Treasured

by Sherryl Woods

  To shut her up, he kissed her again. This time when he released her, she didn’t ask a single thing. Instead, she whirled around and headed for her car.

  “Leaving?” he inquired.

  She scowled at him. “Yes, I am.”

  Ben thought he was home free, until she faced him.

  “Come and see my gallery tonight. I mean really look at it,” she said in a tone that was less invitation than command. “You promised you would weeks ago and you’ve barely glanced around when you’ve been by there.”

  It was true. He hadn’t wanted to look around. If he had, he might have been tempted to give her her way, to let her show his work.

  “I’ll fix you dinner after,” she coaxed.

  Ben regarded her doubtfully. “And spend the rest of the evening giving me your best sales pitch, I imagine. Or do you have more Christmas lights that need untangling?”

  “Quite a few at the shop, as a matter of fact, but we’ll save those for another day. I’ve finished the decorating for this year, anyway. No, tonight will be all about you and me.” She grinned and held her fingers less than an inch apart. “And maybe just a tiny bit about your art.”

  Ben gazed into her eyes. If he was going to get dragged deeper and deeper into this web she was spinning around him, then he had a far more intriguing way they could spend the evening, one that was every bit as long overdue as those heated kisses they’d just shared.

  With Mack’s advice still ringing in his ears, he moved closer, then lifted his hand and swept a finger along her cheek. He felt the skin heat, felt her tremble. “Make love with me, instead,” he suggested, gazing into her eyes. “Then we’ll have something much more interesting to discuss.”

  Color climbed into her cheeks, but her steady gaze never wavered. Then she politely held out her hand as if they were closing some very proper business arrangement.

  “Deal,” she said, taking him by surprise.

  Ben closed his hand around hers and felt the shock of the contact slam through him. Making love with this woman was going to be an extraordinary, life-altering experience. He should have been terrified by that knowledge, but he wasn’t. The desire that had been simmering ever since he’d kissed her the very first time reached a boil.

  “You’re sure? You’re not going to lure me into town, then change your mind?”

  She regarded him indignantly. “Dugans never back out on a business contract.”

  “I’m not sure that business describes what we’re talking about,” Ben said wryly.

  “It may not be directly business-related,” she agreed. “But a verbal contract is binding where I come from. I don’t take them lightly, no matter the context.”

  “Well then, I guess we have ourselves an iron-clad contract, Kathleen.”

  Eyes flashing, she met his gaze. “Assuming you Carltons have the same kind of integrity as the Dugans.”

  Ben laughed. “Oh, sweetheart, I think in this instance you can most definitely count on me living up to my word. I’ve been waiting a very long time to complete this particular transaction.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Kathleen was more jittery than she had been on her first date way back in junior high school. She told herself it was the prospect of making love with Ben that had her so jumpy, but the truth was, she was almost as anxious about his opinion of the gallery. She harbored this faint hope that if he really, truly looked around he’d have confidence that she could showcase his work in a professional way that would guarantee he’d be treated seriously and respectfully by the art world.

  She spent the entire afternoon polishing and dusting, adjusting the lighting on Boris’s paintings, rearranging the tastefully elegant Christmas decorations she’d completed only the day before.

  When the doorbell jangled just before three, she nearly jumped out of her skin, but it was Melanie who came in, not Ben. She immediately noticed Kathleen’s undisguised disappointment.

  “Expecting someone else?” Melanie asked, then grinned.

  “Not really,” Kathleen said, struggling for nonchalance. Ben wasn’t due for a few more hours, actually.

  “Oh? I heard my brother-in-law might be dropping by.”

  Filled with dismay, Kathleen stared at her. “How on earth did you hear that? We just set it up a couple of hours ago.”

  “Carlton grapevine,” Melanie said succinctly. “Ben mentioned something to Destiny about coming into town. Then he happened to speak to Mack, who already knew and guessed that he was coming in to see you. Ben didn’t deny it. Then it was just a hop, skip and a jump till the news was spread far and wide. If I could get the word out on my public relations clients half as efficiently, I’d be a Fortune 500 company by now.”

  “How can you even joke about it?” Kathleen asked. “Isn’t it disconcerting to have the entire family know what’s happening practically before you do?”

  “At times,” Melanie admitted. “But I’ve kept an occasional secret. That’s been all the more enjoyable because everyone is so shocked when they finally find out. No one knew about this baby, for instance. Not until Richard and I agreed it was time to let them in on it.” She shrugged. “Of course, Destiny guessed, but kept it to herself for once. She probably knows down to the second when it will be born. She seems to be intuitive when it comes to that sort of thing, or maybe God is one of those infamous inside sources of hers.”

  Kathleen laughed. “Speaking of that, does Richard know you’re roaming around loose with the baby due any second?”

  Melanie rolled her eyes. “No. I made my escape from the office while he was tied up on a conference call.” She gave Kathleen a sly look. “I thought you might want some advice on what to wear tonight.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “For the big date.”

  Kathleen looked down at her long skirt and colorful tunic. “I never thought about changing,” she said. “Is this all wrong?”

