The Art of Deception by Nora Roberts

thinking of coffee. Kirby’s door was wide open. As he passed, he glanced in. Frowning, he stopped, walked back and stood in the doorway.
    â€œGood morning, Adam. Isn’t it a lovely day?” She smiled, upside down, as she stood on her head in the corner.
    Deliberately he glanced at the window to make sure he was on solid ground. “It’s raining.”
    â€œDon’t you like the rain? I do.” She rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “Look at it this way, there must be dozens of places where the sun’s shining. It’s all relative. Did you sleep well?”
    â€œYes.” Even in her current position, Adam could see that her face glowed, showing no signs of a restless night.
    â€œCome in and wait a minute, I’ll go down to breakfast with you.”
    He walked over to stand directly in front of her. “Why are you standing on your head?”
    â€œIt’s a theory of mine.” She crossed her ankles against the wall while her hair pooled onto the carpet. “Couldyou sit down a minute? It’s hard for me to talk to you when your head’s up there and mine’s down here.”
    Knowing he’d regret it, Adam crouched. Her sweater had slipped up, showing a thin line of smooth midriff.
    â€œThanks. My theory is that all night I’ve been horizontal, and most of the day I’ll be right side up. So…” Somehow she managed to shrug. “I stand on my head in the morning and before bed. That way the blood can slosh around a bit.”
    Adam rubbed his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I think I understand. That terrifies me.”
    â€œYou should try it.”
    â€œI’ll just let my blood stagnate, thanks.”
    â€œSuit yourself. You’d better stand back, I’m coming up.”
    She dropped her feet and righted herself with a quick athletic agility that surprised him. Facing him, she pushed at the hair that floated into her eyes. As she tossed it back she gave him a long, slow smile.
    â€œYour face is red,” he murmured, more in his own defense than for any other reason.
    â€œCan’t be helped, it’s part of the process.” She’d spent a good many hours arguing with herself the night before. This morning she’d decided to let things happen as they happened. “It’s the only time I blush,” she told him. “So, if you’d like to say something embarrassing…or flattering…?”
    Against his better judgment, he touched her, circling her waist with his hands. She didn’t move back, didn’t move forward, but simply waited. “Your blush is already fading, so it seems I’ve missed my chance.”
    â€œYou can give it another try tomorrow. Hungry?”
    â€œYes.” Her lips made him hungry, but he wasn’t readyto test himself quite yet. “I want to go through your clothes after breakfast.”
    â€œOh, really?” She drew out the word, catching her tongue between her teeth.
    His brow lifted, but only she was aware of the gesture. “For the painting.”
    â€œYou don’t want to do a nude.” The humor in her eyes faded into boredom as she drew away. “That’s the usual line.”
    â€œI don’t waste my time with lines.” He studied her—the cool gray eyes that could warm with laughter, the haughty mouth that could invite and promise with no more than a smile. “I’m going to paint you because you were meant to be painted. I’m going to make love with you for exactly the same reason.”
    Her expression didn’t change, but her pulse rate did. Kirby wasn’t foolish enough to pretend even to herself it was anger. Anger and excitement were two different things. “How decisive and arrogant of you,” she drawled. Strolling over to her dresser, she picked up her brush and ran it quickly through her hair. “I haven’t agreed to pose for you, Adam, nor have I