The Architect Becomes Her Ch. 01

I would like to thank both my editors for their wonderful workd and help. The sweet and charming MrWhiteTiger, and the smart alec, but very helpful autoplot. Without them, I might not have ever submitted this thing.

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She padded into the classroom, her black satin robe tight around her nude form. She glanced around the room and took in the students setting up and the professor shuffling papers on his desk. It was a normal class for the most part. Girls studiously set out their pencils, paper, and smudgers. The smaller group of guys eyed her with interest. She could always got those looks considering the type of modeling she was doing. Although some were actually there to advance their artistic studies, there were a few bold stares. Stares like those made her wonder why she modeled.

Suddenly her eyes were captured by an intense masculine gaze. Electric. She felt the jolt hit deep in her belly—the shockwaves rushed up her spine and she almost gasped out loud because the breathless feeling was so intense. The tingling sensation raised the hair along the nape of her neck, down her arms, and tightened her nipples. She ducked her head as she stepped up to the platform, before risking another glance. He was studying her, his gaze no longer on her face but contemplating the rest of her body, the only visible skin showing from mid calf down to bare feet. With his eyes averted from hers she studied him easily right back.

He was an older man, early-to-mid fifties with short cropped salt-and-pepper hair. His eyes were deep set, but expressive. His darker brows enhanced each facial expression. The man had a strong chin, a cultured mouth and a patrician nose, all signs of class. That, and the fact that his clothes were casually modest yet evidently very expensive, a loose fitting cream shirt and dark brown slacks which enhanced his slightly bronzed skin.

Money, class, stature were all written on his form and the way he moved. He didn't seem in a hurry as he studied her. He took his time, like he was savoring a fine painting. What a nice thought that was.

She sighed in pleasure as his eyes returned to hers. He gave a quick guilty smile then turned back to his tablet of paper, fiddling with some pencils. Well that was new, she thought. Normally men made her nervous and skittish and not the other way around. Men looked at her boldly most of the time and not with politeness. This one knew how to treat a lady. That faint boyish face made him look as if he'd been caught doing something naughty. She almost giggled.

Unfortunately or fortunately, she was facing away from this class today. She knelt on the soft chaise with her back facing the room and then proceeded to loosen her robe as Professor Sharp called the class to order. The object of the lesson was to study the play of light and shadow across the human body.

She slid the robe off her shoulders and let it pool around her hips so that only a faint suggestion of her buttocks could be seen. She half turned so that just the slight curve of one breast was visible to the class and arched her neck slightly, settling her palms in her lap. For the next hour she needed to sit as still as possible.

Thankfully she'd pulled her coppery blond hair into a simple French twist. A few loose tendrils had escaped and brushed the back of her neck and her left ear, softening what could have been considered a cold statue. The hairs made her look real, soft, and completely female.

She imagined the man's eyes roving over her pale skin as Professor Sharp discussed and directed the students' motions with pencil. Would he stare intensely, his brows furrowing, making deep creases in his forehead? Perhaps his look would be blank as he thought of where to start first on her form, the curve of her shoulder or the long smooth line of her back. Wherever he started, she wished she could watch, wished she could stare out towards the class, eyes following the movement of his pencil sketching on the paper.

She loved the soothing voice of Sharp and as usual the hypnotic tones of his voice lulled her senses till her mind drifted off. She floated away and her body relaxed slightly and changed the appearance of formidable marble to soft, sensual woman.

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He stared at her in wonder. Though he was often cynical in life, he couldn't deny she was a beauty with her long smooth lines and skin like a magnolia petal. Her coppery hair shone like a new penny. Her eyes: he wished he'd had a longer gaze into them. They were a green-blue color, or so he thought. She was too far away to see the detail.

She was young, perhaps in her late twenties, but then anyone ten years his junior was young. At first glance he'd thought her even younger. She had a fresh face, animated yet guarded. Her eyes had skittered away from his when he'd stared.

