.struggled. The corporate world, he admitted, was not for him. He had always loved painting, and wished he’d been born a hundred years ago when he s...ill might have made a living as a painter. But he hardly even got the chance to sketch now, let alone paint.The white wine must have gone to my head, because I spoke without thinking. “You can paint me if you want. I’ve always wanted to be painted.”He’d looked at me. “I would like that. Is lonely for my hands without painting, my fingers feel. Drop-dead gorgeous, let me tell you (and this is coming from a man who doesn’t find fair-skinned women very appealing), but with the look of a warrior about her. If you saw this woman, you would know immediately that it was her based on my description.’ ‘Dresses in white…’ Asmana noted her own golden attire. ‘That’s it. All I need now is her name.’ Mahir’s gray eyes seemed to smile along with his mouth. ‘It’s a name I think you’ll remember,’ he began. ‘She goes by Valeria.’ ‘Valeria…’ Asmana. More

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