  Melanie gave her a thoughtful once-over. “Not for selling paintings, but it could use a little work when it comes to seduction.”

  Heat flooded Kathleen’s cheeks. “I never said…Surely Ben didn’t say…”

  “No one had to say a word. It’s pretty obvious to anyone who’s watched this dance the two of you have been doing.” Melanie chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. Just be glad I talked Destiny into letting me be the one to come over here. She’s very busy gloating this afternoon. I suspect it would have gotten on your nerves.”

  Kathleen groaned. This just got worse and worse. As if she weren’t nervous enough, now she knew that Ben’s entire family was waiting with bated breath to see how things progressed between them tonight.

  “Now, here’s the plan,” Melanie announced in a take-charge way that proved why she’d been able to cope quite successfully with the strong-willed Carltons. “I will stay here and take care of business, while you run home to change. I won’t let anyone steal the paintings or mess up anything. Just get back here so I can get home before Richard figures out I’ve disappeared. I usually go home about this time and supposedly nap for an hour. He doesn’t call, because he doesn’t want to wake me.” She shrugged. “I let him think that, so I can get a few errands done before he gets all crazy.”

  “Twenty minutes,” Kathleen promised. She’d grabbed her coat and was halfway out the door, when she was struck by panic. “Melanie, what on earth can I wear in here that’s also suitable for seduction?”

  “In your case, something that shows a little cleavage and a lot of leg,” Melanie advised.

  Kathleen laughed, her panic easing. “I think I’ve got just the dress.”

  “Good. Can I stick around and watch Ben try to get his tongue untangled?”

  “Not a chance,” she said with heartfelt emphasis. “Even if you could elude your husband for that long, which is highly doubtful, I think it’s best if the Carlton grapevine doesn’t get wind of the details on this one.”

  Ben stood on the sidewalk outside of Kathleen’s gallery, unable to propel hims
elf inside. This was it. The moment of truth. He was going in there not just to let her try to woo him into making some sort of deal for his art, but to do his own share of wooing. What the hell was he thinking? There were so many potential complications, he ought to have his head examined for even being here.

  But once Mack had planted the idea in his head—okay, it had already been there, his brother had merely brought it into the open—it had been impossible to ignore. There hadn’t been a chance in hell that he would stay away.

  He was still staring in the window, brooding, when the door opened and Kathleen stepped outside.

  “You’re going to freeze if you don’t get in here,” she told him, amusement tugging at her lips. “Surely you can’t be scared of stepping into a tiny little art gallery. It’s not some house of horrors.”

  He had been only moderately scared until he’d caught a glimpse of her. Then his mouth went dry and he knew the meaning of genuine terror. She was wearing a little black dress, the kind that was supposed to be suitable for any occasion. Somehow, though, on Kathleen that basic black dress took style into a whole other realm. It was barely more than a slip, actually, with tiny straps, a draped bodice that clung to her breasts, and hardly enough material to skim the tops of her knees. She had incredible knees and very long legs, slender and shapely.

  Looking at her set his body on fire. He was definitely in no danger of freezing.

  She, however, was shivering.

  “You’re the one who needs to go inside,” he said, putting a firm hand in the middle of her back, then snatching it away when a current of electricity jolted through him. Touching her was not a good idea, he reminded himself. Not just yet. Not if he was expected to tour this gallery, make coherent comments, and register suitable approval.

  In her strappy little black heels, Kathleen was almost as tall as he was, her gaze even with his. Her huge violet eyes were fringed with lashes that seemed darker and longer than he’d remembered. He lost himself for a minute or two in her eyes, then dragged his attention away again to firmly shut the door behind them.

  Her gaze still locked with his, Kathleen stepped around him, threw the lock and drew the shade. Ben’s heart started to thunder in his chest.

  “Um, Kathleen, what are you up to?”

  “Just locking up,” she said, her expression innocent. “So we won’t be interrupted.” She smiled brightly. “What would you like to see first?”

  You, he thought a little wildly. All of you.

  “In here,” she added, as if she’d read his mind. Her eyes were dancing with amusement. “What would you like to see in the gallery?”

  He tried valiantly to unscramble his thoughts and focus. “You’re the tour guide,” he said.

  “Then we’ll start with Boris’s work,” she said and slipped into a professional persona as she described the first painting they came to.

  When Ben said nothing, she frowned at him. “You’re not looking at the painting,” she scolded.

  He gave it a dutiful glance and concluded as he had the first time he’d seen it, that it was expert, compelling but not to his taste. “I’d rather look at you,” he told her honestly.

  She swallowed hard. “We’re wasting our time here, aren’t we?”

  Ben noted that her disappointment didn’t seem nearly as great as the thread of anticipation in her voice. “Sorry, but I’d have to say yes. I can’t concentrate with you looking the way you do.”

  She regarded him curiously. “How do I look?”

  “Incredible. Sexy. Alluring. Tempting.”

  She laughed. “You don’t have to go on. I get the idea.”

  He searched her face. “Do you?”

  The laughter died. “Oh, yes,” she said huskily.

  “Then we can postpone this tour?” he asked hopefully.

  She nodded without the faintest flicker of regret in her eyes.