For some reason he had felt guilty for staring; after all she was just a model, simply this lesson's assignment: nothing more, nothing less. She was someone to admire and learn from. Men must stare at her all the time. With a body like that there was no doubt she got plenty of attention. No doubt there was a good chance much of it was unwanted.

Settling down in his stool he sighed, trying to listen to the professor as he held a tablet of cream paper and a charcoal pencil at the ready. The moment she slid the black robe off her shoulders his mouth went dry. The curve of her back was incredible. She knelt on a tan chaise, her body turned so he could just catch the sloping curve of one breast and a hint of a coral nipple. It was taut like a little pearl. Her head tilted regally, like a wood dryad, graceful and noble. With her hair pulled back that way he could see every curve and shadow. His fingers itched to begin as he listened to the professor discuss how to achieve the correct shadowing. He didn't really need to hear the directions; he knew what to do since he'd done this often enough to know. In fact he'd been drawing all his life but had never been able to capture a human form they way he wanted before this class. Architecture had been his profession. Drawing plans and ideas had given him artistic skills most dreamed of achieving. But it was a woman's warm body he wanted to draw; to be able to capture the graceful curves every woman had.

His hand flew across the paper as Professor Sharp finished his lecture. He ignored everyone around him, even when the professor made a comment about his progress. He was focused only on her. She sat like a statue without a single sigh or raise of the shoulders. He moved quickly drawing her basic form before beginning to fill in the shadows. He smoothed with his fingers, smudging and spreading the charcoal, reaching for a sharper, harder lead to develop the lines. Then he smudged the shadow of the cleft of her buttocks and slashed at the robe around her hips, making it darker and darker until it was black as night, the perfect frame for her pale skin. He cross hatched the background around her, not wanting any distractions from her perfect form, wanting nothing to take away from it all. It was a symphony of light and dark, smooth and hard.

When he finished, he blinked in surprise. He had been so concentrated on what he was doing he had failed to pay attention to the clock. Other students were picking up their pencils and putting them in cases while a few others still sketched in the last touches. Most were finished, their drawings put away in folders. He looked up at the chaise to see her stretch her arms above her head. She arched her back and bent her head back and forth. His eyes widened when she bent forward, the curve of her back bowing forward and more than a hint of her bottom visible. Arousal slammed through his body and he shifted uncomfortably as he imagined her like that on a bed with her arms stretched out in front of her, kneeling and sitting on her feet.

She sat back up, reached behind for the robe and pulled it up over her shoulders and belted it around her waist. Then, twisting around, she gazed out into the room and suddenly her eyes collided with his as if they were drawn there. He stared into them with an intensity that suddenly made her skin bloom with a bright pink. The color infused her cheeks with loveliness, spreading down her neck to the vee of the robe. She ducked her head, got up quickly and moved towards the door where she had entered the classroom.

He sighed and collected his pencils and paper. He was careful with the drawing, making sure it didn't get smudged as he placed it in the protective folder. He walked up to talk with Sharp.

"Well Hugh, you seemed focused today," said Sharp. "Lovely isn't she?"

Hugh smiled. "Yes she is. I'm curious, will she be back?"

Sharp laughed. "Subtle," he said sarcastically. "But yes, she will."

Hugh smiled again. "Well, then, I guess I'll see you at the next class, unless you plan on stopping by the house this weekend."

"Maybe, old friend, but I have some grading to do, so I don't know." Sharp grinned.

"Well feel free. I need to get going, but tell Ann I said hello." Hugh started walking backwards towards the door.

"Will do. See you later. Oh, and let me know if you want her number," he said slyly.

Hugh just groaned and banged out of the door. Sharp's laugh echoed behind.

He did want her number. He was tempted to wait around and see if she came out of the classroom, but decided that seemed too forward. Well, next time. John had said this wasn't the only time he would be seeing her. Hugh prayed it would be soon.