She could feel the frown between her brows and resisted the urge to scrub it away. "They had a great salad bar. Some stuff is probably better than others. I read that they have a brunch on Sundays with prime rib or turkey, baked ham or rack of lamb. I think it's good." She waited a beat, letting his hands on her ease her tension. Except that they didn't, and she couldn't help adding, "Didn't you?"
She was working very hard to keep her voice light, but she heard the strain threaded through the question, Didn't you? Because what she'd really meant was, Don't you trust me to take care of my mom?
He seemed to battle with himself for a long moment, his fingers flexing against her, before he nodded. "You're right. The food was fine, the gardens were great, and the doctors and the care seem good too." He stroked her arm, once, twice, maybe trying to soothe them both this time. "The last thing is good news. Remember the couple at the gala with the house out in Woodside? She had the koi pond."
"Vaguely."
That was a lie. All she remembered about the gala was the way he'd shoved her up against the elevator wall, ravaged her mouth, then stripped her out of her dress in the penthouse. He'd taken her to heights she'd never dreamed possible.
At the same time, she was more than happy to leave behind the topic of her mom's new nursing home. Sure, they might be able to find something better than Magnolia Gardens, but it would also cost even more than the shocking monthly amount she was currently paying. And though Sebastian could easily cover it, Charlie simply wasn't ready to let him take over. Even if he had a miraculous capacity to overwhelm her resistance to whatever he wanted, she wasn't going to bend on that one.
"The couple would like something with an Asian flair to sit by the pond. I said I'd set your creative juices loose on the idea."
"A commission?" Charlie ran her fingertips over his jaw, loving the faint hint of five o'clock shadow bristling against her skin. She'd doubted anyone would call after the hotel gala, but in a matter of days, Sebastian had made things happen.
"Yeah." He reached around her and grabbed one of the beers, popping the top for her. Then he raised his, tapping the bottle rims. "Here's to getting all the commissions you'll ever need."
Need? What had happened to inspiration? She thrust the thought aside because she truly did need all this for her mother. And Sebastian was so excited for her.
"They sent me a photo of the pond." He kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll show you later. And there's a party we should attend tomorrow night. We'll make great contacts for you."
Charlie sipped the brew. And it was surprisingly delicious. But another party? These galas could turn into work. And without an ounce of the fun part, like digging through junk shops and combing old worksites for the buried treasure left behind. Besides, she'd rather be working on the stallions. Or better yet, spending tomorrow night alone with Sebastian, making love in the workshop, in the hot tub, and in his bed. She wound her arms around his neck, the cool bottle dangling from her fingers, and pressed sinuously against him in anticipation of all that lovely, sweet sex.
"Charlie." Her name was raw with need as it fell from his tongue. His wickedly talented tongue. "You want the commission?"
"Yes. I want it." At least if the party was tomorrow night, she'd have time to find another dress. Considering his social circle, God forbid she should wear the same outfit twice. As for the koi pond, she'd happily think about a design for it later. "But right now?" She licked his earlobe, loving the growl deep in his throat. "I just want you."
Again. It was so much easier to love Sebastian--with her hands, her mouth, her body, and her heart--than to deal with her emotions about her mom's infirmities or Magnolia Gardens, or even the commissions.
She pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him until she couldn't think about anything else, until he grabbed both bottles and set them on the bench. Then he lifted her, and everything started all over again.
This was the only place she wanted to be--in Sebastian's arms, thinking about nothing but him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Charlie stood in front of the mirror in the ladies' room of the San Francisco War Memorial Opera House, repairing the lipstick Sebastian had just deliciously kissed off her mouth. It was a lovely old building with classic Roman Doric columns--columns behind which they'd escaped for the luscious kisses that made everything worth it.
Since that day in her workshop two weeks ago, all the parties Sebastian had taken her to seemed to blend together. Tonight's benefit was for... Well, she couldn't remember. They were on the tail end of a dozen galas, benefits, and events where Sebastian was hell-bent on making her name as well-known as his.
She left the chattering crowd of women, returning to the grand entrance hall. Voices echoed in the high, vaulted ceiling, and tonight's crowd seemed almost impenetrable. She felt invisible in the crush, and honestly, it wasn't a bad thing. Charlie found herself craving quiet, empty moments more and more.
Just as Sebastian had predicted, the commissions were rolling in. So many, in fact, that she'd had to use the scheduler on her iPad. What's more, she was being written about--not as Sebastian Montgomery's new bit of arm candy, but as an artist. After the Regent Hotel opening, her work had been roundly praised. Even, shockingly, called genius. Soon after, Sebastian had convinced a group of reporters to come to her place in Los Altos, and then one newspaper had ended up doing a Sunday spread on Will Franconi's rock garden teeming with her Zantis. After learning he was a fan of The Outer Limits as well, she'd sent him a crate full. The commissions were mostly for garden works, smaller pieces than the elephant, rams, and lion. But an eccentric old guy from Palm Springs was fascinated with the T-Rex and was considering it for his desert ranch.
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sp; Sebastian was opening all the doors he'd promised. The possibility of a huge art career was deep in her bones now, not to mention a much bigger bank balance that brought her giant steps closer to making sure her mother could stay in the comfort of Magnolia Gardens.
He'd done so much for her. So how could she tell him she was tired right down to the roots of her hair?
What's more, she wanted, needed, craved the time to finish the chariot race. It turned her fingers to fire as she worked. The sculpture was her shining vision, and she could visualize the sun pouring through the glass ceiling, her stallions glowing like mythical creatures in flight.
Yet there was always another piece to slip in here or there, projects she hated to admit that she completed on autopilot as quickly as she could. Her only goal was to return to the stallions and their broken chariot. She hadn't even found a moment to start Noah's dinosaur.
Charlie sank down on a bench in an alcove out of direct traffic. She wasn't hiding. Okay, maybe she was. Just for a little while, until Sebastian found her and it was time to start schmoozing again. But her legs--and her soul, if she was being totally honest with herself--felt like they might give out if she didn't take a moment's respite.
She'd always assumed turning her art into a career would be a good thing. But she'd finally learned the downside to success--working on commission meant you weren't always doing what you were inspired to do, just what you had to do.
Which only made inspiration harder to find.