A Water Nymph for The Billionaire

Two

Matthew had thought it a good day to spend the last remnants of the early autumn afternoon down at the river; the unseasonal heat would bring animals to the water to drink. So he allowed his men to finish early and while they joyously returned to their homes and families, he grabbed his sketchpad and rode his horse to the river nearby to one of his favorite places to find animals to sketch.

He was a well-known artist, but he chose to live out here and only travel for art shows if he needed to. The tranquility and the subjects he could find out here were what held him here, along with his love for the area. It helped that he wasn’t constantly harassed by women trying to get him to marry them like he had in the city. So he preferred it out here.

Quietly, he placed himself in the shadows and patiently waited to see what creatures the heat would bring to the river. The warmth often brought deer and other wild creatures to drink of the cool water and he wanted to sketch some animals that he could use as a portrait for his living room or his next exhibition. This was his favorite place since it had the widest variety of animals and there was never a shortage of life in the shady utopia.

He hadn’t sat there long, when he heard something on the opposite bank. Picture his surprise when he saw a gorgeous young woman in her early twenties walk into sight. He wasn’t sure if he should reveal himself, thinking that she would get some water and leave. He didn’t want company, or someone to chase the wild animals away. The sooner she got water and left, the sooner the animals would come out of hiding.

He had no idea who she was and what she was doing here, but he assumed it had something to do with Old Mr. Daniels’ place. And he feared that if he announced himself she would invite herself to join him and he had no interest in conversation at this point, especially since that would chase any animals that might come to drink away.

He watched as she raised her face slightly, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before she mischievously bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. Clearly she found as much pleasure in this spot as he did, but in his mind he was willing her to get some water or do whatever she had intended to and leave, so he could return to his natural sketches.

He never imagined that she would strip down naked and go for a swim. At first he thought that she would just roll up her jeans and walk barefoot into the water some, but then she started pulling her shirt and jeans off and soon afterwards her underwear as he stared in open mouthed shock. Matthew had been unsure what to do, but when he saw the picture she made in the water, his hand automatically started sketching what he saw.

The sun had clearly bleached her loose hair, leaving streaks of strawberry blonde between the darker red, but her skin was untouched by its burning heat, reminiscent of peaches and cream, all the way to her toes. A lock of the bleached strawberry hair had fallen over her shoulder and was framing one beautiful breast. The stunningly flat muscles under her skin moved with a rhythm that he felt in the pencil he held.

His eyes hungrily drank in the details of her form. Her small but firm breasts, her strong arms, flat stomach; the muscles rippling under her skin called to him, even the rise and curve of her ass drew his eyes. The color of her ivory skin burnt into his memory, her auburn hair that hung down to the middle of her back. He was sure he could have remembered everything without the sketch he was quickly jotting down. The sight of her left his mouth dry.

He fully intended to leave as soon as he had the image and she looked away so he could leave without her knowledge, but when she stepped under the waterfall and the water cascaded onto her skin, he could not bear to leave that image, so he turned the page and started a new sketch; burning that image into his mind as well.

He was enthralled by her natural beauty and how she lost herself in that moment. He knew in that instant that he fully intended to find out who she was after this. She was the perfect model for at least a trio of paintings in this setting and he knew they would be sold first in his next showing that was aimed at nature.

When she seemed to realize that she was not alone he was almost embarrassed by his own actions, until she faced him with her full beauty and her emerald eyes met his gaze; the color seemed fitting of her surroundings and the image conjured in his mind. At that moment he had a name for her. Even if he never saw her again she would be the water nymph. As he continued to sketch her, he watched the emotions play over her face, first shock, then amazement and horror, then anger.

He sensed her anger as a new entity and in his dreamlike state he half imagined her to summon the forces of this paradise to incarcerate him and he would go willingly. But he had to stay as long as he could to capture that moment. However, he was amused when she blushingly disappeared into the water to swim to the opposite side and then ran from his sight in all her naked glory. Of all her reactions, that was the one he had least expected when she had turned to him and yet it seemed fitting as well and, to him, something entirely endearing.

She was shy!

The fact that she had seemed so embarrassed proved that she had thought she was alone and also proved that she was not one to use her womanly curves for personal gain. The fact that she was shy also drew his attention with about as much power as her luscious curves had.

He’d never before focused on a human subject and never used naked models as some artists do in their classes; he’d always focused on nature. But now he wished she would return and allow him to finish his sketches, though he knew that he had seen enough to finish them without her. Honestly, he would love to see her again, even without a sketchbook, since she’d definitely caught his full attention.

His crooked smile grew as he made the last touches from memory and stood to leave. He’d seen much more than he had expected to sketch that day. And sketching animals suddenly did not appeal to him anymore - at least not tonight. Plus he was itching to lay the image of her in the water on canvas.

Matthew did not continue with the sketch when he got home; he was more interested in replaying the happenings at the river in his mind, while he absently rolled himself a cigarette and sat smoking it in his favorite chair.

Something about that young woman had drawn him to sketch her and something about her now had him wanting to meet her. While he had played the happenings over in his mind, he only remembered the cigarette when it burnt his fingers and he threw it into the ashtray with a curse.

Perhaps a visit to the Daniels’ ranch was in order, if she was not also attending the welcoming party the coming weekend. But then she might have had no link to the Daniels’. His interest suddenly piqued on something other than his ranch and painting; something that had not happened in a while. He went to bed without an answer as to how he could meet her again and who she might be.

That night in his dreams he saw the nymph again and he woke in a hot sweat. He’d had no idea that the picture would haunt him in his sleep as well. He was torn between taking a cold shower and sketching the image he had seen vividly in his dream. Switching on the light he reached for the sketchpad on his bedside table. This was one of those images that would haunt him until he had captured the spirit of it. Closing his eyes, he pushed his hands through his curly black hair that he wore to just above his shoulders.

His hand flew over the page as he remembered the details and when he took his hand away and stared at the sketch he gave a small smile. He had caught the sensation like it had been in the dream.

Staring seductively out of the page was a nymph with slightly pointed ears that peeked through the wavy tresses. The smallest mischievous smile graced the face that was slightly lowered so she looked through her lashes. Water toned her bare skin ivory silver. Her hands rested on the water, fingertips playing on the surface. Though it was just a sketch he could remember the colors vividly. This sketch was likely to become a detailed painting he would enjoy spending time on creating.

As he looked at the vision of his dream, he opted for the cold shower, just in time to start the day. But as he stood under the falling water he knew that he would try to find her as soon as the winter preparations had been finished. This nymph had caught his attention, the first one in a long while. He was sure this interest was at least worth pursuing until he knew who she was.