Severine felt her heart do a strange, violent flip in her chest.
She stared fixedly at the canvas. Her eyes were turning hazy as Killian's deep, rhythmic breathing warmed the sensitive skin at the side of her neck.
Cute? He genuinely thought the distorted, jaggedly painted black creature she had explicitly drawn to symbolize herself was cute?
"Killian, it's supposed to be an evil thing," she echoed. Her voice had a faint, incredulous tremor that she couldn't entirely hide. "A shadow trying to corrupt the white swan."
That was exactly what Isabella had told her.
Killian let out a low, vibrating rumble of a laugh against her shoulder. His arms tightened around her waist just enough to pull her back flush against his chest so he could snuggle her better.
"Is that how it appears in your eyes?" he asked, his tone sounding genuinely curious.
It wasn't just about what she saw, though. That interpretation was exactly what Isabella, a highly revered art critic, had drilled into her.
