Passion Shattered (Masquerade Part III) by Emily Jane Trent

1 - The Painting
     
    Heather felt like her heart and soul were in the painting she’d spent so many hours creating for Ryan Spencer Blake to display in his opulent wine cellar. When he’d first described what he wanted, it had touched her. Passionate would be the only way she could describe it.
    Funny, she thought, how he has such a reputation for being a womanizer. I guess in Hollywood every star is the subject of gossip. She was sure the stories had been exaggerations. Still, she never quite relaxed about that story of Ryan’s engagement to Christina Levain .
    He told her that it was falsely leaked to the press, that he’d never intended to marry the beloved star. Yet, Heather wondered if such a story could be completely untrue. Something must have given that idea to Christina.
    Looking at the finished painting made her heart soar. It was probably her best work. She was sure it’s exactly what Ryan had in mind. She couldn’t wait to show him. For now, it was safely stored in her studio.
    She never heard the turn of the key in the lock. The silence of her thoughts was broken by a male voice and not the one she wanted to hear. Panic clenched her throat and she was unable to respond.
    “Heather, are you in the studio?” The deep baritone voice intimidated her like it always had. She froze.
    “Heather?” Suddenly, his face was in the doorway. She felt violated. He had come downstairs and was in her private studio.
    “I took my key back,” She choked out. “How did you get in here?”
    He was handsome, she’d give him that. No wonder she’d fallen for him. He was tall and lean, always well-dressed, but way too conservative, she’d found out later. Being an attorney suited him. In fact, she often felt on trial when she was around him. He really had nerve to speak to her as if he were welcome in her home.
    “I had a copy ma de,” he confessed with an evil grin . He assumed too much. Just like when they were together, he felt she should change to suit him. Well, she wouldn’t dress how he liked or socialize at his boring parties. Nor would she change her art for him and that’s what made him so angry.
    “Okay, so you’re here. Now leave. “   She thought of the heartache she’d suffered because of this man. It’s like him to return just when she’d been able to put that relationship behind her.
    “You still have several boxes of papers I need. The case is coming up this month.” He took a couple steps closer to the canvas to appraise her art. T he look of dismay on his face was obvious.
    “You should have called. I’ll have them delivered to you ,“ she said in a shaky voice . The closer he stood to the painting, the more upset she became.
    “I see you haven’t changed,” he said acidly. “What kind of trash is this?”
    Heather was so insulted, she could barely speak. “It’s none of your business. Nothing about me or what I paint is your business. You took care of that a long time ago. Now, I’m asking you one more time to leave or I’m calling the security guard to remove you. I’m sure you sweet- talked him to get past the entrance. That will be the only time that happens, I can assure you.”
    Jamison stood looking at the painting, shaking his head. “Such talent, wasted,” he sneered. At his leisure, he left the studio. “I need those papers delivered this afternoon,” he shouted behind him. As soon as she was sure he’d left, Heather raced upstairs to the front door and bolted it.
    Calling to the lobby, she spoke to security. “Jamison Stanton is just on his way out. He’s not welcome here. Don’t let him in again.”
    “Yes, ma’am, I’m very sorry about that. He said you were expecting him. I’ll make sure he’s on the prohibited list.” Heather slammed down the phone.
    It astounded her that she’d on c e loved that man or deluded herself that she did. He could be very charming when he decided to be. It had taken her a long time to see what he really was. Even when