Crazy Love (Emerald Lake Billionaires 3) (19 page)

“I hear this is where the walking wounded are sent?” Holly smiled at Sam before looking at Daniel.

Another wave of heat hit his face. This time it was from embarrassment. “I’m not hurt, just bruised.”

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it when he saw the look Daniel sent him.

Holly frowned. “Those stitches don’t look like bruises.”

Daniel’s hand automatically headed toward the deep cut above his right eye. “It looks worse than it is.”

Holly glanced at Sam.

He shrugged. “The accident has made him grumpy. Where’s Mia?”

“She followed me in her truck to the main entrance. She’s gone home to do more painting.” Holly placed her bag on the floor and took off her jacket. “Mia told me your truck decided to try a little ice-skating?”

Daniel pulled his mind away from her tight green sweater and figure-hugging jeans. He wasn’t easily distracted, but she had a way of turning his brain into ice cubes and tossing them in the air.

“I skidded across a patch of black ice. If the streetlight hadn’t been there I wouldn’t have spent an hour in the Emergency Room.”

Holly leaned toward him. “Your black eye is impressive.”

“It will fade,” Daniel muttered.

“He needs someone to look after him.” Sam looked at Holly. “He might have a concussion or something.”

Daniel’s gaze shot to his so-called friend. He grunted as the pain in his head nearly blinded him.

“See,” Sam said, “he shouldn’t be going home alone. If he needs urgent help he’s at least forty minutes from town.”

“I can go home on my own,” Daniel said firmly. “If I need help, John and Todd are close by.”

Holly sat on the end of Sam’s bed. “Not exactly. Todd and Sally are leaving tomorrow for their honeymoon. If John was away from his house, someone would have to drive to your property. Sam’s right—it would take at least forty minutes to get to Emerald Lake in this weather. I’ve got a spare bedroom. You could stay with me overnight and go home tomorrow.”

“I’ll call Blake. He’ll fly back from New York and stay with me.” Daniel didn’t like the desperate note in his voice. He took a deep breath and tried again. “He can work from anywhere.”

Holly frowned. “It’s Sunday. He’s probably doing his own thing. I don’t even know if the airport is open. What’s so bad about staying with me?”

Daniel wasn’t worried about staying with her. The problem was what they’d do when he was there. Holly was still learning to trust him. He didn’t want to put that trust in jeopardy.

“We could call it our next date.” She looked across at Sam. “It’s not the big adventure I was planning, but at least it’s different. We could have a picnic on the living room floor and pretend we’re camping in the wilderness.”

“It’s certainly creative,” Sam said as if considering a multi-million-dollar deal. “If it was me, I’d be there in a flash.”

Daniel wasn’t impressed with Sam’s enthusiasm. It was all very well for him, but he wasn’t the one with his heart on the line.

Holly swung her legs backward and forward. “I don’t think you’ll be awake for too long tonight, anyway, Daniel. You must be feeling sore and tired.”

“I’m not ninety years old,” he growled, looking deliberately at Sam.

“Neither am I,” Sam said with a grin.

Daniel knew he wasn’t going to win this argument. In the great scheme of his life, spending one night in Holly’s apartment wasn’t a big deal. And if he told himself that enough times, he might actually believe it.

“Okay,” he said before he changed his mind. “I’ll go home with Holly, but I have to stop by a store first. I need to buy some clothes to change into.”

The smile on Holly’s face made him groan. She looked surprisingly happy to have him invade her space.

He glared at Sam. A voice in the back of his aching head told him he’d just made a big mistake.

***

Holly stood in the middle of her living room, thinking about everything Daniel might need while he stayed with her.

She pointed to a doorway. “The kitchen is through there. Help yourself to anything you’d like.”

Daniel put his shopping bags on a table and walked to the window overlooking the street. “You’ve got a nice view.”

“It’s not as good as your lake, but it suits me.” She looked closely at him. He hadn’t said very much since they’d left the mall. “You’ve had a big morning. I think you should sit down.”

“I’m all right. My head’s banging, but I can take more pain relief in half an hour.”

“You’re too pale. Come and sit down. If you fall over, I’ll never be able to pick you up.”

Daniel reluctantly sat on the sofa and rested his head against the back cushion. “Thanks.”

“You’d do the same thing for me. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Daniel started to nod, but winced as soon as he moved his head.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Don’t move. I’ll only be a few minutes.” Holly had tried to convince him that they didn’t need to go shopping. Claire or Hannah would have looked after him while she bought him a change of clothes. But Daniel didn’t want to be a bother to anyone, including her.

After arguing in the middle of the mall, he’d eventually agreed to sit in a wheelchair. It hadn’t been the most stress-free shopping she’d ever done, but they did manage to buy him everything he needed.

While the coffeepot warmed up, she made them cheese and tomato toasted sandwiches. It wasn’t fancy, but at least it would be warm and filling.

Holly poured a cup of coffee for Daniel and took it through to the living room. She half expected him to be wandering around the house. He had an annoying habit of not listening to anyone, especially when he thought he was right.

She started to say something to him, then stopped. After she’d left the room he’d pulled his legs onto the sofa and put a cushion under his head. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady.

The sofa wasn’t as comfortable as a bed, but while he was sleeping he wouldn’t notice the pain in his head.

She left his coffee on the table and found a blanket. Very carefully, she laid it across his body, trying not to disturb him.

Even though Daniel had told her he was okay, she knew he wasn’t. The longer they’d been out, the paler he’d become. By the time she’d parked her car, he’d looked as though he was ready to pass out from exhaustion.

