her ample chest. Her foot tapped the ground. Her lips pursed in a pout as she glanced at the unmovable doorknob. As though she sensed his study of her, she turned to him, breathless. The sun chose that moment to shine its rays on her brown skin. Her wild curls sparkled and stretched in greeting.

"What kind of business do you run that you close at odd hours of the day?"

In answer, Adom bowed.

"I came for my dress," she said when he straightened without a word.
 

She looked like a queen on a mountaintop, reigning down edicts to her subjects. Adom climbed the steps slowly, taking in her every detail for his next painting.

She squirmed under his gaze. "Is it ready?"

Adom reached his hand out. She inhaled, moving slightly. His hand grazed her hip as he reached for the door handle. With a flick of his wrist he unlocked the door and pushed it open. He pressed his body against the door, and waited for her to cross the threshold. They stared at each other for a moment. He itched to mix paint to match the color of her churning gold eyes.

"You don't talk much," she said.

"I prefer colors to words."

She smiled, and it lit her whole face. "Me too."

Adom knew he should walk away from her. Hand her her dress and then lock his door and his mind to her. But that smile, the light in her eyes, it called to him. To more than his need to capture her expression.

"Your dress is ready, my lady."
 

She turned from him and stepped further inside.
 

Adom followed and shut the door behind him.

The dress hung on a rack in the center of the room. He'd covered it in plastics, preparing to have it couriered. She ran a hand over it as though it were precious.

"I'd like to try it on."

That would be a mistake. The last thing he needed was an image of her naked in his dressing room.

"The dressing rooms are through there," he pointed off to the side.

When she came out a few moments later, Adom's dick throbbed. He ducked behind the counter.

"It's a little tight in the bodice."

"It's supposed to be." His voice grated on its way out of his throat.

She stood before the mirror. The woven threads hugged her every curve. The knots down the center of the dress were perfectly aligned. Adom made the dress a year ago. It was as though he'd made it for her alone.

"Woven ropes." She ran her hands over the choice of fabric. "Wherever did you get such a clever idea?"

Adom didn't answer. His fingers gripped the counter.

She turned and sauntered over to him. "How much do I owe you?"

"It's yours."

She blinked. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm certain you need the money. It doesn't look like you have many...any customers. Which is a shame since you really are talented. But I suppose women just aren't used to males with Goddess-given talents."

"No, they're not, my lady."

"Well, your business will pick up once people see me in this dress and-"

She picked up a piece of parchment. Paper wasn't rare, but what was on the paper must've caught her attention. It was the sketch of the Goddess walking the firmament. He'd drawn it after her initial visit to his shop.

"This is simply exquisite.”
 

Adom cringed at her use of adverb.

“Though why you chose this shade of yellow is beyond me," she wrinkled her nose. "She has my skin tone. My best color is purple."

Adom straightened his face and took a purple pencil from his stash below the counter. He went over the yellow lines with the purple pencil. "You're right."

"Also the green isn't dark enough. Do you have something more like a teal or a viridian?"

Adom found both colors.

Lady Alyss took the viridian pencil from him and added to his purple lines. His mouth watered, his heart pounded, as he watched her deface his art. He tore his his from her face and gazed down at her work to realize...

"You're an artist."

The pencil froze in her hands. Then as though it were hot, she dropped it. "No," she said firmly. "I'm not."
 

She didn't meet his eyes. She reached for her purse and pulled out gems. More gems than the dress was worth. She reached her palm out to him. Adom opened his palm. When their skin made contact he felt a spark. From the flare in her eyes, he knew she felt it to.

She looked away from him and back down to the drawing. Her eyes roamed the contours of the woman's face. Then she looked back at him. Then back down to the drawing. He saw the connection being made in her eyes in real time.

"Is this...is this me?"

Adom didn't answer.

She picked up the drawing and looked at it again, anew. Her eyes going wide. "It is me. You made me..."
 

Her eyes went back to him. He knew what she would say before she said it. She would ask him to do her portrait. Some boring pastoral creation. He prepared himself to say no. Told himself he couldn't. Told himself to think about Emet and all he'd worked for. All they'd both worked for. He couldn't be alone with a woman. He shouldn't even be talking to this one in light of her occupation, her current assignment, which directly opposed his bondmate. The last time he'd been alone with a woman had nearly cost him his freedom. This one would cost more than his life. She'd cost the life and livelihood of the man he loved, the only person on the face of the Earth who understood and accepted him.
 

Adom hadn't told Emet about his dealings with Lady Alyss because he'd planned to make it a non-issue by never seeing her again outside of his imagination. Not telling him last night was one thing. But not telling him after today would be another. And if they worked together he'd have to tell him. Emet would definitely see this as a betrayal.

So when Lady Alyss opened her mouth to finish her sentence, Adom swallowed down his desire and prepared to answer her with the only answer he could.

"You made me look fat," she frowned.

Adom burst into laughter.

"You've got my skin coloring right, but my hair is wrong. That won't due. You'll have to do it again. And this time, we'll use more purple."

Adom laughed harder. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed like this.

"I don't see what's so funny?"

"I don't see what makes you think you can order me around. I'm not your bondmate, my lady."

