It was an hour later when the door to Maxwell's office had opened with a click.
"I apologise, Mr Russo," A feminine voice was heard before she appeared.
She was holding a wet umbrella in her hand and slightly panting as she moved ahead.
Her breast moved up and down each time she breathed heavily. And Callum could swear that it was not more than thirteen times.
Her hair covered in a wet scarf, wet dark tendrils brushing her face and neck. That snow coloured neck. Even the harsh sun of Maisean could not dare to tan it. It would be a sin to imagine her slender and exquisite neck not snow coloured.
He wondered if the pulse of her neck would pound against his mouth if he put his mouth there.
A gust of wind penetrated through the opened door and she trembled in the cold when he was feeling nothing but the hotness of a volcano.
Her conservative dress moved with the wind and a minty scent entered his nostrils, sending signals to his brain to crash right away.
The cross she wore around her neck caught his attention and he had an urge to dirty this good conservative girl.
Girl. She wasn't a girl from any angle.
Her curves were that of a woman. A woman made for a man like him.
He smiled at the trick of fate.
Didn't he just tell Nash that there was no woman made for him?
Dammit.
This angel was customized just for him.
She didn't look like a nun but an angel.
She wasn't the woman he would love to bury himself and forget about his sanity but the type of woman he would die to make his goddess and worship all his life.
Worship every second of his days and nights to come.
His gaze was just on the curve of her sinful hips and the gorgeous swell of her breasts and he had lost his senses.
What would happen when he would see what the face of the goddess even looked like?
Slowly, his gaze moved up and he beheld the sight of a magnificent face God had ever created.
She was a beauty worth starting battles for. If he was a king in ancient times and she was a forbidden price, he would have crossed the river of embers just to have her.
A devastating beauty.
Still, it wasn't her devastatingly beautiful face or sinful body that had flipped his world upside down.
It was those mismatched eyes.
One resembled frozen eyes.
And another an abyss. Once fallen could never return.
Those upturned-shaped eyes swept him off his feet.
Her eyes slowly fell on him. A look of shock, dare he say, passed in those magnificent eyes before they turned as calm as an unrippled lake.
She might know him and his identity. Then again, who didn't know him these days?
She might have seen his poster glued on a street wall or might be on television.
"Mr Facci?" He heard Maxwell calling his name.
Taking his eyes off her face, he shifted his gaze to give Maxwell his attention.
"This is Calli, the artist you were asking about," Maxwell said with a smile. Outwardly, he was smiling, inside he was trembling. This artist was not easy to deal with. It was already hard try asking her to auction her painting.
"And Calli, it's Mr Facci who purchased your painting at a high price," Maxwell said, gesturing to her not to screw this once in a lifetime chance.
The woman walked ahead, her gaze fixed on Callum. As she studied him from the side, her calm expression was replaced by a scowl. Those eyes he was fascinated with burned with fire.
"I have no intention talking with a man who had no decency to at least say sorry to a woman he had wronged," He heard a sombre voice oozing poison in the sweetest of the words.
And just like this, her voice was tattooed on the wall of his heart.
"Pardon?" Callum murmured with furrowed brows.
As if he could recognize her face, he paused. The smile in her eyes halted as he found a voice to say, "It's you."
The woman narrowed her eyes at him but didn't say anything. Instead, she folded her dirted arms over her breast, an aim to prevent her from cold but evidently failing badly.
"The woman that my car splashed dirty water on, " He then added with a tone indicating his regret.
"I hope Mr Russo will not call me for unnecessary business again," The woman said with narrowed eyes, expressing her dissatisfaction with the outcome of the situation.
She turned to leave the room but Maxwell shouted after her. "Wait, Calli. Mr Facci wished to buy all your paintings."
"Mr Russo, I told you once and I am telling you again. My paintings are not buying or selling. I paint solely for myself." She paused and then added without bothering to look behind, "Moreover, I would put my paintings on fire than have him look at them, much less than sell them to him."
With this said, she was gone from his vision. And he came out of trance when he was awakened by the loud bang of the door.
She had a fire, he wondered and let out a smile.
"I apologise for her rude behaviour, Mr Facci," Maxwell said bowing his head.
"It will be forgotten as long as I have her contact information," Callum said.
Callum Facci had another wish today.
A wish he hadn't known he wanted to be fulfilled until he saw her today.
He wished to own her body, heart and soul.