The Sculptor's Seduction (The Gentlemen's Guild Book 2) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  The Painter’s Passion – Chapter 1

  The Sculptor’s Seduction

  The Gentlemen’s Guild, Book 2

  By Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  Copyright2017 for Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  All rights reserved.

  This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United Stated of America copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For My Husband –

  Thank you for your endless and enduring love. So much of this would have been impossible without you.

  For My Friends and Family –

  Thank you for supporting me and loving me in everything that I do.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Other Works by Rebecca Sharp

  The Painter’s Passion – Chapter 1

  “I saw the angel in the marble and I carved until I set him free.”

  - Michelangelo

  Chapter 1

  This was not a good idea, Sloane thought as he took a generous sip of the scotch in front of him, watching his two best friends, Tristan and Pierce, bullshit each other across the bar table they were sitting at. Boy, were they a sight, he thought. Tailored suits and striking good looks, the three of them commanded the room just like they commanded their respective business industries.

  To an outsider, they looked like three wealthy businessmen out for a drink after work. And they were. But, that’s not all they were. Collectively, they also made up the Gentlemen’s Guild – world-renowned, anonymous artists called upon by museums around the world because of their unsurpassable skills to restore and replicate priceless masterpieces. To the public, they were famous for their once-a-year exhibits of incredibly emotional – and most times – erotic artworks auctioned off for charity. Their fans sought after them for their skills – both artistic and pleasurable; women sought, begged, and fought to sit for them… and sleep with them. And they got to pursue their love of art, keeping it entirely separate from their successful business personas. It wasn’t a bad gig.

  It was changing now, though.

  Sloane sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. That’s why they were out tonight celebrating; Tristan was getting married. He laughed at the thought, still finding it hard to believe. Three months ago, Tristan had fallen in love with Elsa Carter and decided that he needed to scale back certain aspects of his participation in the Guild – mostly in their annual exhibits. He’d seen it coming from the second he’d learned that Tristan had punched Pierce in the face over Ellie.

  It wasn’t a big deal, mostly because it didn’t affect him. The Guild would still continue, their work would still continue, he would still continue. They thought they were down a man for their next exhibit when their business manager, Morgan Lane, had offered to auction off one of his photographs in Tristan’s place; all was again right with the world.

  Sloane took another long sip of the scotch; this was not a good idea.

  He hardly ever drank. He’d held out well for most of the night tonight, but about half an hour ago, he’d caved into the need to distance himself from reality. Celebrating with Tristan and hearing the way he talked about his fiancé had Sloane on edge – which was saying a lot because he was the calm one; he was the rational and thoughtful one; he was the one that never let anything or anyone get under his skin.

  A lesson he’d learned the hard way.

  And it was why he normally stayed away from alcohol; he didn’t like to take chances with his restraint. Tonight though, hearing the love Tristan had for Ellie made him ache for that type of connection. And burning away that uncomfortable realization was more important at the moment than making sure he retained complete control over all of his emotions.

  “Hey, Sloane – you in there, bud?” Tristan asked, playfully punching his arm and pulling him from his somber thoughts.

  “Of course,” he replied with a smile. “Just enjoying the show.”

  “What’s up with you, Sloane?” Pierce asked, his friend’s black eyes staring him down for a moment making Sloane wary with what would come out of his mouth next.

  The waiter arrived with a second glass of murky liquor for Pierce, sparing Sloane from further dissection by those dark depths.

  “You’ve been unusually quiet and distant lately. Worried about the next exhibit? Or do you just need to get laid?” He laughed at his own joke, stirring the straw in the drink before taking his first sip. “I think there are some nice-looking pieces right behind you. If you’re interested, I can make introductions for us.” Pierce’s gaze passed briefly over him, focusing on – and winking at – what Sloane was sure were some very attractive women sitting at the bar behind him. Pierce’s entire body language changed; every movement was calculated to entice the fine members of the opposite sex that he’d set his sights on.

  Sometimes – most times – Pierce was such an ass.

  “Screw you. No, I’m not worried, just busy trying to find a model.” He set his glass down on the bar table as nonchalantly as possible, his fingers turning it slowly in circles as he tried to distance himself from the smooth, warm analgesic that was sure to screw with his sensibilities.

  “Ahh, so you are trying to get laid!” Pierce exclaimed, deciding that he knew what must be going on.

  Sloane’s mouth thinned in annoyance before he found his glass back up at his lips, taking another sip of the scotch. It was a better response than trying to debate with Pierce – he’d never let his idea go.

