It wasn't just the way he'd captured her otherwordly ballgown, the lines of her neck, the curves of her body. Not hidden. Not downplayed. It wasn't the fullness of her lips or the way he'd drawn her hair loose and a little wild, like she was staring down the wind. It was the look in her eyes. It was the muscles he'd drawn, along with the curves. It was the way that he'd drawn her like she was on the verge of saying something, like she was a person with something to say. It was bad enough that Grayson had made her beautiful, but he'd also drawn her strong.













