5
"Turn around and look at me," he commands. "I need to get a good view of the palette I'm starting with."
Feeling a little nervous, I comply with his request.
He stoops down and takes his time, studying me closely. The tiniest frown lines appear on his forehead when something during his intense perusal of my features seems to displease him. Somehow the minute wrinkles manage to make him look even more handsome.
"What's wrong?" I ask him.
"Are you completely relaxed?" He answers my question with one of his own.
"Of course," I tell him. "Your magic hands just made me feel as pliable as a warm bowl of wax."
I had anticipated at least a grin from my response to his query. Instead, his brow furrows further. "I have some bad news for you," he finally divulges.
Feeling overly anxious abo