"Thankfully."

Adom winced.

"Don't feel insulted. I have no interest in bonding ever, with any man."

Adom had never met a woman disinterested in bonding and having little girls. Lady Alyss just became more and more intriguing. "But you have an interest in art?"

She hesitated while considering her words. "I have an interest in beautiful things."

"You think my work is beautiful?"

"I think this is the most beautiful art I've ever seen in my life. And I've seen a lot of art. But you've rendered some elements wrong. I like for things to be perfect."

Adom looked her over, not a hair out of place. Her jewelry matched her wardrobe down to the hue of her shoes.

"I've hated every portrait ever done of me. You did this from memory. Imagine what you could do if I sat for you?"

Chapter Six

Alyss hung the dress in her closet. She’d wear it tomorrow and be the envy of every female in the Chamber. Most of the girls followed her fashion sense, trying to copy whatever she did day to day. But Alyss was always one step ahead of them. This time she’d be leaps ahead. And when they asked her where she got the dress, she wouldn’t tell. She’d say it was a private designer made especially for her: a one of a kind.
 

Which was the truth. The dress felt as though it were designed especially for her. Adom did excellent work on the tailoring. The fabric molded to her curves in perfection. Alyss was tall with a narrow waist, ample breasts and a large derriere. Everyone envied her for her derriere. Those and her breeding hips that were good for fashion. She hadn’t minded that Adom had drawn her with a few extra pounds. Alyss admired art from the Grecian time period where women were drawn with more flesh on their bones. But to her it was a matter of perfection. And he was so near to capturing her image perfectly. He just needed to make a few adjustments.

She ran her fingers over the fabric of her dress. The texture of the ropes on her fingertips sent a sizzle down her spine. Instead of pulling away, Alyss leaned into the gown. She caught the faint scent of Adom’s musk and paint. Alyss’ hands itched to hold a brush. She hadn’t experienced the urge in months.

Before she made a conscious decision, her feet were already in motion. She made her way down to Merlyn’s old lab. She hadn’t been there in months. Not since Merlyn left.
 

The door was unlocked. When she entered, the entire room was empty. The tables clear of beakers, microscopes, and cages. She actually missed seeing her sister in here with all of her vermin, bent over a scope, and jotting down notes in a paper book. She even missed the sight of Liam slunk down in a back corner, sneaking glances at her sister when he should’ve been calculating his numbers.

Alyss went over to the closet at the back of the room. She hesitated at the knob to the closet door. She could smell the faint scent of paint. Her fingers twitched. She hadn’t done this in so long. Her Mother never once encouraged the hobby. It was not scientific and would add nothing to the advancement of their society. That deemed art a waste of time. She’d told herself that the last painting would be the last time. She’d repeated that lie for years. Until three months ago when Merlyn left.

After her glimpse at the canvases being wheeled into the Chamber of Arts and Culture, the itch began. After visiting with Adom today and seeing his artwork, she itched to scratch. With Adom she’d not only seen the art with her eyes, she’d felt it on her skin with the dress. She’d seen herself through his eyes in his portrait of her. She ached to let her fingers fly free over parchment if only for a moment.

Just for one moment.

And this would be the last time.

Alyss threw open the closet doors and gasped.

It was empty.

Gone were all of her canvases. Canvases she’d had since childhood. The itch tore down her spine. It buckled her legs with its force. Alyss held onto the door knob to stay upright. Her hands shook, her eyes watered, her breathing came in shallow gasps. Pain bowed her shoulders as though her soul had been ripped from her body.

Without thinking, Alyss raced from the room. She ran down the hall on unsteady legs. She burst into the great room and gave her Grand Mother a start.

“Where are they,” Alyss demanded.

Her Mother looked up at Alyss. Her eyes narrowed. “Where’s what?”

“My -Merlyn…Merlyn’s things? What have you done with them?”

“Merlyn is no longer welcomed in this house and neither are her things.”

Alyss’ bravado seeped from her spine along with any vestiges of her soul. “What did you do with them? The things in her lab?”

“I had them taken out with the rest of the garbage.”

Her Mother’s eyes challenged hers. Alyss saw that her Mother knew exactly what she was referring to when she said garbage; the list of items included more than just microscopes and beakers.

“You should worry about your presentation tomorrow before the chambers.”

Alyss didn’t answer. Her mind frantically tried to remember each painting that was now lost to her forever. Years of work, her innermost thoughts and dreams displayed in the perfect balance of lines, curves, and color, all gone.

“Alyss. If this bill doesn’t get passed our family name will be ruined.”

With her soul ruptured, her bravado gone, frustration boiled up and out of her. “It's just a bill, Mother. They can’t stop your work.”

Angyla stood.
 

Alyss took a step back.

“This family has faced embarrassment after embarrassment. First with Celia’s spawn returning from the wild and marrying those men.”

Alyss’ cousin Chanyn had been raised in the Wastedlands by her aunt Celia, who wanted no part of their society or its men. After Aunt Celia passed away, two men found her cousin Chanyn. Lord Khial and Lord Dain were outcasts, and against her family’s advice, Chanyn bonded with the males in a great scandal.