A light entered his eyes as he tried not to smirk and looked at me in an assessing manner. His fingers twitched a little and he frowned.
"What is it?" I asked.
Jasper inclined his head to one side. "Messy sexy," he murmured and I regarded him warily.
"Ummm...thanks?"
He looked up from my painted thighs quickly and made an impatient sound. "I didn't mean you. I meant the subject for my photograph."
Slowly, I raised an eyebrow at him. He had not picked up his camera since the stroke, not shown any interest in offers or projects and now he was thinking about it because of some spilled paint. Despite my resentment of him, I felt hopeful. For him. For Cole. This was good. This was progress.
"I'm the subject in this case," I reminded him pointedly.
He pursed his lips. "I was referring more to the concept rather than the individual. Honestly, anyone would do. You just brought it to mind." His fingers curled and uncurled slowly as though itching for something.
Refusing to let his words get to me, I decided to look at the bigger picture and marched from the room to the office, passing an open-mouthed Francesco sleeping on the couch. I smiled in amusement and shook my head as I grabbed the mega pixel camera and stalked back to my bedroom determinedly. Jasper would exhaust any soul no matter how patient they were.
Dropping the camera on his lap, I came to stand in front of him again and jerked my chin to the device. "Go ahead. Take some pictures."
He scowled at me, refusing to touch the camera or even glance at it. "Just because I talked about it, doesn't mean I want you to pose for me," he growled, angered by my high-handedness.
Picking up the fallen jar, I dipped my fingers inside it and brought them up to smear some ocean blue paint across my jaw line to my chin.
"This messy enough for you?" I asked before switching the jar with bright pink paint and smearing some on my cheek, knowing the contrasting colours on my skin would prove too aesthetic for him to ignore. I knew my art.
I smiled at Jasper as sweetly as I could manage and went to sit with my knees drawn up in front of the canvas I had been using. Soft afternoon sunlight poured in from the window bathing half my body in a golden hue while the other half remained in shadows.
I'll give him concept.
He stared at me for a long time, his eyes growing darker, passionate and then without taking his gaze off me, he picked up the camera, removing the front shutter.
I held my breath and sat absolutely still as he paused for a moment.
Then he raised the camera to his eyes and I sighed in relief, feeling a sense of accomplishment that I had somehow inspired him to reunite with his art again. I understood the feeling all too well.
"Twist your head a little to the side," he instructed me quietly and I did.
Jasper turned a knob, probably zooming in and clicked once. Twice.
"Tilt your chin up and look away from the window," he spoke after a moment.
"Look away as in anger or like I'm being wistful?" I teased and he exhaled impatiently. There was no messing with Jasper Wells when he was in serious photographer mode.
"Just look away. Keep your expression happy, posture energetic but sensual," he ordered.
"Like a chipper bird in the midst of mating season, okay, got it," I quipped smartly and tried not to grin at his exasperated features but did as he asked.
Click, click, click went the camera and I found myself relaxing as he continued to guide and instruct me while pausing to allow me to dab some more beautiful colours upon my exposed skin. My body was a canvas now and he was the artist, not me. I was just a tool.
Not once did he suggest that I strike some kind of provocative pose or bare more than I already did. He was very professional and I was surprised to find that I was mildly disappointed. Not once had he touched me since I had returned or given any indication that he wanted to and I thought I had accepted that but it rankled now when his sexual disinterest was so obvious.
I shouldn't take it so personally though because Cole had already told me about Jasper’s lack of desire for sex.
He lowered the camera and narrowed his eyes at me. "What's wrong?"
I shook my head mutely.
He frowned. "Then stop looking sad. It doesn't go with the concept. This is messy sexy remember?" he stressed rudely. "Not to mention vibrant. Give me some passion, Skye."
I could not help the snort that escaped or the words that followed. "You're one to talk."
Silence.
Absolute and devastating silence.
I peeked at him from beneath my lashes and found him glaring at me.
"Great. First it was Cole and now you," he drawled as he tossed the camera on the bed. "Make fun of the guy who can't get it up because of the illness that almost killed him. It takes time to recover from that near-death experience, Madison. It takes time for all your bodily functions to get back to normal. Not to mention the fear that if you start to enjoy all the pleasures of life again, you could suffer another stroke that might cripple you for good or kill you."
I started to cry as I witnessed the raw emotion displayed on his face by the time he finished speaking. I had no idea. Jasper never revealed his fear to us. Never before had he acknowledged it or talked about it. How could we have known that part of the reason he didn't want to recover
