Just as she'd said to him a few minutes earlier, there were big expectations in an environment like this, especially when a hundred thousand dollars was on the line. She'd felt the first wallop when he'd handed her the check, then again watching the glorious light show in his building, and once more when they were soaring in his helicopter with the brilliance of the Bay beneath them, the sailboats gliding across the water, the cars marching along the freeway like ants. And though he'd been nothing but nice, she'd felt like an ant under his heel that could be crushed at any moment.
At least, until he'd knelt beside her and asked if she wanted to work for free.
With one simple question, he'd helped her see that the only boot heel crushing her was her own. If she let it. Which she wouldn't. She wouldn't allow the money--or any success that came--to change her. Instead, she would revel in this perfect place--and in being near Sebastian--for as long as it lasted.
This, she was coming to see, was Sebastian's power. How with one sentence, he'd opened her eyes after she'd shut them because she was letting fear and worries get the best of her.
"I should let you settle in, unpack your boxes, arrange your stuff, and make the place your own."
He sounded like he didn't really want to leave, and a deep desire for him to stay tingled inside her. She wanted to show him every piece and how it worked. The urge to keep him near--and to bring him much, much closer--was so strong that she had to retreat a pace so it didn't spill over.
"It's a long way back to your house from here." The property covered acres of rolling hills, now brown and dry in the summer sun, and they'd reached the bungalow and outbuildings along a winding driveway leading from his helipad. His house was almost invisible beyond another rise at least a quarter of a mile above them. If this was what his guest bungalow and barn looked like, she could only imagine the opulence of his home. He'd said he hadn't been born with money, and she wondered how he'd gotten used to all of this and how long that had taken. Would she ever feel like she fit in a place like this? In a limo or helicopter? Or would she only ever be truly comfortable in her ratty overalls and steel-toed boots? "Are you sure you don't want to call your helicopter to fly you up?"
He barely stifled his laughter. "Are you begging for trouble?"
Yes. She wanted his brand of trouble. Badly. "You're such a good sport I can't help myself." And she hadn't yet stopped being surprised by that fact. "It's fun to give you a bad time."
"Bad?" The heat that radiated from him nearly jolted her farther back into the room. "Normally, I wouldn't care for the sound of that. But with you, I like the way bad sounds."
Oh God, her knees actually went weak at the thought of just how good she already knew it would be.
"Would you like to have dinner at my place tonight?"
She had no idea what was in the bungalow's cupboards, though she suspected he'd had them fully stocked, along with the refrigerator. She could cook passable meals, though nothing like her mother's. But the truth was that she'd rather be with him. And she had no urge whatsoever to lie to herself when the truth looked and smelled as good as he did. "I'm usually starving by six, if that will work for you."
"Six is perfect."
For one long moment after he said the word perfect, she couldn't take her eyes off his lips, could barely resist the urge to devour him.
But she hadn't been on his property an hour. And it was only a matter of days since he'd given her a six-figure check. Only remembering those two facts could have stopped her from giving in to the steamy air enveloping them.
Sebastian had told her he didn't want her to think his desire for her art came with strings. When they finally did come together, Charlie didn't want any of those material things in the way either. Just heat. Just desire.
And pleasure.
"Thank you for the helicopter flight here. For loaning me your truck. For the beautiful bungalow. And, most of all, for knowing just the right thing to say right when I needed it."
His gorgeous mouth turned up into a smile that made her want to forget all about her decision to keep sex and art separate for a little while longer. "Until tonight."
The two simple words falling from his lips sounded like a promise.
Or, better yet, a dare.
CHAPTER SIX
Thank goodness for the little sundress she'd thrown into her bag at the last second. Otherwise Charlie would have been totally underdressed for the terrace, the table setting, the view.
And, most of all, for Sebastian.
He was wearing slacks and a button-down shirt that molded perfectly to his chest. Whether executive style, casual, or something in between, he made her pulse sizzle. She could actually feel her blood's rapid thrum through her veins.
She raised her wineglass. "Your house is amazing."
A Spanish style, it was bordered with a breathtaking profusion of hydrangeas, azaleas, camellias, and rhododendrons. Inside, the floors were terrazzo tile inset with Spanish mosaics. The furniture suited, as if it had come from an old hacienda.
The table on the terrace was intimately small, his knee close to hers, his scent as delicious as the food and more intoxicating than the wine. They were seated on a cozy terrace on the side of the house, with a view of the rolling hills, the suburban towns sprawled below, the San Mateo Bridge, the waters of the Bay, and the outline of a distant San Francisco. As Sebastian tapped his glass to hers with a ting of crystal, she felt the echo of its ring inside her.
"I'm glad you like it. But I didn't design it."