As dusk descended on the small Maine village, Mitch watched from the shadows as Alyssa unloaded a large canvas with the help of a gallery staff member. The bulky boots were at odds with the delicate dress she wore beneath her winter coat. Black material twisted around her sleek, toned legs as she picked her way around slush piles and snow drifts.
Between fat, falling snowflakes, he glimpsed her latest piece—a forest bathed in red. The small peek wasn’t enough from across the street, but he’d get a better look tomorrow when he visited the gallery.
It had been over twenty long months since he’d first spotted Alyssa at a small county fair, working at a venue booth to sell her paintings. She’d smiled politely and coyly sidestepped his attempts at flattery. But he wouldn’t be thwarted easily, not when her scent was so intriguing. Even with the perfume, he could tell she was a rarity.
So Mitch had followed her across the country. Clearly, she enjoyed traveling, something they had in common. He’d lost her for a bit in the southern states but picked up her scent again in Kentucky before tracking her up to Maine.
It was a pity he wouldn’t be able to attend the gallery showing tonight, but if he could win the pot in tonight’s game, he’d be set for a while. He’d have enough funds in his account to acquire two of the things he most desired. A painting to remember Miss Alyssa Mayer, and the artist herself, even if just for a night or two.
His dick jerked against his pants at the thought of finally having her. His long wait would soon be over. And if she stubbornly refused his efforts again, he’d have the means to disappear after he’d had her a dozen times. No human could track him. Any crime he might commit would go unpunished, and with no family to help her, he doubted his little artist would pose all that much of a challenge once she understood precisely what he wanted from her.