heard her alarm blaring. For just a moment before she shimmered out of view, she turned her face up to look at him, the intense green eyes drinking him in for a moment before she woke.
Reaching for her as she began to turn to mist, Kristof cursed as his hand went through her. “Damn it,” he whispered as he just stared at the bright green of her eyes. Turning he looked around and found nothing but a fading light.
Rolling over she slapped her hand to the alarm. “Gods what a vivid dream.” She could still smell him against her skin, it was more than a little strange, to say the least. “I seriously need to see a shrink, who could have thought I would be attracted to him, a man that has never met me and hates my guts?” she was mumbling as she tripped her way to the shower.
Waking Kristof cursed a vivid and descriptive blue streak as he pushed his hands through his hair. Rolling over he sat up and stared blankly at the wall. “Who the hell are you?” he whispered to the silence of his home. Getting up he headed for the shower, he had to do something, anything to get his mind off of her, so he’d go to work.
She stood in her shower, the spray pelting down on her roughly and her eyes closed with head bent. “How can I smell like him?” she whispered once more, unable to believe that she had come out of her dream smelling like him, how was it possible? Grabbing the soap she got the cloth nice and sudsy before starting to move it over her body, scrubbing at the skin so that she could possibly lose the scent of him, the smell that even made her nipples pucker in the light of day.
Climbing into his shower Kris started it and breathed in sharply when a hint of her scent tickled his nose. It was that strange dual scent, a powerful one overlaying a secondary, softer scent. He’d swear that the top note was false, a camouflage hiding all of her. Pressing his hands to the shower as the steam began to rise, he slowly inhaled, his eyes drifting shut as he tried to sort through the scents pouring from his flesh.
“God, I must be a masochist to have the hots for someone who hates me and thinks that my work is ‘subpar.’” Although even she had to admit that the work he was judging was work she wouldn’t have submitted but was stolen from her by the board to try to push through and get approved. “I think that maybe it’s time for me to find a new line of work.” Just the thought of how they had more than once taken material that wasn’t complete or ready was enough to make her blood boil.
It was some time later as she sat in her living room with a cup of hot chocolate in her hands and only a robe on her body that she sat, looking at the painting. This one she was keeping. This wasn’t one that was going to be donated to the children’s hospital for auction, no this one was hers. Warsaw C. would just have to give another painting to be auctioned.
Stepping from the shower Kristof dried slowly as his mind replayed the dream, picking at everything, trying to find a clue. The green eyes, eyes she’d hidden until the very end were a huge clue. But how many women had green eyes? He had to admit, not many would have a green that vibrant, hers were unique. Tossing the towel he went to get dressed before grabbing coffee and heading out the door, he had things to do and mooning over a mate that wouldn’t reveal herself was just getting him annoyed again.
She had to grin, everyone in the art world thought that Warsaw C. was a man, thought that the paintings he created were some of the best out of the last four or five generations of new artists, she wondered however how they would feel if they knew that not only was he not a he but that she was a bio-chemist?
Grabbing his mail as he went to his car, Kristof flipped through it, dropping the advertisements and other junk mail into the garbage bin that was out for collection that day. Pausing at the heavy cream-tinged paper he turned it over and broke the old-fashioned wax