  “I’ll get your coat.”

  “I can get it,” she protested.

  “No, I need a minute. Otherwise we might not even make it out of here.”

  She sighed. “I knew there was a reason I should have put a sofa in my office.”

  He grinned at her. “Maybe I’ll order one, something that opens up with a queen-size mattress.”

  “Maybe you should wait until you see how tonight goes,” she said, a surprising hint of worry in her eyes.

  “There’s no question in my mind about how tonight is going to go,” he told her. “None.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Ben heard the insecurity in her voice and knew yet another moment of impotent rage at the man who’d destroyed her self-confidence in yet another area. He had a pretty good picture of her ex-husband by now, a man who took his own weaknesses and lack of success out on the woman he’d married, cruelly filling her with self-doubt, because he couldn’t measure up. He’d cut her to ribbons as an artist, as a chef and, maybe worst of all, as a woman.

  Ben crossed the gallery in a few strides and took her in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, determined to make up for the cruelty of another man. He could practically feel the heat shimmering through her. He pressed her hand to his chest, where he knew she’d feel his heart pounding.

  “That’s how,” he told her gently, gazing into eyes that had turned smoky with pleasure. “It’s not just the dress that’s sexy, Kathleen. It’s you, every inch of you. We’re going to make magic tonight.”

  He said it with complete confidence and saw eventually that she believed him. She should. She’d definitely cast a spell over him, one that had vanquished all the heartache from his past. For the first time since Graciela’s death, he was daring to think about the future.

  And about love.

  Even though they walked at a very brisk pace, Kathleen didn’t think they were ever going to get to her house. Her whole body was virtually humming with anticipation, the sort of anticipation she’d never expected to experience again. Not even the icy December wind could chill the heat set off just by Ben’s gloved hand wrapped around her own. If he’d suggested slipping into an alley along the way, she might very well have agreed without a single reservation.

  Neither of them said much. It was as if words might break the spell that held them in its grip. She certainly didn’t want it broken. It had been much too long since she’d believed she had the power to make a man want her with the desperation and hunger she’d seen in Ben’s eyes, that she’d felt when his lips were on hers.

  As edgy as she was already, it wasn’t going to take much—a clever stroke, an intimate caress—to set off an explosion that would rock her. As impatient as she was for that to happen, she wanted to savor every second, wanted this delicious buildup to go on and on and on.

  Despite the simmering passion, there was also a niggling doubt. Ben had guessed it earlier and tried to put it to rest, but it wouldn’t go away. It was too entrenched. She didn’t believe for a moment that Ben wouldn’t satisfy her, but she was terrified of not satisfying him. He’d tried to reassure her that that wasn’t possible, but she knew it could happen.

  How many times had the heat built between herself and Tim, only to have her husband roll away from her, cursing about her ineptitude, blaming her for all the failures in their lovemaking? Of all the things Tim had done to demean her, that had been the worst. He’d struck at the core of her, all but said she wasn’t woman enough for him or for any man. And she’d believed him because she had absolutely no basis for comparison. Tim had been her first and only lover.

  And her last. She’d never let another relationship get this far, had rarely been on anything more than the most casual dates. Ben had lured her out of her comfort zone, perhaps because he’d barely even tried. Tonight had slipped up on her, catching her by surprise. She’d been so intent on one goal—getting those paintings—that she’d barely even realized what was right under her nose, an attraction that wouldn’t be denied.

  Given all that, it was amazing that she was here at all, walking hand in han
d with a man who’d come to mean so much to her, risking a failure that could rip them apart before they’d even begun.

  She stumbled. Ben steadied her, then gazed into her eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked, his brow creased with worry.

  “Fine.”

  “About everything?”

  She kept her gaze steady, took heart from the concern and love shining in his eyes. “About everything,” she replied at last.

  And she was. It was going to be okay, because this was Ben, not Tim. Tim was over. She’d been brave enough to make sure of that, even if she hadn’t been strong enough to move on before now. But maybe that was the way it had been meant to be, not moving on until the timing and the man were absolutely right.

  When they got to her house, she fumbled with the key until Ben took it from her shaking hand and turned it in the lock, then stepped aside to let her enter.

  She was reaching for the light when he stilled her hand and solemnly shook his head.

  “There’s moonlight coming through the windows. I want to see you first in moonlight.”

  Her knees very nearly buckled at that. “Upstairs,” she said unsteadily. “There’s a skylight in my room.” It was a gift she’d given to herself, a way to see the stars at night, the ideal light for painting in the daytime, though until very recently she’d never thought it would serve that function again.

  “Perfect,” Ben said.

  She led the way up the carpeted stairs, then turned into her room which was, indeed, bathed in silvery moonlight. It was better than candlelight, she decided as she turned to face him.

  “Now what?” she asked, her voice still shaky.

  He grinned, taking the edge off her jitters. “Are you expecting me to give you five seconds to strip and meet me in the bed?” he asked.

  She smiled a little less nervously. “Given the way we rushed over here, it did occur to me.”

  “No way, sweetheart. We’re going to take this nice and slow.” He grinned slowly. “You can lose the coat and gloves, though.”