Epilogue
THREE MONTHS LATER…
Bella looked down at the message from Chase on her phone as the cabbie turned a corner, his head, and improbably, an arm, half out the window to yell at a cyclist, a pedestrian and a child all in one go.
The summer heat was building hard and fast in New York and as a consequence everyone was out on the streets dressed in as few items of clothing as possible. A part of her yearned to head back Upstate, to feel the cool breeze and shaded trees of the forests by her parents’ house, knowing that Chase would love it up there, but work had kept them both in New York for the last few months.
Meet me at the studio?
She reread the message again. Chase had been… not secretive about his work, but definitely private and she understood. It was so important that he be allowed to experiment and play with his creativity without the fear of any kind of critical eye. Not that hers would have been critical. But he’d needed to figure out what he liked and wanted from his art before he thought of anyone else. He deserved that.
And if she were honest, she’d been kept so busy by the new gallery director from Sweden, that she’d barely had time herself. The twelve-month placements for visiting artists to step into the lead role at the Nayak had been a great idea – and it still was – but it meant a lot of scrabbling to catch up, to adapt to different personalities and wants and needs. But it had cemented her and Maurice’s relationship more than anything else.
‘Don’t be silly,’ Chase had said, laughing whenever she’d complained about it, ‘you love every minute of it.’
And he was right.
She’d really found her feet – when she wasn’t being distracted by the competing roles of trying to save the gallery and pranking the current director – in a role that incorporated all the things she loved – art, communication, plans. And perhaps just a little bit of high-level manipulation.
The cab pulled into the alley beside the studio. She paid and got out, checking her phone one more time before she went in to see a picture from Paige on the WhatsApp group of her, Olly and Casper – the dog that had adopted them, rather than the other way round. Hearts and ‘aww’s had followed from the others and Bella smiled, delighted that Paige had found her happiness with a man who loved her as much as she deserved.
She love bombed the message with more emojis than strictly necessary.
If the girls had been amazing before, they’d been incredible in the last few months. The fast friendship had turned into something more. Ride or die best friends who had turned into a family she couldn’t bear to think of living without.
Her parents and sister had been happy for her and Chase, and for her new job, but the girls? They’d been thrilled, they’d championed, screamed and cried their fierce support of her, and it had just made everything incredible.
She and Astrid were meeting up soon – Bella finally agreeing to a yoga class that didn’t require losing half her body weight in sweat, on the proviso that they went for cupcakes afterwards. (Red velvet for Bella and fondant fancies for Astrid.)
She’d caught up with Sienna just the other night, meeting her ‘sort of’ step-daughter, Melanie, over the small phone screen, the young teenager’s smiling face shining full of love for Si which was a delight to see. But she ached to see her friends in real life.
Which, of course, she would do because in just a few months’ time the entire Karma Club would all be meeting up for what would be, if she and Paige had anything to do with it, the most amazing wedding anyone had ever seen!
Talk of weddings no longer hurt so much. Not now. Olly, Bella truly believed, had always meant to be with Paige. And she… well, she had found a man she’d not have even been able to dream of, but one who was perfect for her in every single way.
After firing off a very quick message to Paige about possible activities for the wedding, Bella slipped her phone into her bag beside the copy of her new book.
First Sun Tzu, and now Machiavelli? You’re the only woman I know who’d have political treaties on the same bedside table as erotic romances.
She laughed every time she thought of Chase’s reaction to seeing it.
So it was that when he appeared in the doorway, he found her with a smile on her lips full of heat and affection.
‘Mr Miller,’ she said, a tease in her tone. ‘How kind of you to make time for me in your busy schedule.’
‘Ms Carmichael, so good of you to come,’ he said, his tongue in his cheek. ‘If you would?’
She eyed the dark strip of silk in his hands, the blindfold making her blush almost instinctively now, not that she thought that that was what she was here for this time.
Turning, she allowed him to tie the silk over her eyes and let him guide her towards the entrance of the studio. She didn’t need to ask him questions, or to know what was going on, because she trusted him. She trusted that this was what he needed or wanted and she would happily give that to him if it was within her power to do so because she loved him utterly and completely.
He paused on the threshold of the studio, and she felt him turn to face her. She raised her face to where she imagined him to be and pulse points around her body throbbed in anticipation. His lips claimed hers, gentle, but probing, slow, but carnal just the same, his fingers flexing against her shoulder and throat.
He mmmd against her lips as he gently ended the kiss, and then laughed.
‘You taste like red velvet cake,’ he teased.
She shrugged a shoulder. ‘Maurice thought we needed a bit of a sugar boost to get through the afternoon.’
‘Maurice did, huh?’
