Then she whirled, pointing at the barrel. “Oh my God, the monkeys.” She laughed. “I love them.”

Something decadent and delicious sparked in his eyes as his gaze played over her mouth. “I wanted to hear you laugh, just like that.”

An answering flame flared up deep inside her. She could almost taste last night’s kiss, and she knew he was remembering it too, as his eyes traced her lips. She was in danger of diving on him if she didn’t say something. “Well, a barrel of monkeys will certainly do that to me.”

“Actually, I came down to see if I could help.”

Given that fluttery feeling she got whenever he was near, she suspected he would be more distraction than help. She shot a glance at his pressed slacks and shirt. “You’re not dressed to help.”

“You’ve got me,” he said, holding up his hands. “The real reason I’m here is because I wanted my day to start with seeing you.”

God, the things he said to her.

I saw only you.

I didn’t want to split my attention between you and the road today.

I’m more than happy to tell you again how magnificent you are.

You make it easy, Charlie.

It’s a few more minutes with you.

After learning about his parents and the life he’d had as a kid, she’d found so much to admire about him. The way he made her melt from the inside out was like the whipped cream on this morning’s coffee, that special little treat that made her taste buds ooh and aah.

She drew in a deep breath because he made her feel lightheaded. Which, she quickly decided, was unacceptable in her workshop despite how much she had come to like being with him. This was her studio while she built the chariot and stallions and she needed to control it. It would be one thing if he were one of her students—she couldn’t stop thinking how much fun it would be to bring them here to see what a fully decked-out workshop looked like. But he wasn’t her student. He was her patron. And she was here to build him a $100,000 sculpture for his San Francisco high-rise.

“It’s nice to see you too,” she said as gently as she could, “but—”

“Get out?”

How could she not laugh out loud again? “Actually, if you wouldn’t mind helping me move these car doors first, that would be great. And then,” she added in a teasing tone, “you can go.”

He looked really pleased to get to stay a while longer, and her heart thumped a few extra beats as he carried the doors over to where she wanted them and his biceps flexed big and strong beneath his shirt.

“Are you planning to use these for the chariot?”

“Yup. I can grind them down to bare metal, then shape them.”

“Tell me about your equipment.”

She loved teaching. Plus, even if she should be kicking him out and getting to work, the truth was that she was glad to spend a few more minutes with him. Laying her hand on the first machine, she said, “This is a TIG welder—that stands for tungsten inert gas. It works on just about any weldable metal, including dissimilar metals. It’s also good on round pieces.”

“Fascinating,” he remarked. “I’m dying to watch you work.” His voice was low, and it set off a distinctive thrill inside.

“It will be a while before I begin putting pieces together. I’ve only just started a diagram. I’ll show you.” She opened her iPad on the workbench, then tapped an app to display the drawings she’d recently added. “I find a picture, import it, then flesh it out. Mostly I get the feel of the lines of whatever I’m making.” She traced her finger along the bunched muscles of a stallion.

He leaned over to put his elbows on the bench, his hip bumping hers. And for a moment, she forgot everything except the feel of him against her...and how good it was. Nearly as good as his mouth had felt on hers the night before.

Giving herself a quick mental shake, she refocused on the tablet. “The app isn’t designed for what I’m doing. But it works.” She showed him the bit of work she’d already done—a galloping horse and a chariot.

“I’ve only just hired you for the project and yet you’ve already put together a vision of it.” His gaze roamed her face, as if he were memorizing her features so that he could capture them on canvas. From out of the blue she suddenly found herself wondering if he’d painted any of the artwork in his house, even though he’d never said anything to her about being an artist himself.

“I dream these things at night,” she told him. “Right before I go to sleep, I’m planning, visualizing. Then, while I’m dreaming, things are created.”

“You’re amazing, Charlie.”

No one had ever built up her confidence like this. Her father had praised her, and her mother always believed in her, but neither of them had seen the same vision in her work. She tried to do that for her students, whether they were learning a trade to take into the workforce or creating a masterpiece. But for Sebastian, the ability to help a person see his or her own uniqueness was innate.

And so was his ability to make her admit things she hadn’t planned on giving away. “I’ve never had anyone tell me I’m amazing. Or magnificent.” She wanted to grab him, kiss him, wrap herself around him. “It’s nice. And also a little overwhelming.”

“I’m overwhelmed too, Charlie.”

When she could get her breath back at his unexpected statement, she had to ask, “Is that a good thing?”

He paused for several long beats. “I hope so.”

They were standing together on the precipice of something that had the potential to be great. Unfortunately, she knew from personal experience that great potential could turn to great disappointment really fast.

Finally, she broke the heady silence between them. “I want to visit my mom this afternoon, so I’d better get to work.”

“I’d like to come with you.” At the mention of her mother, something changed in the air. She couldn’t say exactly what, except that he seemed to vibrate, not with tension so much as intent. “If you don’t mind.”

“That’s very sweet of you, but you’ve already spent so much time with me, and I know how busy you must be with work.”

Honestly, the thought of a man who filled his remarkable home with dazzling, priceless art strolling into Shady Lane was horrifying. He would look at the institutional walls, ancient linoleum floors, and cramped rooms and be appalled that she could allow her mother to live there. Shady Lane was clean and passable, but there was none of the luxury he was used to.

He touched her cheek, sending sparks of electricity through her. “You create amazing art. And she created you, so I’d like to meet her.”

Lord, he was sweet. So sweet that she felt churlish for saying no, especially when, besides Charlie, her mother didn’t get any visitors. Francine Ballard would love to meet Sebastian, a man who would treat her like royalty, give her his whole focus, make her smile.

So despite all the inadequacies shrieking inside her, Charlie said the only thing she could. “She’d like that a lot.”

When he smiled his appreciation, then left her to do her work alone, she actually had to bite her lip to stop herself from begging him to stay.

* * *

“What beautiful flowers.” Francine Ballard bent her head to inhale the fragrance of the blooms Sebastian brought her. “Thank you so much.”

Charlie’s mother was a tiny thing, her back bent and her fingers crooked, but she had a smile that lit her face. With her curved lips and sparkling eyes, he saw Charlie in her.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Ballard,” he said formally. “I’m Sebastian Montgomery.”

Resting on the seat of her wheeled walker in the nursing home’s lobby when they entered, she’d risen at the sight of Charlie, keeping steady with a grip on both handles. “Sebastian, please call me Francine. Let’s put my flowers in the lounge so everyone can enjoy them. I’ll lead the way.”