  “The Guild’s first exhibit without me,” Tristan sighed, trying to redirect the conve
rsation.

  Sloane took one look at his friend and said matter-of-factly, “You’re not upset.”

  Because he wasn’t; Tristan was in love – he could give two shits about the exhibit and it was written all over his face.

  “C’mon man,” Tristan replied, annoyed that he’d called him out. “Ah, fuck it. There’s no use denying it. I’m not upset, although I feel like I should be. I started all of this and yeah, I know I’m still part of the gang or whatever, but it’s just weird to see the exhibits continuing on without me.”

  “Well, that’s your own fucking fault – falling in love and shit. I told you it was the worst idea. Seriously, why would you want to give this up?” Pierce asked in disbelief. He made a show of unbuttoning his suit jacket and relaxing back against the barstool as he sent the women sitting behind Sloane a devilish grin and a stare that said he was very interested in whatever they had to offer.

  “You’re such an ass,” Tristan said only half-heartedly, knowing that somewhere in the black hole of his chest, Pierce knew why; he knew why and it was the reason he’d helped Tristan win Ellie back. But, Tristan wasn’t going to bring that up now.

  A giant smile lit up Pierce’s face. “Thanks.” Yes, Pierce always took that as a compliment.

  Sloane just sat silently watching their banter back and forth. His eyes carefully noting every look that Pierce sent the women behind him, every movement that he directed towards them. Pierce was only half participating in the conversation; his eyes and body were conducting a completely separate dialogue with his female prey. And he was being over-the-top about it – the way he licked his lips and shifted in his seat; he wanted them to know just how much he wanted them. Sloane hated when he was like that, especially at a nice bar like the Roof. Pierce needed to save that skeevy shit for wherever he picked up his women that were willing to do anything.

  “Yeah, so it’s you, Morgan, and me now, huh?” Pierce moved on, trying to bring Sloane back into the conversation.

  “Looks that way,” Sloane agreed, trying to focus on his partial distraction with the look of utter bliss on Tristan’s face. The mixture of jealousy and fear still churning in the pit of his stomach; jealousy because he wanted to feel that way about someone, but more fear at what he might do to hurt that person.

  Just like his father had done to his mom.

  He chugged the rest of his drink when that thought sprung into his mind; he couldn’t go there. He slammed the empty glass back down on the table in front of him as though it had harmed him in some way, startling both of his friends with the force of his action.

  “Seriously, Sloane, you’re being more lame than usual,” Pierce spat. “So, you need to get laid—I mean you need to find a model. I have an idea…”

  Those words were always the beginning of the end.

  “No,” was Sloane’s automatic terse response. He no longer had the luxury of letting the responsibility of denying Pierce fall on Tristan’s shoulders; normally, that’s what he would do because Tristan was in charge. With Tristan no longer so involved and no longer Pierce’s friendly rival – or target – it looked like Sloane couldn’t pretend to be a pushover anymore. Sloane was now in the direct center of his scheming friend’s crosshairs.

  “Why?” Pierce asked sharply. His black eyes darkened, clashing with the bright, light blue of Sloane’s. Sloane could see his body tensing, no longer the relaxed Casanova who was sitting and entertaining himself at everyone else’s expense. Now, Pierce was irritated because Sloane was ruining his fun.

  “Because your ideas never work out for anyone but yourself.” His clipped response caused Pierce’s upper lip to twitch in annoyance. But it only lasted a second before he recaptured all the seriousness that had infected his body and he quickly replaced it with the careless amusement that fueled him.

  As the scheming smile slowly spread over his face, Sloane knew he had said too much; he had pushed just a little too far. There was no way he was escaping whatever diversion Pierce was devising in that devilish mind of his.

  “That is so fucking not true!” Pierce exclaimed in mock offense even though that dark smile remained perfectly present on his face. “Just look at Tristan here, happily in love. Auctioning off his mom’s portrait? My idea. Signing up for the Met competition? My idea. Look how well those ideas turned out.”

  Tristan began to choke on his drink at the ridiculousness of Pierce’s assertions. While true, technically, ‘his ideas’ had also almost cost Tristan not only the portrait he did of his mother before she died, but also the love of his life.

  “What do you want from me, Pierce?” Sloane asked in exasperation. Maybe, it would be easier to just hear the asshole’s idea and figure out a way to deal with it, than to fight for hours trying to prevent the inevitable.

  “How about,” he began, winking at the women behind Sloane one more time, “you let me help you find a model.” A sly smile crept over his face, still staring at the women instead of the person he was actually talking to.