‘Mmm hmm,’ she sounded, because if she didn’t use her words, it wasn’t technically a lie.
The sound of his knowing laughter skimmed over her as he led her into the space where he had spent an enormous amount of time over the last three months. And that time had been more than she could possibly ever have imagined.
She would never have guessed that getting to know Chase would mean getting to know herself too. That was the gift of their love. That it had made her life rich, full, and something joyous as she took the time to get to know her likes and dislikes, wants and wishes just as much as his. And together, it was an exciting, thrilling and adventurous journey she never wanted to end.
* * *
Chase brought Bella to stand in what she assumed was the centre of the studio, his heartbeat racing, despite how ludicrous it was to be nervous about this. But she would be the first person to see it. Perhaps the only person, depending on how he felt about it once she had. But still. It was the first piece he’d completed in nearly two years. Oh, he’d started hundreds of other projects and pieces, but this was the first one he felt was done. The first one that he was proud of.
‘Are you ready?’ he asked, not having to tell her what for, or explain himself. She knew him. All of him. The bits that he found hard to talk about and the bits that he was trying to change. And that she loved them was still a little surprising to him.
‘Always,’ Bella replied and he removed the blindfold and stood to where he could see her, not the painting he had finished yesterday. Because he wanted to see her .
Blinking in the light that was filling the space, she focused her attention on the huge canvas in front of her.
‘ Oh .’ The word fell from Bella’s lips as she walked closer to his painting, taking in the sheer size and magnitude of it.
Months before, he’d wondered what he’d see if she were to look at one of his paintings. And now as he watched a myriad expressions pass across her features, he was glad that it was this one. He was glad that he had waited. Because this piece was one that meant so much to him. More than all of his others combined.
Because this had been hard . He’d worked at it, tweaked and teased and pulled it, dragged it kicking and screaming onto the canvas and it had been worth the effort, worth the fight. Because of what he saw in Bella’s eyes as she turned to him, the sheen glistening like starlight.
‘It’s us ,’ she said with a gasp, her fingers pressed to her lips. ‘The girls.’
‘Yes,’ he said, hiding the twist of relief that she’d seen what he’d wanted her to see. It wasn’t figurative and not even remotely portraiture. But he’d hoped that it was expressive of the powerful forces that had brought Bella into his life.
The large whirlwind slash of burgundy for Paige, the powerful, eye-catching dark Prussian blue line merging how he felt about Astrid with a representation of her, which he knew that Astrid would understand. The circular weave of Sienna, more cerise than her namesake, but perfect for the woman he’d met several times now since that first fateful encounter at the pre-opening for the gallery.
And at the centre of it all, for him, was Bella, grey brushstrokes melting into gold, melting into white. Her power, her love, her passion, the sense of humour she was beginning to embrace, the strength of her self-acceptance and her acceptance of him , he’d poured everything about her into it.
‘It’s you,’ he said. ‘And everything that brought you to me.’
There were other paintings, not quite finished, for other things that he still struggled to find the words for. But he’d gone back to where it all started. He’d gone back to painting his feelings, just the way his mother had told him and the way he’d told little Joseph that day in the art gallery. And all his feelings… they were about her. And this was just the beginning, the story of how she had come into his life.
‘It’s incredible,’ she said, her gaze returning back to the painting, searching for and finding new things to see in it.
‘Yes. Incredible,’ he said, not taking his eyes off her for a single second, seeing all the wonder and fascination that he’d hoped for and more.
She turned back to him, love shimmering in her gaze and he couldn’t help himself. He closed the distance between them in short strides and they came together in a clash of tongues and teeth and beating hearts and searching hands.
His desire for her was endless and he backed her up against the table holding his art supplies, her body like fire – twisting and burning – beneath his fingers.
‘Christ, you undo me,’ he admitted, the confession raw on his throat.
She looked up at him, eyes serious, but bright, intent, passionate and her hands explored his body, pulling the shirt from his jeans, and placing her palms against his stomach, skin to skin.
She pressed forward to kiss him but he leaned back, not yet full enough of her beauty. He loved her flush and wanton. Bella Tempted . But that was a different painting, one he hadn’t even remotely finished exploring yet.
And as he bit back his smile, Bella whimpered a little.
‘Please,’ she all but begged.
It was the only time he’d ever let her do such a thing, because outside of this, he’d never let her beg for a single damn thing. He’d give her whatever it was she asked for and more. Oh, the power she had over him, if she only knew it.
‘Only,’ he said, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, ‘if you call me Daddy and tell me to?—’
His words were kissed from his lips before he could finish the sentence, and they fell together in a tumble of giddy laughter and frantic touches, melted hearts and hot words, and a deep abiding love that would come to define the rest of their lives together.
* * *