Artist's Bride Read online

  Artist’s Bride

  Owning Her Curves Book 1

  Alexa Blue

  Contents

  1. Harry

  2. Bree

  3. Harry

  4. Bree

  5. Harry

  6. Bree

  7. Harry

  8. Bree

  9. Harry

  10. Bree

  11. Harry

  12. Bree

  13. Harry

  14. Bree

  15. Harry

  16. Bree

  17. Harry

  18. Bree

  Epilogue

  Mailing List

  Also by Alexa Blue

  Connect with Alexa Blue

  1

  Harry

  Shit, this weather feels extra hot today. Feeling slightly irritated with the heat, I take off my tie and loosen a few buttons to get some cool air on my skin. The icy cold beer I’m currently sipping on is not helping much either.

  I shouldn’t be here today, especially since I have a showing of my latest artwork tomorrow evening. I would typically be helping my staff prepare everything, which means working into the early hours of the morning.

  Matt changing his bachelor party date and venue at the last minute has now royally messed with my plans for tomorrow. Postponement for tomorrow was out of the question as tickets had already been sold out.

  Everything that goes into the planning of an event like mine had already been set in motion. Catering, and alcohol preparation is all set and done. The best I can do is hope that nothing goes wrong.

  The fact that I’m Matt’s best man does not help either. I could hardly not attend his bachelor party, especially since I’ve had to arrange it. I told him I’d only be able to participate for a couple of hours, and then it’s back to the studios for me.

  I’ve been trying to avoid the over-enthusiastic noise coming from the boys and strippers alike.

  People are dancing on the dance floor all around me, and I take another slug of my beer.

  I glance at my watch and let out a sigh. I’m going to have to have to sit it out for at least another 30 minutes.

  Deciding I might as well be entertained by the dancers while I wait, I pull up a chair at the bar and order another drink.

  A group of drunken men stand around on the dance floor. The shit’s going to be hitting the fan in any second now; I can recognize an out of control bunch of drunkards when I see them.

  I sip on my beer, counting down the minutes when I can take my leave. Gosh, I still need to pass the studio on my way home, just to make sure everything is still on schedule. Luckily, I had a small apartment built right next to my studio for instances like this. I might as well sleepover in there; it’s not like I have someone waiting for me at home. Just a big ol’ empty house that I basically just use for sleeping purposes, and am expensive storage facility for my cars. My busy lifestyle does not really allow me the luxury of a wife and kids—especially not with all the travelling that comes with managing my four studios.

  I must admit that lately, the thought of going to my empty house doesn’t bring me the same excitement it used to. Perhaps, it’s the almost thirty-eight-years thing, slowly creeping up on me, but all I see lately is just lonely, desperate people.

  Taking my phone out of my pocket, I check to see if there are any messages from my staff. Seeing none fills me with relief. It looks like everything’s on track.

  I glance at the message I received from my mom earlier this evening. She’s been through a lot these last couple of weeks, and I haven’t spoken to her in almost two weeks now. Still, I’m not really sure how to feel about this news.

  I will deal with that problem tomorrow.

  I send her a message to tell her I’ll call her in the morning. It’s way too noisy to make a phone call from this place.

  My thoughts are interrupted by loud whistles and catcalls coming from the group of drunken men on the dance floor. They really are a rowdy bunch.

  Some of the strippers that were at the bachelor parties have now wandered into the nightclub, drawing a lot of attention from the guys. The ladies appear to be taking it in their stride. One or two even joined the guys on the dance floor.

  2

  Bree

  Slamming the phone down, I pick up my half-empty glass of water, and fling it across the room.

  To hell with that woman! The woman in question is my so-called mother. That was honestly the last time I make any effort to keep in contact with her again.

  I’ll have to make my peace with the fact that she will never love nor accept me for who I am. I’m so done with seeking her approval. It seems like that’s all I’ve done my entire life.

  When are you going to learn? I ask myself as frustrated tears well up in my eyes, and roll down my cheeks.

  Furiously wiping them away, I start picking up the broken pieces of glass that’s now strewn across the wall of my office.

  My assistant rushes into my office, not sure what all the commotion is about.

  “Are you okay,” she asks, looking at the pieces of glasses on the floor in alarm. “What happened?”

  “I’m fine, Tanya. Just had to get some frustration out of my system, and that glass of water was the closest thing that I could find to throw,” I say ruefully.

  She looks at me with doubt in her eyes, as if I’m going to start going psycho in the office again.

  “I promise, I’m fine,” I reassure her once again. “Could you maybe get me a cup of strong, black coffee, please? Unfortunately, drinking on the job is out of the question; otherwise, I would ask you for a glass or two of wine,” I say with a wink.

  “No problem,” she says with a smile, “One cup of strong, black coffee coming right up.”

  Sitting at my desk a few minutes later, I’m feeling much calmer. Having cleaned up the mess I made, I’m now sipping on the coffee that my assistant had made for me, and really wishing it was a glass of wine. My mom always has that kind of effect on me.