She pulled the curtains in the living room before heading into the kitchen. All she needed to do was make sure he got plenty of rest. But knowing Daniel, that wouldn’t be easy.

***

Holly opened another tube of paint and squeezed a tiny amount of magenta onto her tray. Her latest landscape was a pleasure to paint. The shape of the mountains, the contrast between bare rock and dense forest; it was all there, creating a story with each stroke of her brush.

She was spending every minute she had in her loft, painting long into the night to finish two more canvases for the Gagosian exhibition. It wouldn’t be easy to meet the tight time frame, but she wasn’t the only person working day and night for Randolph Dupré.

She added another shadow to her canvas. After what seemed like a few minutes she looked at her watch. Normally she didn’t pay any attention to the time, but today was different. She needed to make sure Daniel was okay. The doctor at the hospital said he had a minor concussion and could sleep as much as he liked, but Holly wasn’t taking any chances.

It had been two hours since he’d first fallen asleep. Every half hour she had gone downstairs to check on him, but he hadn’t stirred.

She smiled when she thought of the man sleeping on her sofa and the change that sleep brought to his face. He looked younger, less worried. He looked like a person who could melt her heart without even trying.

She turned her music down and left her brush on the tray. She’d check Daniel, then do another hour of painting before she made herself a cup of coffee.

“I wondered where you’d gone.”

Holly jumped. “You scared me. How did you manage to walk upstairs without the floorboards squeaking?”

“I’m a master of deception. Just ask my sister. We used to pretend we were the two Houdinis. Mom and dad thought we were crazy, especially when I tried to saw Elizabeth in half.”

Her eyes widened. “I hope you’re joking.”

To Holly’s surprise, Daniel shook his head. “Our Golden Labrador probably saved my sister’s life. If she hadn’t barked so hard, dad might not have come outside to see what was going on. Seeing me with a saw in my hand must have terrified him.”

“And now look at you. If you want to use a saw, you could cut down one of the trees on your property. You could even build a log cabin with the wood.”

“Is that a subtle hint that it would make a great art studio for teenagers?”

“We’ve already got the best place in town for our workshop. Your loft is going to be fantastic. There’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“Hannah and Claire have already decided to move in with you. I don’t like your chances of finishing the weekend without at least one of them borrowing your loft space.”

“I guess we’ll see what happens.”

Holly put her hands on her hips and stretched. “My studio isn’t as grand as your loft, but it suits me fine.”

Daniel wandered around the room.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I’m better after having a sleep. Thank you for the use of your sofa.”

“Sometimes getting a few hours’ sleep is better than any painkillers.”

“Believe me,” Daniel said with a sigh. “Painkillers are better.” He walked across to the canvas she’d been painting. “This is amazing.”

“Thank you. I’ve still got a long way to go, but I’m pleased with how it’s turning out. It’s one of the paintings I’m sending to San Francisco for our exhibition.”

“How many canvases do you work on at a time?”

“It varies. Sometimes three or four. It depends on the complexity of each painting. If there are lots of layers that need to dry, then I tend to start a new painting so that I’ve always got something to work on. The landscapes are slightly different. I’m rotating my time between four paintings to get them ready for the exhibition.”

“Do you ever forget where you’re up to?”

“That would be like going on vacation with your children and leaving one of them behind. If I can’t lose myself in a painting, then come back to it the next day, there’s something wrong.”

Daniel moved some magazines off a chair and sat down. “I’m not sitting down because I’m tired. I’m just sitting down. Tell me about H. Jones. Did you always enjoy painting or was it something you discovered you were good at when you were older?”

Holly thought about her childhood. “Mom bought me my first paint set when I was seven years old. I thought I was so grown up.” She remembered taking her paint set to school and dazzling her classmates with a picture of a tiger.

She walked across to the basin she’d installed on the corner of her studio. “By the time I’d finished high school I’d read every book about art that I could find. It didn’t matter whether it was a history of Impressionists or a book on working with pastels. I started experimenting with different techniques and different styles. Mom worked full time, so Mia and I stayed after school and painted in the school’s art room. It was a fun time.”

She poured a glass of water for Daniel and one for herself. “Mia’s granddad used to send us all kinds of paints and stretched canvases. He knew we both loved painting.”

“Had Nick moved to Bozeman by then?”

“No. He was still in New York. He didn’t move to Bozeman until Mia and I were at college. He’s so proud of his granddaughter. She’s the only one in their family who’s remotely interested in art.”

“What did your parents think of your paintings?”

“Mom was incredibly proud. She went to my American exhibitions.” Holly took a sip of water, hoping her answer was enough for Daniel. But she should have known better. He was waiting for her to continue; to tell him about her father. The man who’d abandoned his family.

“And your dad?”

She took a deep breath. “My dad left us when I was six years old.”

“It must have been hard.”

“It was in the beginning, but after a while you fill the hole in your life with something else.” And by coincidence, she’d filled her life with the one thing she had in common with her father—art.

Daniel left his glass on a table. “Is that why you use your mother’s maiden name for your paintings?”

“It’s part of the reason. My dad is a well-known artist. I wanted my work to stand on its own merit and not live in the shadow of his.”

“You wouldn’t be the only person who’s done that.”

Holly knew she wasn’t, but she didn’t want to talk about her father. After all these years, it still hurt to know that he hadn’t cared enough to stay. “Tell me about your family. Where does your love of computers come from?”

Daniel laughed. “I wouldn’t say I love working with computers. It’s more the programming behind them that fascinates me. Apart from wanting to be Houdini, I enjoyed pulling things apart and putting them back together. When I was working at NASA my job was to troubleshoot potential problems and solve them before they happened. It was a more grown-up version of what I used to do when I was younger.”