Chapter 36

She was completely ignoring him and he flew into a rage. In a second he already breezed across the room, grabbed her wrist and turned her to face him. The sudden violent move must have shocked her to death. He meant to give her a hard lesson but when he saw her flinching, when she looked at him with the fearful look in her eyes, suddenly the rage turned into a surge of guilt and remorse.

She bursted out in a desperate look.

"Do you have to be this cruel to me? Whatever you might think or believe, I never meant to challenge you. I have no defense against you. Why would I ever want to vex you?"

And the words struck him in the right place. He had been unnecessarily cruel to her. He knew certain things could provoke him to explode very easily, but this time he had acted like a total creep. He had overreacted to her response, in fact he was the one who pushed her to the edge. Moreover, how could he used such physical force to threaten a defenseless woman? He released his grip and stepped back to give her some space. She rubbed her aching wrist reflexively, and the faint red stain there made him overflowed by a terrible guilt. He glanced quickly at her face and felt relief to find no tears.

"I..."

He almost blurted the word 'I'm sorry' but he held it back. It must have been decades since the last time he said the words.

"I need you..."

Why he let the sentence strangled with a pause, only God knew. Because he didn't understand either. She looked even more shocked and he corrected instantly.

"I mean... to finish the painting."

Silence hung in the air afterward and lasted several seconds before it dispeled by his quiet voice.

"Please stay."

How odd! She couldn't believe it. One moment he was burning, the next second the fire was completely dead like being poured by a heavy rain. She looked over him and it surprised her that he looked beaten, his eyes downcast and tinged with regret. When he raised his eyes, they looked morose. Somehow it touched her, and made her feel vague. She walked to the settee, sidestepping around him. She sat there again.

When he watched her returning to the settee without saying a word, he was moved. She was softhearted and forgiving. She wouldn't make his man beg for forgiveness. She was understanding. She was gentle and caring. She was kind and honest, simple and true. She was everything he was not and he could never be.

He had sensed it the moment he saw her in the meadow. His instinct didn't lie, what moved him to paint her was far beyond that beautiful face. He was inspired by the beauty that was invisible, true beauty that lied within her. She had touched what was left in his heart, that he didn't know existed.

He returned to sit behind the easel and started again. The longer he laid his eyes on her, the more he couldn't stop doing so. There was a strange feeling he tried to comprehend, it was like his enthusiasm in art. Strong, undeniable, irresistible, addictive, intoxicating. Something that he could not forsake despite good senses, good judgment or logic. Something beyond his control. He never knew he would ever feel this way for her. He felt like he was drunk in an intoxication, it got him faded. Faded and forgotten everything. Insanely, it felt like this time was the only hours he lived. His heart no longer dead, no longer numb, like it had been resurrected. It felt something again at last.

Time passed too quickly. A few hours in one day was far too little, far too short. Soon he would no longer have the chance to see her. His paintbrush poised in the air when a thought occurred to him. He glanced at her over the easel. The paintbrush swept the textured canvas again after a brief moment, and his hand moved very, very slowly now.

With every ticking sound of the clock, Ava reminded herself that time would bring this torture to an end. She couldn't endure it any longer to be with him. He might be breathtaking in the facade, but he was simply insufferable. His arrogance, his quick temper, and his changing mood overwhelmed her. He had returned to his composure now, but who knew what was going to happen the next minute?

When all the hands on the clock pointed to the number twelve, she nearly jumped from the settee in pure excitement. Finally, she could walk away from this exasperating situation. She maintained her composure, sitting still as she spoke politely.

"I can't believe it's twelve o' clock now. Time really flies. Do you still need me to stay a little longer?"

He rose from the seat and collected the tools.

"No, you need not."

Just the answer she had expected. She stood up in great relief and walked to the commode where she settled her clothes.

"I'll see you tomorrow at the same time."

She halted at once and turned to him. Ashton never knew he would take a great pleasure in seeing the surprise look in her face.

"Tomorrow?"

Her eyes widened in an entirely amusing expression.

"But I think I just have to do this only for today..."

He wiped the clean wet head of the paintbrush with a small cloth after dipping it into a glass of water.

"Never say so."

She swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Is tomorrow the last time I have to come?"

"I'm afraid not. I'm still working on the preliminaries. I'm going to make this one a realism painting. It will definitely take more time."

From the corner of his eye, he could see her frozen in her feet. Several seconds passed in silence.

"All right, then. How long will it take to finish the painting?"

"A week, I suppose."

"A week?!!!"

She couldn't help a hint of reluctance escape her voice.

"But I..."

He raised his gaze and looked at her now.

"When you said you accepted my term, I thought you have committed yourself."

"I have..."

But she didn't expect it to be alone with him for hours in a private situation for a bloody full week.

He sat on the stool again and crossed his arms. Ava thought he was going to show his dissatisfaction, but his expression was surprisingly neutral.

"If you quit now, what I've been starting would be in vain. This painting would forever remain unfinished."

He said it in inoffensive tone and this time he didn't look threatening or intimidating at all.

"Anyway, I will not insist if you don't want to. Looks like now 'anything' is too much of a burden to you."

"No, of course not. I'll never see it as a burden."

She responded quickly. She didn't want to disappoint anyone by leaving in the middle of something she had been engaged to, especially when she had already given her words. Though, she had learned that next time she had to be more careful in her choice of words. It was a promise, and she never broke her promise. She took a deep breath. Only six more days to go, perhaps it wouldn't be as bad as she thought.

"I'll not quit until you finish the painting, I'll do my part until it's done.