  Gosh, if I keep letting my mom get to me I’ll need to join a twelve-step program—and this is for someone that hardly consumes alcohol.

  I’m replaying the conversation I had with my mom in my head. I hadn’t spoken to her in a couple of months. Sadly, it’s the norm for us. Being the daughter of a, world-famous, beautiful movie star, I grew up hardly ever seeing her. I’m the child she never wanted.

  She was always away shooting a movie in some exotic location. I was lucky if I received a few emails here and there. Even then, I got the impression it was done more out of courtesy than any kind of motherly love on her part.

  She insisted, from a young age, that I don’t call her mother.

  “It’s such an old-fashioned term,” was her explanation. “My name will do just fine.”

  Her eldest sister became my unofficial, adopted mother. I even called her mother. I woke up this morning with the thought that I wanted to hear my ‘official’ mother’s voice.

  Some thoughts should remain just that—a thought!

  It was the usual disaster I experience when we have a ‘conversation.’ Now, all I want is to have a few drinks and forget about the woman that birthed me.

  With that thought in mind, I pick up my phone and call Adrianna, one of my best friends.

  She answers my call on the second ring.

  “Hey there, how are you doing?” she asks.

  “Not great,” I reply, “I need some alcohol in my system tonight and to just let my hair down with some dancing. I Just had another fallout with the mother from hell. Some pain-numbing is desperately needed.”

  “Ahh… so sorry to hear that, sweetie. Of course, we can go out.” I can hear the pity in her voice because she knows the situation with my mom. We’ve been friends since I met h
er at varsity, and we meet up at least once a week to catch up.

  “Just a heads up. I just can’t stay out too late,” Adriana adds, “I’m writing exams this whole week. I’ll be with you for the moral support, honey, but I’m going to have to leave the drinking to you,” she says with a chuckle.

  “Aww, really?”

  “Yeah, I need my brain clear and sharp for those calculations tomorrow. Failing my finals is not an option. I already have a job lined up.”

  “No problem,” I reply. I’m just grateful that Adriana is at least willing to go out with me. The thought of going out by myself is not one I relish. I’ll take what I can get.

  We arrange to meet, choosing a club that’s not too out of the way for both of us.

  Hanging up my call with Adriana, I pack up at work and get ready to head on home.

  God knows, I’m looking forward to tonight. It’s been a long while since I’ve been out on the town. My version of ‘night out’ has been spent mostly at my office, working these last couple of months. I think I’m due a well-deserved night out.

  3

  Harry

  I’ve just ordered my last drink and signal the barman for my bill. The club has been filling up slowly, with crowds of men and women streaming in. The rowdy, drunk guys are getting louder by the minute. Them getting kicked out of the club is literally around the corner.

  The strippers, that had joined the drunken crowd previously, have also eventually decided to make themselves scarce around these guys.

  I hear another round of loud whistles and catcalls from the drunk bunch again. Expecting to see the rest of the strippers, I look in the direction they’re whistling and almost spill the beer I’m sipping on all over myself.

  I’m staring at the vision in front of me, completely mesmerized. Two beautiful, curvy women have just entered the club. One is a blonde, and the other, a redhead.

  My focus is drawn purely to the blonde. She wears a red dress that fits snug around her sexy, curvy hips. The front of her dress has a plunging low ‘V’ shape that gives just the right amount of cleavage. The sight of that cleavage is playing havoc with my dick. I can feel myself becoming hard.

  Fuck, she’s mine.

  That is the thought that subconsciously slips into my mind.

  The blonde has the sensual beauty of an old school movie star. Marilyn Monroe could have been her mother. The redhead is a knockout too, but my cock is reacting to my blonde bombshell.

  I’m sitting, transfixed, just staring at her. I can’t seem to help myself.

  “Sir, excuse me, sir, don’t forget your card.” The barman’s voice brings me back to reality. Shaking my head as if I’m in a trance, I lean over, and take my card from him.

  I can see she’s uncomfortable with the whistles and catcalls they are getting from the group of drunk men. She’s fiddling with her dress, trying to cover the little cleavage that’s exposed.

  Those bastards had better watch themselves. If they go near my woman, the shit will be hitting the fan much sooner than expected!

  The two women get seated a few seats away from me and order drinks.

  Deciding to stay a bit longer, I order another drink. No way am I leaving without getting my blond goddess’ details.

  Shit! I’m starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, with my steadily rising dick. Introducing yourself to a woman with a major hardon is generally not the right way to meet a woman. Not unless you’re a pervert!

  Taking my jacket off, I casually place it over my legs, trying to hide my body’s reaction to my blonde beauty. The barman is starting to look at me sideways too; I hope he hasn’t noticed anything.

  I’m studying her as she sips on her glass of wine. She wears frameless, clear spectacles that make her look like a sexy school teacher. Her plump, kissable, mouth displays a set of perfectly white teeth when she smiles.

