Canvas Bound: Book One of the Captive Art Series (Chapter 1)

I paced my studio floor as evening descended on the field in my painting. The sparse oak trees cast lengthening shadows on the acorn-littered ground, where the grass was more golden brown than green. The sunny sky became a star-filled night, and the field turned murky as the shadows faded into the black oblivion… just like my mystery boy.

He’d vanished.

Again.

So did the rush of him appearing in my finished work, my joy squelched by the expression on his face. Usually he wore a smile—a sad one, but still a smile. That night, he’d just looked miserable.

I stopped pacing and stared at the canvas, reaching out to the spot where I’d last seen him. Maybe if I could touch him or knew where he went when he disappeared, I wouldn’t feel so hollow from his absence.

An icy trail ran down my arm a moment before my fingers grazed the wet paint. I pulled away, checking to make sure I hadn’t smeared the field. It was the first time he’d appeared since I’d arrived at Aldridge, and I didn’t want to ruin whatever connection I had to him. My hands shook as I picked at my nails, which were coated in splatters of color from painting all day. A glimpse of him, sad or not, had been enough to keep me working, hoping to see him again. I’d picked my fingers mostly clean when a knock came from the door to the adjoining room.

Please go away.

The knock came again, more urgent.

If you’re here, he won’t come back.

He wouldn’t anyway, though. He never came to the same painting twice.

“Libby, if you don’t open this door, I’m going to break it down.” Travis sounded more concerned than angry.

I sighed heavily as I dragged myself across my studio and into my bedroom, kicking a path through my discarded clothes to open the door. “This is solid walnut and has a steel lock. You’d only hurt yourself trying to break it down.”

“Hmm… good point.” His eyebrows knitted as he gave me a once-over. “Did you forget, or are you wearing that to dinner?”

I glanced down at my paint-covered T-shirt and jeans. “This is what I always wear to dinner.”

“Right. Surprise, surprise. Olivia Tanner forgot.” He breezed past me, patting my shoulder on his way to my bathroom where my closet and dresser were located. “You’re lucky you have me as your social director,” he said, ducking behind the door.

He wasn’t joking. If not for Travis, I’d probably never leave my private suite. We’d met two weeks ago, on my first day at Aldridge Art Academy. He’d enrolled several months before me and was assigned as my student liaison, a job he took very seriously. We were both from the States and had clicked right away—probably because he was the only person I’d ever met who liked Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall movies as much as I did.

Travis emerged from my bathroom, holding up my red dress. “You’re also lucky you have me as a fashion consultant.”