An Irresistible Bachelor(20)

The Red Room was a real showstopper, he thought, which was precisely why he gave it to her. If she wouldn't let him help her overtly, he was determined to take care of her through back channels.




Callie stepped inside and slowly dropped her load. The delight on her face made his chest swell with pleasure because he'd finally done something that made her happy.

The room was decorated in deep red and burnished gold. In the center, there was a mammoth canopy bed in the Jacobean style, a little something that his great-great-grandmother had imported from an English castle. A fireplace, made of rich russet marble, was set with logs and above its mantel was a painting of the Madonna and Child dating to the sixteenth century. The best detail, though, was the stained-glass window that faced the front lawn. Framed in swaths of thick red silk, the built-in seat under it had pillows of every size and shape to lounge on.

"Goodness," Callie breathed, going over to the fireplace and then the window. Her next stop was the bed. She ran her fingers up the teak supports and over the acres of tasseled velvet that hung from the top. "This is magnificent."

As her hands stroked the rich cloth, Jack found himself wanting to remember exactly how she looked in his favorite room in the house.

"Red suits you," he murmured.

She went back to the fireplace and her eyes widened as they took in the painting. "Is this a Caravaggio?"

He nodded. "What do you think of it?"

She was silent for a long time. When she finally spoke, her voice was commanding and he smiled, thinking it was how he sounded when he talked about mezzanine debt and interest rates.

"It's magnificent, clearly from the height of his prominence. But I'm shocked at its location. Is this fireplace ever used?"

"No. I've had it sealed."

"Good. Repeated, radical changes in temperature are death to an oil painting." She flashed her eyes over at him. "You should have this conserved. When was the last time it was cleaned?"

"My great-grandmother bought it in Italy in the nineteen-twenties. I don't know that anything's been done to it since."

She made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat as she studied the work more. Her absorption was total, her breathing shallow. He figured a stink bomb could go off in the room and she probably wouldn't notice.

This woman was pretty close to fantastic, he thought.

"So, Callie, maybe we should go through the whole house together and you can tell me what else needs attention."

"Be happy to." She went over to the window seat and looked through the small clear windows on either side of the stained-glass panels. Arthur went with her as if to supervise, putting two paws on the cushions and arching forward, almost as tall as she was on his hind legs. Callie's arm stole around his scruffy neck and she patted his shoulder absently.

As Jack stared at the two of them, he knew he should go. There was something altogether too appealing in the picture they made.

"The painting's arrival was delayed," he said. "It's supposed to come tomorrow. But I can show you the space over the garage first thing in the morning."

She looked over her shoulder. "Great."

"The bathroom's through there." He pointed over to a paneled door. "And I'm across the hall if you want anything."

Her eyes skipped away from his as she straightened. Once again, he had the impression she'd wait until the house was burning down and she'd run out of water before she'd knock on his door.

What would it take for her to open up, he wondered.

"Do you need anything?" When she shook her head, he undid his jacket and started to loosen his tie. "Listen, I'm sorry I wasn't here when you arrived."

She shrugged. "It really wasn't a problem."

"My mother—”

"Is a lovely lady." She cocked an eyebrow at him, daring him to call her on the bluff. It was obvious she was going to take the high road and he respected her for it.

But he wasn't going to stand for her being disrespected while under his roof.

"If you have any problems with her, let me know."

"Now why would I have to do that?" she returned softly.

Whether she was talking about his mother's bad behavior or coming to him, it wasn't clear. Probably both.

There was a long pause. When Callie's eyes shifted to the bed, becoming wide and pleased again, he thought it was highly probable that she lived in the building in Chelsea.