  “No,” Sloane refused again. “Do I interfere with your artistic process? No. I have my own criteria that I look for. You’re crossing a line, Pierce.”

  God only knows what type of woman Pierce would choose.

  “What? Don’t think you’re talented enough to sculpt just anyone?” Pierce taunted him.

  Sloane bit back an uncharacteristic curse. His body tightened in anger, in the need to retaliate. He felt the fingers on his left hand tapping rapidly on the fine cotton of his pants as his irritation rose; his jaw muscle vibrating on the side of his face in tension. This is what happened when he drank, even just a little.

  Restrain yourself; control yourself, Sloane.

  His eyes shut as he let out a long exhale, forcing himself to relax and stay focused, forcing himself to not let his emotions overtake him.

  He could sculpt anyone, but that wasn’t the point. The point… the problem… was that Pierce wasn’t going to let this go if he didn’t agree in some sort of fashion. “I’ll tell you what – you set up an audition, select a few models, and then I will choose from them…” He trailed off; his voice was a hollow mix of frustration and resignation.

  “C’mon! Don’t be such a shit about it.” Pierce downed the rest of whatever mix of liquor had filled his glass. “It’ll be fun. You know I always find the good ones,” Pierce replied. Sloane watched in disbelief as Pierce nodded his head back, a signal for the women he’d been eyeing up that they were welcome to come over to the table. “But, we aren’t waiting. The audition is now and here come your options.” To prove his point, he extended his hand to the approaching females as his smile grew even larger.

  Give the man an inch and he’ll take a mile.

  Sloane gritted his teeth; he shouldn’t have agreed to this. Pierce didn’t even wait ten seconds before taking Sloane’s acquiescence and overextending it beyond what Sloane had envisioned – what he considered an acceptable compromise to get the target off his back.

  Sloane kept his chilling ice-blue stare locked on Pierce, as if he could freeze the self-satisfied smile off of the asshole’s face. Too bad Pierce’s attention was rapidly being diverted elsewhere that he barely took stock of the coldness in Sloane’s expression.

  There were two of them – not that he’d turned his head to see – but hearing their voices as they approached told him that Pierce was giving him two options to choose from. He hadn’t been able to see them before since they’d been sitting directly behind him, which was fine with him; he had no interest in seeing them or their interaction with Pierce. But now, he was going to have to pay attention. Unless he backed out of this juvenile charade. Pierce’s gaze caught his at that second, eyebrows raised as his smile shifted into a smirk as if to say ‘I dare you.’

  No, he couldn’t back out now. It would only make it worse. Plus, it was only one sculpture… how hard could it be?

  Sloane took a deep breath just as the first woman entered his view. Shit. He felt like he’d just been kicked in the
chest, causing him to choke and cough on the air he’d been relying on to keep him calm.

  The woman was stunning.

  There was no other word that he could think to describe her – just ‘stunning.’ Her incredibly long, black hair fell in soft curls down to her lower back. Her body was the type that most men dreamt about – large breasts, slender waist, generous hips, and incredibly long legs; and what she was wearing emphasized all of those things. Her low-cut dress laced up the front to reveal her generous cleavage, while the rest of the fabric was molded to her hips and thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination.

  The way she walked only accentuated his inability to breathe. No, she wasn’t walking – she was floating like an angel. She moved so gracefully those last few feet over to Pierce that it looked like she was gliding through the air. Her head remained perfectly level as her hips swayed enticingly as they carried her to her destination by his friend’s side. The way she moved was a stark contrast to her appearance; her beauty was jolting and her attire even more sensually shocking, yet her posture was agile and elegant.

  Gracefully stunning – the combination was deadly as sin.

  Sloane shifted in his seat, trying to regain his breath and alleviate the uncomfortable erection she’d caused.

  Shit, he was usually so much better at controlling his reactions than this.

  “You alright there, hun?” The vixen turned her head to ask him, her incredibly full, red lips moving enticingly over the words. Her warm, seductive voice flowing over him like molasses, luring him into her sinful sweetness. Her smile faltered for just a second as she caught his gaze, struck by his unbelievably clear-blue eyes; they were a color that caused most people to do a double-take. She quickly tore her stare from his, looking him up and down instead, as if she knew that his cough wasn’t the only thing choking him.

  Sloane watched as a devious glint returned to Pierce’s face, seeing his reaction to this woman.

  Shit.

  “Oh, he’s perfectly fine.” Pierce assured the woman, his own eyes feasting on the sight before them. Sloane shot his friend a deadly look; he was capable of answering her himself. “What’s your name?” Pierce asked, completely ignoring Sloane at this point.