Cowboy Untamed. Vicki Lewis Thompson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Vicki Lewis Thompson
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Blaze
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781474056977
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She’d imagined having to fight off his advances, but it seemed that when he was working, he wouldn’t be making any. That alone separated him from the other artists she’d dated. All of them, she realized now, had been easily distracted and basically lazy. They’d expected success to come to them without a whole lot of effort. They’d had ability and she’d allowed herself to be impressed with that, but ability without discipline was useless.

      But comparisons to her ex-boyfriends didn’t matter, because if she did decide to have sex with Grady, that was all it would be about. She’d keep it pure so she’d never have to discover his fatal flaw and become disillusioned for the fifth time. Could she manage to enjoy the sex and keep her emotions out of it? Only one way to find out.

      Walking into her cubicle, she stared at her potter’s wheel. She already had a plan for her next project, a large bowl to hold fruit. The interior would be a cool lime green and the exterior would be pale orange. She might add some flecks of yellow if she settled on the right shade.

      Yesterday she’d been excited about making it, but today her thoughts were on Grady instead of the new piece that had been on the drawing board for more than a week. Several customers had said they’d buy such a bowl, so she’d already presold a few. On the other side of the wall Grady’s torch hissed, and the air was filled with the acrid scent of hot metal.

      Listening to those sounds galvanized her. She’d make that bowl this morning and have a prototype for the others. Each one would be slightly different because that was her hallmark, but she had to create the first one in order to make variations on that theme.

      Generally, she preferred working alone in the barn, but having Grady there intent on his sculpting kept her at the wheel longer than she’d intended. His energy seemed to penetrate the barrier between them and she experienced design breakthroughs that stunned her. The fruit bowl took on an unusual shape that dipped on one side to leave room for a cascade of grapes or a cluster of bananas. She could see that becoming a trademark of her fruit-bowl designs.

      She’d transferred the first one to the kiln and stopped by the kitchen to get coffee when Arlene Danbury came through the door. Arlene’s watercolors of Wyoming landscapes had become increasingly popular in the past year, but the income wasn’t enough for her to live on. She worked part-time as a nail tech in a local salon to make ends meet. She reminded Sapphire of a sparrow—always in motion and easily flustered.

      This morning she was more hyper than usual. “He’s here, isn’t he? I can smell hot metal.”

      Sapphire felt like the gatekeeper, but if not her, then who? “He’s working and I’ve learned he’s very focused. We probably shouldn’t disturb him.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of it. But he’ll take a break sometime, right? What’s he working on? Is it the piece for the silent auction? I thought we were supposed to—”

      “It’s not for the silent auction.” Sapphire had learned it was best to interrupt Arlene when she launched a barrage of chatter or it would go on forever. “He’s making a sculpture for his foster mom. You know Rosie Padgett, right?”

      “She’s my client! I just did her nails this week. She’ll be so thrilled. Is it a surprise? I’ll bet it’s a surprise, so I won’t say anything. But if it’s not a surprise, then she might think it’s odd that I don’t—”

      “I think it’s somewhat of a surprise but I didn’t find that out. We’ll ask him when he comes up for air.”

      “Okay. Let me get some coffee before I go back to my stall.” She kept talking as she walked over to the pot. “I shouldn’t have any more, because I’m already a little jumpy, but I work so much better when I’m sipping coffee. Wait, there’s only enough for one cup. Did you want that?”

      “Go ahead. I’ll make more.”

      “If I’m the one to take the last of it, I’ll make another pot. That’s the way it always worked in my family. Maybe Grady wants some. Is he a coffee drinker?”

      “I am.” Grady appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. “But I can make it.” Stepping through the door, he held out his hand. “Grady Magee, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”

      For the first time in Sapphire’s memory, Arlene was speechless. She stared up at the tall cowboy with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. After what felt like a very long time, she murmured, “You’re beautiful.” Then she pressed her hands to her pink cheeks. “Did I just say that out loud?”

      Grady smiled. “If you think I look good, you should see my brother, Liam. He’s the handsome one in the family.”

      “Then your mom and dad must be beautiful, too.”

      “Never knew my dad, but my mom is definitely beautiful.” His gaze flicked over to meet Sapphire’s as if to ask, Who is this nutty lady?

      Since Arlene didn’t seem aware that she’d failed to introduce herself, Sapphire decided she’d better do the honors. “Grady, this is Arlene Danbury. Her watercolors of the Bighorn Mountains are becoming quite popular.”

      Arlene’s blush deepened. “Not as popular as your sculptures, Grady.”

      “They will be. I noticed your watercolors. Really nice.”

      “Oh, thank you! Pick whichever one you want and it’s yours!”

      He smiled at her. “You know I can’t do that. I’d choose the best one and you’d be out a lot of money.”

      “I don’t care.”

      “But I do. I’ll buy one of your watercolors and be honored to have the opportunity. Now, how about if I dump out the dregs and make us all a fresh pot of coffee?”

      “Okay.” Still dazed, Arlene nodded and moved out of his way. Then she turned to Sapphire and mouthed, Oh, my God.

      Sapphire struggled not to lose it. At least she wasn’t the only one enthralled with Grady. Arlene gradually recovered her poise and began pelting him with questions about his work. Surprisingly, she gave him a chance to answer each one before she threw out another, but it was more like an interview than a conversation.

      He took it in stride, as if this happened to him quite a bit. Sapphire didn’t doubt it. She couldn’t recall his being followed by a pack of female admirers back in high school, but he’d filled out since then. And he’d taken up sculpting.

      She’d bet his career choice affected how women perceived him. It certainly had influenced her. In high school he’d been a cute cowboy like all the others who attended school there. He still had cowboy charisma going on but he’d added a layer of intrigue with his career in the arts. No wonder Arlene had been struck mute.

      But Sapphire had picked up another tidbit thanks to Arlene’s fan-girl moment. He hadn’t known his dad. In talking about his mother and Rosie, he’d skipped over any mention of his father. He’d quickly dismissed the subject just now, too. Come to think of it, Grady and Liam wouldn’t have lived at Thunder Mountain Ranch if their father had been around to help out.

      In a way she wished she hadn’t learned that. It made him more vulnerable, more human and endearing. Because he hadn’t elaborated, she didn’t think the story was a pretty one. He admired his mother because she’d stuck by her kids and had raised them by herself, apparently, until the car accident had left her with nowhere to turn. That meant grandparents hadn’t been on hand, either.

      Yeah, she really didn’t want to know that about him. Staying emotionally detached from a guy who looked like Grady and had the talent of an angel was difficult enough without finding out that he was fatherless, too. Herb Padgett, Rosie’s husband, would have taken that role to some extent and maybe Grady’s new stepdad had belatedly become a father figure. But during Grady’s early years he’d missed out on having a dad for games of catch or afternoons spent at the nearest fishing hole.

      “Coffee’s ready. Who wants a cup?” Grady held up the pot.

      “Me,