Chapter Seven
Roelf ignored me so thoroughly during my Monday class session that I felt foolish approaching him. But still, the drive to complete my assignment was firm. As much as I’d balked, as much as Jackson’s intolerable demand offended me, as much as I hated the idea of offering myself to the arrogant artist, a crude desire seemed to flower in me during the long night.
I woke at dawn, sweating. Knowing that I couldn’t fall back to sleep, I got up and toyed with my latest work of art. Perhaps the disquiet in me would be apt fuel for a new artistic vision. I was pleased enough after two hours of painting to want to continue for the remainder of the morning. But that would mean I’d miss Roelf’s class. Jackson would consider it just a feeble excuse to avoid his orders. Excuses for di
