For a few moments he gazed upon the lovely Eulalia. Then his eyes were inescapably drawn to a painting of her, nearing completion on Rossetti’s easel.
He stared at it, his mouth slightly open. With an effort, he remembered not to drool. Eulalia lay on a rocky pavement, her arms stretched above her head, her delicate wrists clasped in unforgiving steel, affixed to a chain. Her body, thus stretched in all its feminine glory, was nude save for a strategically positioned fold of a garment that she had presumably worn before being stripped and restrained in this manner. Yonder, through the mouth of a cave, one beheld a terrifying landscape of rock teeth, their bald savagery in stark contrast to the soft curves of her gentle, vulnerable femininity. A landscape that could only contain dreadful creatures, entities that would tear that milky-smooth flesh to bloody shreds. Yet her face betrayed not fear, but a serene acceptance of her unfortunate position.
“Like it?” enquired Rossetti.
“You bet I do! How much do you want for it?”
“I’m sorry, Senator, it’s not for sale. It has been commissioned from me by a Lord Jollyrei, as a gift for his wife, Lady Thessela Threepwood.”
“Lucky Bastard!”
Repertor discreetly cleared his throat. “Pardon me, Mr Rossetti, but Senator Tree and I were discussing your work as we, ah, proceeded along New Bond Street. He expressed an interest in
Venus Crucifixa Est.”
“Ah yes, we enjoyed that, didn’t we, Eul?”
“
You enjoyed it!” retorted Eulalia. “I thought my shoulders would dislocate!”
Nevertheless she stretched her arms out, crucifix style. Tree tried to picture what was under her gown.
“Can I…..can I see it?” he asked, weakly.
“Oh, dear, there again I must disappoint you. I sold that to Roland Rattington, Esq. of Pimlico.”
“Shhh! Phlebas!” admonished Eulalia! “He asked you not to tell!”
“So he did…..gentlemen, I would be obliged if you could keep that information confidential.”
“Sure, his secret’s safe with me. But….why the secrecy?”
“There are those about who consider it blasphemous! Mr Rattington would be shunned by society were his possession of the painting to become common knowledge, and the repercussions would doubtless involve Miss Wilding and myself.”
“Shunned? Poor Mr Rattington. No, that would be bad. Would you….err….consider painting another one?”
“Not bloody likely!” Eulalia looked horror struck. “No way! I’m not going through that again!”
The three men looked at her in silence.
“No! Read my lips! N. O. Once was plenty! Put any such thoughts from your mind. How about a nice picture of me holding a flower?”
Rossetti merely cleared his throat, and picked up a large whip. “Your last word?”
She looked at him, those deep blue eyes boring into his.
“You bastard, Rossetti!”
The "woman in peril" ploy is very effective. And as you say, it has its other "spinoff" benefits. 
