Why Not Tonight
Page 14

He put on a thick apron and goggles and reached for a rod. It was one thing to lie to other people, but he should at least tell himself the truth. He wanted to impress her. Just like some sixteen-year-old dreaming of scoring the winning touchdown, he wanted to get the attention of the girl.
He smiled at the realization. It had been a long time since he’d been interested in a woman. He wouldn’t have guessed she would be the one to light that spark, but she had and now the flame burned hot and bright.
Not that he would do anything about it. She was his guest and his responsibility. While she was trapped in his house, she needed to feel completely safe around him and not have to worry about him making a move. Still, a man could dream.
As he collected the material to begin his glass piece, he thought about what they’d talked about last night. How his father had once again produced drama. Yes, the situation was complicated and there was no good way to tell your son he wasn’t who he thought, but as always, Ceallach had picked the worst possible way.
Ronan pushed thoughts of his family and his growing need for Natalie from his mind and began to work. He’d come up with some ideas for making his piece look more like what she’d made—with the lines and angles.
Hours later, he had a series of small dragons. They were bigger than hers. The first three were crap but the last one was close. Damned close.
He held up the small glass dragon. Light flowed through the various thicknesses, creating the illusions of different shades of green. He hadn’t done a good job with the scales, but he would do better next time.
He walked back in the house. As he passed through the long glass-lined hallway, he was surprised to see the shift in the light, now that the storm had passed. There was blue sky and, according to the thermometer hanging just outside the window, temperatures were climbing back to the normal summer sizzle. He’d been in the studio much longer than he’d thought.
He walked into the kitchen and found Natalie sitting in her usual seat at the island. She had piled her long, curly hair on top of her head and wore a different sweatshirt over the sweatpants. The second she saw him, she smiled.
“You’ve been working,” she said happily.
He held the small dragon down by his thigh so she couldn’t see it. “How do you know?”
“You look content and a little smug. It’s your work face.”
“I have a work face?”
“Who doesn’t? Mine is a little more bemused, but then, I’m not the great Ronan Mitchell.”
“I’m not him, either.”
“One of us has to be and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t convince anyone.” She pointed to the window. “It’s sunny. I spoke to the county road crew supervisor, who is a very nice man, by the way. He said the main roads will be cleared by the end of the day and that he’ll make sure your road is passable first thing tomorrow. You’ll be able to take me to town by midmorning and be rid of me.”
He didn’t expect the sense of being kicked in the gut. “You must be happy,” he said. “Back to your own place.”
She hesitated just a second before answering. “I am, of course. Just like you’re thrilled to have your place all to yourself. Not that you haven’t been the perfect host. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you.”
“Thank you.” He put the glass dragon on the island. “You’ve been an exemplary guest.”
Her eyes widened as she picked up the tiny glass creature and set it on her palm. “Oh, Ronan, he’s wonderful.” She raised her gaze to his. “How did you get the folds in the glass?”
“It’s not easy. I’ve been failing for two days. I still have to work on the scales, but he’s getting there.”
“I love him. Thank you.” She smiled. “I finally have a Ronan Mitchell original.”
Right—because she couldn’t afford any of his regular pieces. He wasn’t sure if she was teasing or not because if she really did want something he’d made—a real piece of art—she was welcome to any in his storage room. He started to say that, then realized the offer could easily come out wrong.
“I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I am. Very.”
The polite response, he told himself. She was saying what you were supposed to say—nothing more. Yet he couldn’t help wishing she was telling the truth about spending time with him.
* * *
NATALIE SEARCHED THROUGH the drawers in the turret art studio. There were so many supplies stored so haphazardly that she was never sure where she’d seen what she was looking for. Ronan kept his work space organized, so she wasn’t sure why the turret was such controlled chaos. She wondered if he’d simply ordered every art supply he could think of, then had randomly stored them without giving them a second thought.
Not that she minded the search. As she opened cupboards and drawers, she found iridescent discs she could use, along with some black glitter. Her time with Ronan had a distinct dragon theme, one she was continuing with her piece.
She opened the small bag of clear, iridescent discs to make sure she had enough to be scales. She thought she might need another bag, which would mean another search. She would use the black glitter for the eyes and to tip the wings and the tail. She’d seen a box of small gold-colored paper clips in a drawer. Maybe if she used those with the discs she could add dimension to the scales and have enough material for the body. She also had some glass beads she wanted to incorporate and—
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She turned and saw Ronan walk into the studio. Her heartbeat instantly accelerated and her palms got sweaty. What on earth? Was she coming down with something?
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Good. I’m getting there.”
“May I?”
She nodded and he approached to study her work-in-progress.
The finished piece would be large—maybe two feet by four feet. The canvas lay flat on the largest of the work spaces. She’d applied two coats of flat white paint to seal the material before drawing the outline of her dragon in pencil.
“I’m going to do a night scene,” she said. “I haven’t found the right material for the sky. I’m thinking I want something with texture like beads or maybe pebbles. The white showing through will be the stars.”
She picked up a few of the torn pieces of paper she’d piled on the desk. “I’m not sure about these. Maybe bits of fabric would be better.”
“They’d handle light differently,” he said. “Do you want me to make you some black glass beads for the sky?”
“No! Are you insane? Ronan, no. You can’t. You have a multimillion-dollar commission you need to be working on. I can buy glass beads.”
“If you don’t have a strong opinion,” he said, his voice teasing.
“Make me glass beads,” she grumbled. “As if.”
He pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “Does the inspiration always come from what you have around, or do you find your vision determines what you’re going to use?”
“Both. I thought of dragons the second I drove up the mountain, so that’s where the idea came from. Then I used what I could find in here.” She grinned. “It’s a pretty sweet setup. I have great light in my home studio, but it’s just a boring bedroom. This is so much better.” She glanced toward the window. “I would love to see what it’s like up here when the sun has been shining for days. You have southern exposure. It makes me wish I was a better painter.” She wrinkled her nose. “But we all know that’s not going to happen.”