Beneath Beautiful Read Online Free

Everyone knew you when I showed them your picture on my phone.”
    “And they just told you where I lived?” Cassie glanced up and down the street as if everyone had betrayed her.
    “I have a way of asking nicely.”
    “You mean of getting what you want.” Cassie sounded suspicious.
    Cameron shrugged. “I find people like to give you what you want if you ask nicely.”
    Laurent brought her usual coffee over to the table. “Please, sit.” Cameron gestured. “If only for a minute.” He sat back down and smiled up at her. “It would be rude not to.”
    With a twist of her mouth, Cassie found herself sliding into the seat opposite him.
    Silence fell over the table for a moment or two. As the pair sipped their coffee, Cassie trying to ignore the many suggestions Jo had put into her mind. Eventually, she sat back in her seat, waiting for Cameron to make the next move. She was afraid if she tried, she might say something completely ridiculous, scare and bolt off again. Either that, or throw herself across the table, ripping her shirt open.
    Something was making her head spin. It could have been either the caffeine or the charisma.
    “I won't bother with chit-chat.” Cameron set his cup back down on its saucer. “I'll just put it out there.”
    “This is a public place, Mr. Callahan. You might get arrested if you just put it out there in your usual fashion.” Cassie couldn't help herself.
    Cameron chuckled, turning his cup in a slow clockwise circle. Suddenly he looked up, quite serious once more. “I came to see if you might be interested in sitting for me. When I saw you in Père Lachaise . . . I had an idea. I'm quite taken with it. To the point where I barely slept last night. I'd like to follow up on it, if I can. If you'll let me.”
    Cassie attempted to take this information in. As she did so, she remembered reading several bits and pieces yesterday evening about Cameron's work practices. About how he worked on one piece at a time, often entranced by it, thinking about almost nothing else until it was finished. And if it didn't meet his exceedingly high, perfectionist standard of what he thought it was going to be? Well, he threw it away at whatever cost. Sometimes this meant millions of dollars down the drain. He'd almost bankrupted one of his investors in his early days.
    “I gave you the inspiration to start creating something in particular?” Cassie sounded surprised when she finally spoke.
    “Yes. You sound as if you couldn't possibly believe me.”
    The truth was, it was difficult to believe. “I'm honored,” Cassie spoke again. “Or I am, unless the piece you have in mind is something along the lines of you, me, Théodore Géricault and things that paintbrushes should never be used for.”
    Cameron raised an eyebrow. “It's not, but would that be so bad? Do you think what I do is wrong?”
    “No, it's not that. I just don't fancy Théodore Géricault. Or his paintbrushes.”
    “ Trés amusement .”
    Cassie paused, trying to work out what she really thought about all of this. “I suppose I want to know why me? Not in a fishing-for-compliments sort of way, but in a what-you-saw kind of way.”
    Cameron considered her question. “It's not every day you see a woman sitting atop a two-hundred-year-old monument engrossed in a book about nineteenth century whaling. I don't want to sound like a stalker, but I watched you for some time before I approached you.”
    “Oh.” Cassie wasn't entirely sure what to make of this. Her eyes met his for a fraction too long before breaking away. “Is this a sex thing?”
    “I don't know.” He sounded bemused. “Would you like it to be?”
    Cassie fixed her gaze on the table, actually scared to look up in case he saw how very badly she would like to drag him back to the apartment right now. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of guessing this, she forced herself to count the cracks in the tiled tabletop and said nothing.
    “Despite what you hear, I