“Is there anything you won’t say?”
She thought for a second. “Probably not. I try not to be mean or hurtful, but otherwise I’m not much into self-editing. It takes a lot of work.”
“Come on. You need to get warm.”
It was only when they entered the huge bathroom complete with steam shower, a tub for four and matching vanities that she realized they’d been in his bedroom and now were in his bathroom.
Yes, she thought Ronan was very handsome, and okay, sure, she’d had the odd naughty daydream about him, but shouldn’t there at least be a bit of conversation first?
“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked as he punched several buttons on a complicated keypad outside the shower.
“Getting you warmed up. Wait here.”
He disappeared into what she guessed was the closet, then reappeared with a T-shirt, socks, a sweatshirt and sweatpants.
“They’re going to be way too big, but you have to wear something while your clothes are drying. We’ll wash them when you’re done.”
“Will we?”
He walked back to the panel and pushed another button. After a couple of seconds, water came on and the shower began to fill up with steam.
“I’m going to leave now,” he told her. “Take a shower. A long one. When you’re warm and dry, come find me. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Not waiting for her in bed? The thought occurred without warning and caused Natalie to wonder if maybe she had hit her head. At best, Ronan saw her as a cross between a useful piece of office equipment and a baby sister. At worst, he found her annoying. Men did not, as a rule, find annoying women attractive. Plus there was the sprite. Who could compete with her?
“How do I turn off the shower?” she asked.
He pointed to a red button with the word Off printed on it.
“Oh. Good. I can do that.”
“I have every confidence. Now get in the shower.”
“There’s no need to be bossy. I was doing a good thing when I drove up here to find out if you were dead. And I have no idea what I would have done if there’d been a body. So technically, this is your fault. You could have emailed.”
“You mentioned that already.” He pointed to the shower. “Get in.”
She pointed to the door. “Get out.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Yes, ma’am.” He turned and left.
“Annoying man,” she muttered as she tugged her wet, muddy, clammy dress over her head and dropped it on the floor, then put her glasses on the counter. But the words were said without much energy, and as she stepped into the shower, she found she was smiling.
* * *
RONAN CLOSED THE bathroom door behind him before walking out of the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway, turned and looked back at the glass piece by the window. Even in the dim light of the storm, she seemed almost alive.
He’d created her—had designed the various segments that made up the whole, had played with color until he found the right combination and had, with help from his brothers, brought her to life from inert glass. She was one of his best. Something he could be proud of. He should hang on to that because he was unlikely to do better. In the past few months, he’d discovered he was unlikely to do much of anything at all. Whatever talent he’d had, whatever creative ability, was gone and he had no idea how to get it back.
He turned away from the window and headed for the kitchen. Once there, he boiled water for tea, then walked into the fully stocked pantry to see what the part-time housekeeper had left for him that Natalie might like. He settled on a can of chicken soup and put it in a bowl to heat in the microwave.
Living on the side of a mountain had its advantages—peace and quiet for one, and not many drop-in visitors. The downside was there was no takeout nearby and when the weather turned bad—something that happened maybe once or twice a year—he was trapped either up or down the mountain.
He collected his laptop and quickly logged on to the Happily Inc county website, then shook his head as he viewed the map of the area. There were several mudslides and blocked roads already. He had a feeling Natalie was going to be his guest for a while.
He emailed his brother Nick to let him know what had happened and that Natalie was safe, then glanced out the window at the torrential rain and blowing wind. He had no idea how she’d made it up the mountain in that damned car of hers. It was old and barely running. He couldn’t believe anyone would have sent her out in this weather driving that car. When he got back to town he was going to have stern words with his brothers and Atsuko, the owner of the gallery and Natalie’s boss. They should take better care of Natalie.
“You’re looking fierce.” Natalie walked into the kitchen. “Have I created a disturbance in the force by my very presence? Is it because I’m a woman? Am I messing with your male energy?”
Despite himself, he smiled. “I’m more than capable of deflecting your energy,” he told her.
“Nuh-uh. Women have been messing with men’s energy for centuries. It’s part of our mystique.”
“Did you just say ‘nuh-uh’ as part of your argument?”
“I did and it was effective.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?”
He watched her prowl the kitchen. Despite her curves, the borrowed clothes were ridiculously large on her. He was six-two and she was barely five-three. She had to hold up the sweatpants with one hand and the sweatshirt hung well past midthigh.
Her shower had washed off any makeup, leaving her looking young and vulnerable. Her normally wavy hair was damp and curlier than he would have imagined. Tight ringlets grazed her shoulders.
“It’s a miracle you got here in one piece,” he told her. “I can’t believe my brothers and Atsuko sent you out in the storm. That pile of trash on wheels you drive isn’t safe.”
Her expression immediately turned guilty. “Yes, well, I was supposed to take Nick’s truck, which has four-wheel drive, only it’s so big and I’m not comfortable driving it, so I didn’t. Don’t be mad at them. They didn’t know.” She paused. “They probably do now.”
At least that was something—now he wasn’t going to have to beat up his brothers. At one time he would have been more than happy to take on one or all of them, but lately he’d found himself disconnecting instead—walking away rather than acting. A philosophy that summed up much of where he was these days.
She pushed up her red-framed glasses as she sniffed. “Is that soup? Did you cook for me?”
“I opened a can and everything.”
“What a guy.” She sat on a stool at the island and grinned. “You can serve me now.”
“Can I? Will you let me?”
The teasing earned him a smile.
Natalie was one of those naturally sunny people. She was always in a good mood, always excited about whatever life had to offer that day. He supposed he should find her annoying, but he didn’t. Being around her made him feel better about everything. He liked knowing she hadn’t been troubled by tragedy. She was bright, funny and talented, although he had a feeling she would disagree with the latter. According to her, she only played with paper, nothing more.
He knew differently. Natalie was a gifted artist who used paper and found objects to create unique works. She would say