Mile High (Up in the Air #2)(31)

I glanced around, baffled as to how he thought I could know that, with so many things to take in. But my eyes fell on it quickly. One of the dark floor to ceiling bookshelves was filled with content that was just more colorful than the rest of it.

I laughed, delighted and a little embarrassed. “You know, I don’t just read Manga,” I told him. But I moved to the shelf to study it. It held full collections of all of the favorites that I’d told him about, and several that I had heard of but hadn’t yet read. I sent him a warm smile. “Thank you. What a sweet thing to do.”

He smiled back. “I can be sweet. You inspire me to be sweet. And you can get whatever you want, for any of our libraries. I added a Romance and Urban Fantasy shelf, as well, though I was just guessing at the authors you might like. You only mentioned that your read the genres, not what in particular.” He pointed. “It’s over by the window.”

I glanced over, blinking at the extent of what he’d done just to please me. There was a small fortune worth of books in this monstrosity of a room, purchased just for me. It was such a thoughtful thing to do.

He’d made a few more chips in the thick wall of ice around my heart with the gesture. Little by little, he was making his way in.

I took deep breaths, trying to manage my sudden feeling of panic at the thought. It worked. I was becoming more accustomed to the way I felt about him. I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing, but I didn’t linger on that thought.

“Thank you. I could spend the afternoon reading, if you need to do some work,” I told him politely.

“I have one more surprise for you.” He pulled me from the room as he spoke.

I looked at him warily, wondering what he had planned for me next.

He led me into a large room with a bed, though I didn’t think it was a bedroom. It was another room of windows, the sunlight streaming in to light every corner. I saw the painting supplies then, lined up along an ornate chestnut table. There was an impressive easel beside it, already holding a large piece of mounted watercolor paper.

I walked to it, speechless.

“The table holds more supplies, in drawers, and shelves. And I had shelving put in along the walls to hold various canvases, so you can keep them organized.”

I glanced where he gestured with his arm. One wall was covered with custom made, built-in shelving, with shelves large enough to hold many sizes of canvases and papers. Many blank ones were already stacked there, sorted by size. The room was a painter’s dream. It was an inspiration in itself, the large windows giving me an unobstructed view of the majestic Wyoming forest.

There was a large desk in one corner. It held a Mac that had the biggest screen I’d ever seen on a computer.

I pointed at it. “What’s that thing?”

He raised his brows, as though I should know. “Those are the best computers for artists. I’m sure you’ll find a use for it if you need to pull up a picture, or do any kind of research. There are also several programs you might find useful. I’ll walk you through them, whenever you like.”

I just nodded, overwhelmed. “It’s amazing. Thank you.”

He smiled. “So what do you want to do this afternoon? I got to pick horseback riding, and you were more than a good sport about it. Your turn. We could read in the library, or you could paint. Or anything, really. What’ll it be?”

I chewed on my lip, my mind already on a picture I’d seen online that I wanted to paint. “There is a painting I’d like to start on, if you don’t mind. You could get some work done.”

He just nodded. “Okay. We need to shower first, though. I’ll work in here with you, if it won’t disturb you.” He gave me an inquiring look while he spoke.

I just shook my head that it wouldn’t.

“Then come.” He led me by the hand back to his bathroom.

The shower was a short, if intense, affair. James washed every inch of me, but that was all. I tried to return the favor, but he just kissed me, washing himself. He slapped my ass when I was clean.

“Out,” he ordered.

I was dressed before he was dry.

“I need to grab a few things, if you want to go back to your art studio,” he told me.

I left the sight of all of his naked flesh with more than a little reluctance.

I went to the computer, sitting down. I hated to have to look at tabloids, but unfortunately they held what I needed for the painting I was planning. It took me a minute to find out how to even go online with the new operating system. I typed in the name James Cavendish with a little feeling of dread.

Looking at tabloids had not been a good idea for me lately, but I really wanted that picture.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I braced myself for the onslaught of unflattering pictures and headlines I was about to see of myself. I wasn’t disappointed.

A few phrases stood out. ‘Cavendish’s new Vegas Vixen’ and ’Trashy Man-eater’ caught my eye as I tried to get quickly to images.

The images didn’t hold the picture I wanted, and I sighed with resignation. I would have to delve deeper into the search.

I paused on a picture of James, dated just last week. He was alone, in a suit, looking so much more solemn than any of his other red carpet shots.

I clicked on the picture. It had been taken at a charity event in New York last week. He had none of his usual charm for the camera, instead posing almost coldly. His eyes were impatient, when he usually had a camera-ready smile. I wondered if I had been the cause for his change. If so, the tabloids had probably been running wild with the idea. They hated me, and loved the idea of a love match between James and his best friend’s sister, Jules. I tried to just ignore the many old images of James and Jules as I went back to my original search, scanning carefully for what I wanted.