Affairs of State(34)
He laughed. “That sounds like the kind of thing I’d do.”
“Too much, too soon?” She smiled. “And then I tried to talk her into visiting Montana with me. I hope I didn’t scare her right away.”
“I’m sure she’s privately thrilled that you’re so glad to meet her and that you want to spend more time with her.”
“I hope so. I really liked her. I plan to call her regularly, and hopefully we’ll build the relationship and take it from there.”
Words to live by. He counseled himself to take the same course with Ariella. Just because he felt a deep conviction that they were meant to be together did not mean that she felt the same way. Gentle persuasion and thoughtfully paced seduction would be the sensible path for him to take, no matter how loudly his more primitive urges begged him to take her in his arms and kiss her hard on the mouth.
He showed her to her room, glancing at the door to his own, but not mentioning it. There would be time for that later. Then he took her on a brief tour of his favorite place in the world—the great hall that had once been a Saxon throne room, and had hosted many riotous dinner parties during his reign there. Then they walked to the oldest part of the building, which held the gallery of paintings collected over the centuries by his ancestors, which included works by Raphael, Titian, Rembrandt, Caravaggio and El Greco, among others.
Ariella was suitably poleaxed. “I think you have a better collection than most museums.”
“I know. I do lend them out to museums from time to time so they’re not entirely hidden away in my lair. I am lucky to have had ancestors with such good taste.”
“Have you ever had your portrait painted?” She glanced up at a majestic Van Dyke portrait of a young Charles II.
“Never. They’d have to nail me down to keep me still enough.”
“I think that’s a shame. I’d love to be able to stare at a magnificent painting of you.”
“Why, when you can eyeball the real thing?” They’d been unabashedly eyeing each other since she walked through the door. Their days apart had created sexual tension thick enough to fog windows.
“What kind of setting do you think would suit you?” She looked him up and down, as if wondering whether a landscape or interior might be better. His skin heated under his clothes as her green gaze drifted from his face, to his torso, and lower…
“Definitely the outdoors. Hanging off a mountain, maybe.”
“That’s a great idea. And these days they can snap a picture to work from so you only have to stay in the same place for a microsecond. Think of all those poor starving artists who would love to become the royal court painter. I think it’s your duty to be a patron of the arts.”
“I hadn’t looked at it that way.”
She swept down the hallway, and he hesitated for a moment to enjoy the swinging motion of her hips inside her fitted dress, before striding after her.
* * *
Simon’s castle was very ancient, but with wear from centuries of loving use, it felt like a home rather than a monument. And Simon thought of everything to make her comfortable: tea and scones on the terrace overlooking a lake with water lilies in full bloom, an art collection that could make you weep with its magnificence and a sunlit bedroom with a view of the lake.
Still, she wasn’t entirely relaxed. This weekend would undoubtedly take their relationship to a new level, one way or another. She was on his turf, at his mercy. She had no idea what he had planned for the weekend and he’d told her not to worry, she was in good hands. Which made her very nervous. She was used to being in charge and making plans and booking the entertainment. What if he decided to spring the queen on her as a surprise? With Simon around she knew she’d better be prepared for anything.
“I told the staff we’ll fend for ourselves at dinner.” Simon led her back from the art gallery into a sweeping living room with a high wooden ceiling. “I make a mean spag bol.”
“Is that a British way of saying spaghetti bolognese?”
He winked. “And they say Americans don’t bother to learn other languages.”
He was actually going to cook? She’d tell her beating heart to be still if she thought it would do any good. Dressed in khakis and a white shirt, he looked classically handsome. And the ever present twinkle of mischief in his eyes always sent her pulse racing. “I’ll have you know I speak Spanish and French, and I intend to study Chinese as soon as I can find the time.”