“Should I have brought you, Charlie?” He looked worried, obviously having noticed that she wasn’t jumping for joy just yet. “Should I have told you that I was meeting with a big hotel about your art?”

She wasn’t at all upset that he hadn’t included her when she’d have been a nervous wreck. It was tough selling herself. The only time she’d ever done it was with the dragon, and even then she’d known she wasn’t going to charge them a thing for it.

“Maybe next time I should go, just to try to get more comfortable with it all.” Even the idea of it made her feel more than a little nauseous, but if she was going to swim in the big pond, she’d have to get used to fancy meetings with fancy people, wouldn’t she? She held back a shudder at the thought and finally made herself smile. “But today, I’m glad you simply showed up with good news. Thank you. For everything.”

He covered her hand, his heat streaking through her, deep inside and all the way to her heart. “I believe in what you create. I want everyone to see it.” He gave her a wry grin. “You haven’t even asked how much.”

“I’m afraid to.” She was half serious about that. More than half.

“Don’t be.” He grinned again as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a check. “Fifty thousand.”

The bottom dropped out of her stomach and she felt herself plunging fifty thousand feet as she took the check from him. The work had been done months ago. It was almost like free money. Free money she tried to tell herself her work deserved—and that it hadn’t all just come about because Walter Braedon wanted to impress Sebastian with his purchase. She’d never been insecure before, and Sebastian was endlessly telling her how great her work was. But she’d never envisioned truly wealthy people ever liking sculptures made from transformed junk.

“I figured the rams were a less complicated project than the chariot and horses,” he explained. “But the decision is up to you. We can still negotiate for more money.”

“No,” she said almost sharply. “I’ll take it.” And all the extra months at Magnolia Gardens that she could give her mother. Because in the end, that was what it was all about, wasn’t it? Having the resources to take care of her mother in the best possible way. But it was also about Sebastian’s incredible support for her and her art. “Thank you. For believing in me.”

“You’re worth more than you could ever imagine, Charlie, and soon everyone’s going to know it.”

The next step was obvious, even for someone as non-commercially minded as she was: The more she created, the more Sebastian could sell for her. Sometimes she needed a break from one project when the juices weren’t flowing right, and she let her subconscious mull over the problem while she turned her hand to something else, which meant that even while she was building the chariot and horses, she’d still be able to work on a few smaller projects.

She had a moment of hesitation at the thought of becoming a mass production line. But she already knew what Sebastian would say to that—that she was being self-defeating, letting fear of success and the unknown get the better of her. Besides, she would never let herself turn into a sculpture factory. So why was she still borrowing trouble? She needed to shoo away all these storm clouds that kept gathering over her, when from anyone’s vantage point her life was getting better and better by the second.

“Braedon’s staging a grand opening gala in three weeks. He wants us there, and you’ll be the celebrated artist.”

“Me?” For all her self-talk about not letting fear get the better of her, the fear came roaring back in an instant.

“I want to show you off.”

“I thought you wanted to show off the rams?”

“You’re a package deal. You created magnificence and you are magnificent.”

For a moment, it felt as though the reflection in his gaze belonged to the woman he wanted to see, not necessarily the woman she was. She liked simple things, and while she stood up in front of others all the time as a teacher, she definitely wasn’t used to the kind of attention he was talking about. She’d seen pictures of him on the Internet, the glittery world he walked in, the beautiful women dressed to the nines with sculpted figures and salon-bred features.

Whereas she was just Charlie, a tomboy.

But Sebastian was now her patron and he walked in a world she wasn’t prepared for. Which meant she’d better start preparing now. Because Lord knew she didn’t have a single thing to wear.

And after everything he’d already done for her and her mother, the last thing she wanted was to disappoint him in any way.

* * *

As Charlie took the time to read carefully through the contract for her rams, Sebastian could easily visualize her dressed in haute couture and covered in jewels. She would outshine anyone in San Francisco society circles.

“It looks good,” she said when she finished reading, then took the pen he handed her.

He appreciated that she hadn’t just scribbled her signature without reading it the way most people would have. Still, he couldn’t help but notice that her normally steady hand shook slightly as she signed. Susan’s words suddenly came back to him: I wonder if you should be careful how hard you push her.

But making a sale for Charlie wasn’t pushing, it was helping. He knew the difference. After all, hadn’t he helped hundreds of thousands of people in the past twenty years? Then again, Charlie was more important than anyone else had ever been.

When he looked up at her again, he realized she’d finished signing the contract, slipped the $50,000 check into her bag, and was staring at him. “Is everything okay, Sebastian?”

“Now it is.” Pushing away the doubts that had no business hanging over them tonight, he stood, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet—wanting to sweep her away. She was as spicy as the fajitas, her bare shoulders shimmering in the sundress. “I missed you,” he whispered. He took her mouth with a long, sweet kiss, then pulled back and raised a wicked eyebrow. “You made a lot of innuendoes on the phone last night, about hot tubs and no swimsuit.”

“Mmm,” she purred. “I checked the tub earlier, and the temperature is perfect. I like it hot.” The t sizzled on her tongue.

She pivoted out of his arms and headed to the sliding glass door. On the deck, she slipped out of her sandals. He balanced himself in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame, his heart beating like native drums pounding out the rhythm of a sensual dance. Though they’d been taking it slow, she had to know how badly he wanted to feel every inch of her skin against his, to sink inside her, to hold her as he fell asleep and wake up clutching her tightly against him.

She flipped on the timer and bubbles rumbled up from the tub’s jets. Grabbing a clip off the poolside table, she raised her arms to wind her hair into a knot that she secured in back. Sebastian found everything about her utterly erotic. Her dress still on, she stepped down into the water. “Perfect.”

His suit jacket was way too hot against his skin. He’d kept it on because he’d had Braedon’s check in his pocket, and he’d wanted to present it to her as if he were a hunter arriving home with a kill for his queen.

“Are you coming in?” Water frothed at the hem of her dress. Leaning over, she wet her fingers, then flicked them at him. Her playful smile tucked itself close to his heart.

“You first,” he said, his voice harsh in his throat.

He silently willed her to strip off her dress. He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life—to see her glistening skin, her round breasts, smooth abdomen, and every treasure he’d dreamed of night after night.

Her smile was as seductive as Cleopatra enslaving Mark Antony. She curled her fingers into the dress’s hem and teased it up even as she took another step down. She pulled it up, up, up and over her head as she sank into the swirling tub. He had a glimpse of pearled nipples and creamy skin before she tossed the dress on the deck and covered herself to the neck in bubbling water.