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She couldn’t breathe.  Beom Sook had just asked her to spend all of tomorrow…alone…with him.

“Doing what?” she queried after a quiet moment spent grappling for her power of speech.

“Painting my portrait,” he murmured as he gazed down at her with a smile lighting up his glorious jade eyes.

“Your portrait?” she echoed faintly.

“Mm-hmm.  Would you?  Please?  My mother’s birthday is in a few weeks.  And I would like to give her my portrait as a gift.”

“Oh.”  Why did she feel so deflated?  “Sure.  I’d be happy to create such a present for her special day.”

“I will, of course, pay you,” he added, grinning.

Again, her heart fell.

He didn’t even consider her a good enough friend to ask this of her as a favor?  And not as a commission?

“That’s really not necessary, Beom Sook.”

“But if I don’t pay you for it, it won’t be from me.  But from you,” he pointed out logically.

“Ah, I see.  All right.”  She considered him for a moment before briskly declaring, “You may pay for the children’s meals for a full month then.”

“Such a high price!” he exclaimed playfully.

She misread the tone of his voice.  “Is it too much?”

“I shall pay for two months of the children’s meals,” he offered magnanimously.

She gasped.  “What?”  Her eyes grew wide as she stared up at him.

And he found himself resisting the urge to tug her into his arms and kiss her silly.  He blinked rapidly several times to dispel the image now emblazoned upon his consciousness.  But all those fluttering eyelashes did nothing for his inner vision.  Or the desire that he felt rising within him.  So he cleared his throat and turned away from her.

“But that is surely too much!  It will take me several hours to do your portrait justice.  But I hardly think it’s worth that many meals.”

He turned back towards her.  “Ah, but our children must eat, my dear,” he murmured tenderly as his eyes caressed her.

Our children must eat, my dear.

His words flooded her with an odd desire.  And a secret warmth.  And a bitter longing.

She pivoted away from him as her eyes instantly flooded with tears.  The man was far too good at tugging on her heartstrings.  She really must learn how to erect better walls against him.  His gentleness kept undoing her.  Making her crave things from him which he was unwilling – and unable – to give her.

“Very well.  Tomorrow we will visit my home.  And I will paint your portrait.  For your mother.”  She bent her lips into a curve.

But as he stepped closer to her and glanced down at her face, he wondered why that smile didn’t reach her eyes.