  That shade of red lipstick on her lips is driving me crazy. I can visualize her full lips on my cock, while I watch her sucking me off. My dick has grown to such an uncomfortable size, and I try adjusting myself inconspicuously.

  Okay, that barman has definitely noticed now. Shit!

  I would prefer not to get arrested for public indecency. That will make one hell of a headliner in the news tomorrow.

  I can see it in my head already,

  ‘Famous painter arrested for walking around with a boner in a club.’

  It’s not a story the patrons attending my show tomorrow would appreciate, I’m sure. I let out a soft chuckle at the thought.

  Deciding to focus my attention elsewhere, I take another sip of beer. I’m hoping that by not looking in the blonde’s direction for a few minutes, I can get my raging-schoolboy-hormones under control. Hopefully, my dick will follow suit and calm down.

  Feeling a bit better a few minutes later, I sneak a look in their direction again. The two women appear to be deep in conversation.

  It looks like the topic of discussion is not a happy one. My goldilocks is very animated, and there’s a hint of sadness on her face. Her friend has her arm around her and rubs her back in a consoling manner. I hate the thought that anyone can make my woman feel sad.

  She looks up and catches me staring at her.

  Fuck, she’s even more gorgeous, now that I can see her face to face. She looks at me with a hesitant smile and then averts her eyes.

  I could’ve sworn she was blushing. She plays with her hair and tucks it behind her ears, not hiding her face anymore. I’m glad we finally made eye contact, now to plan my next move.

  I signal the barman and ask him to refill their drinks on my tab.

  The barman places the drinks in front of the women, pointing in my direction to indicate that I bought them. Both women look in my direction and smile, mouthing a silent, “thank you.”

  I raise my glass in their direction, acknowledging the thanks. Goldilocks looks like she’s about to get off her chair, unaware that one of the drunken men has walked up to her. She’s about to turn around, when she is stopped in her tracks by the drunken man trying to put his hand down the front of her dress.

  I see red instantaneously.

  4

  Bree

  I had decided, on my way home from work already, that I am going to wear a sexy little dress tonight. Since mommy dearest always implies I am too fat for any man to like me, what do I have to lose?

  Now, as we are entering the bar in this nightclub, I am starting to regret my choice of clothing. Unwanted attention from a bunch of drunken assholes is the last thing I need tonight.

  The idea was to go out for a couple of hours, and relax while sipping on a cocktail or two. Attracting unwanted whistles from drunk men was not on my agenda.

  Walking towards our seats, I briefly notice a very handsome man staring in what I think is our direction.

  I hardly have time to get a proper look at him in our haste to get seated and hopefully just get away from the rowdy, whistling crowd.

  Adriana opted to dress very comfortably. She’s wearing jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. That will at least offer some protection in case these characters become touchy-feely.

  I, on the other hand, am a bit screwed with my sexy dress and the hint of cleavage I have on display. This dress will not offer much protection against wandering hands.

  ‘Thanks, mom, for getting me in this predicament,’ I curse under my breath. Your damn fault I had to go out into the streets tonight. If anything happens to me tonight, it’s on you!

  I’m pulling my dress down, attempting to lengthen it, all in the vain hopes of not drawing anymore unwanted attention to myself.

  Glancing at this crowd, I have the uncomfortable feeling it’s too late.

  We order our drinks, and I start telling Adriana about my latest fight with my mom.

  “Can you believe the nerve of that woman? I call her to find out how she’s doing. Instead of asking me the same, she cuts me off with, ‘Have you lost any weight yet, sweetie? I want to introduce you to someone.’ Th
e guy is some up and coming young actor she knows. She will, however, only introduce him to me if I lost a couple of pounds. After being speechless for a few seconds, I told her exactly what she can go do with her young actor. He’s probably one of her leftover men.”

  Reliving our conversation makes me feel upset all over again. Wiping away a stray tear, our conversation is interrupted by the barman bringing us new drinks. He says it’s with compliments from the good-looking guy I saw earlier.

  I turn towards the guy that’s now looking in our direction with a broad smile.

  Shit, he is hot.

  I can’t believe he’s paying attention to us. I feel my pulse quickening.

  His black, wavy hair falls just past his shoulders. Green eyes, the color of the ocean, are currently looking at me with a huge grin. He’s built like he spends a reasonable amount of time in the gym. Even though he’s seated, I can gauge he’s a very tall man.

  The big guy lifts his glass in greeting, giving a slight nod with his head. We do likewise.

  “That’s one hot man,” I tell Adriana once he looks away.

  “Definitely some eye candy,” she agrees, grinning at me. “And what’s more, I think he likes you.”

  “He’s been staring at you since we walked in,” Adriana adds.

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” God, he is gorgeous. “Do you think I should go and thank him personally for our drinks?”

  “I dare you,” she challenges me, giggling. She knows I will never resist a challenge.