Someone Irresistible (8 page)

She rubbed her temples with her fingertips. Stupid woman. Or maybe just stupidly obsessed.

A blend of rustling skirts and footsteps echoed in the hallway suddenly, and Mimi turned to the doorway, her pulse quickening as the sound grew louder. At last he was here, she knew, because Stella had been given instructions that she not be disturbed in her studio until Professor Price arrived. She glanced again at the clock. Thirty-four minutes past eleven. The man needed a lesson in timeliness.

“I beg your pardon, Mrs. Sinclair,” came Stella’s voice, only slightly shading her curiosity. “Professor Price is here.”

Then, before she could respond to her maid, in he walked, all six marvelous feet of him, filling the room with his broad shoulders and commanding presence as if he belonged there, a black leather case tucked under one arm. Today he wore casual clothing, a gray linen shirt, buttoned conservatively, navy trousers, and the same work boots he’d worn yesterday. He’d also finally received a haircut, though it was still a little too long in back to be considered fashionable in the upper circles of society. But if visiting his barber had put him late for their meeting this morning, she would forgive him. He was just so terribly handsome, and the trimming did wonders for his overall appearance. Then his clear, brilliant eyes drew her attention away from everything else, and for a moment she was dumbstruck, as she typically was at the first sight of Nathan. Still, refusing to let it show, she planted a pleasant smile on her lips and nodded once to her almost-grinning maid.

“We wish to work undisturbed, Stella,” she said a bit sternly. “We will take luncheon at one o’clock.”

Stella’s expression went properly flat, and she curtsied slightly before offering a humble, “Yes, ma’am,” to her employer. Then she quit the room.

Nathan stood silently, obviously waiting for her to invite him in to sit.

“Well, Nathan,” she began through a long, exaggerated exhalation,

“I’m so glad you could make it today.”

“Mimi,” he drawled, eyes narrowing, “I’m so very glad I could, too.”

His deeply smooth voice made her shiver inexplicably and, she hoped, unnoticeably. But she substituted that reaction in favor of her annoyance at his late arrival.

Smiling pertly, she clasped her hands behind her back. “You look…

well this morning.”

Now a brow rose faintly. “As do you.”

“I was rather hoping you’d be here sooner,” she pressed for detail.

He nodded as if he expected this. “I apologize for keeping you. I had

a scheduled breakfast with Justin Marley this morning and it ran late. I should have mentioned that yesterday when you so unexpectedly graced me with your lovely presence.”

She wasn’t sure if that was a cutting criticism of her intrusive visit to his residence, or just a simple compliment. It was offered so blandly, however, that it made her shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Oh, I see,” she acquiesced. “I hope your breakfast with Mr. Marley was engaging, then.”

He tipped his head toward her. “It was, thank you.”

He had yet to offer any word of conversation, or look around the room, and the way he was gazing at her so frankly made her a bit anxious. She wore her usual modest gray work dress, but he scanned her up and down, his eyes pausing a trifle too long at her bosom.

For a reason unclear to her Nathan seemed overly fascinated with her breasts. His eyes strayed there every time they met, which in turn made her insides liquefy sinfully. She didn’t understand his preoccupation with them, frankly. Carter had never been so tempted by her breasts, and had actually preferred her female parts a bit below them—incessantly and sometimes deliciously, she remembered now.

Immediately, she felt her body heat along with her maddening sexual thoughts—thoughts no lady should consider, especially in the presence of a man who was not her husband.

“Would you care to get started, Nathan?” she asked after a firm clearing of her throat and a soft shake of her head to free her mind, ignoring the flush he surely noticed in her cheeks.

His knowing, boyish, half-grin made her knees go weak, but thankfully he stopped staring at her at last and took his first few steps into the room, finally regarding his surroundings. With unwarranted nervousness, she followed his gaze.

Her studio was typical of a sculptor’s, square by design, similar to a conservatory in structure, with windows on part of the angled ceiling, connecting to those on the west wall. This brought in a good amount of natural light, which she preferred to work by, from late morning till dusk. On the north wall were cupboards and racks for storage, drawers containing tools of various kinds, and a small broom closet where she kept cleaning materials. Opposite, in front of the south wall, stood an airtight, metal box for clay, alongside a double, wide-opening door that led to the garden entrance. This she used for moving large pieces from the house to the street, where they could then be carried to museums, should the need arise. Her room also contained a trash bin and flat

work station beside the sink on the east wall, next to the doorway leading to the main house. The settee sat quite cozily in front of the window, but she’d moved her old worktable, on which now sat the Pteranodon fossil, to the far corner, where both would remain until it was time to sculpt.

She’d also picked the place up a bit for Nathan’s visit, though she noted suddenly that dust still sprinkled the floor in corners, several fossil samples sat conspicuously on the counter top, and her most recently used papers and tools remained scattered beside the sink. She was never born to be a housekeeper, and certainly it was her workshop to do with as she pleased. This was the first time, in fact, that she felt slightly embarrassed about its somewhat sloppy appearance. But then as a man, Nathan probably wouldn’t notice these things.

“Quite a complete and functional workshop, you have,” he commented after a moment, without a trace of sarcasm in his voice.

“Impressive.”

Mimi felt the tension lift from her shoulders a little, and she smiled in a measure of pride. “Thank you. I’ve grown rather fond of the room, myself. It’s the only place in my home that I feel is totally mine to do with or keep as I like.”

“Meaning… cluttered to your taste?”

He’d noticed. But at least he seemed amused by it, not repelled.

“Sometimes,” she admitted, disguising her abashment with a casual air.

He nodded and looked back at her. “Did Carter not spend much time in here, then?”

He always managed to bring Carter into the conversation, and it made her hesitate before answering, wondering why he did that, or why he cared. “No, not really,” she replied slowly, her smile reduced with her thoughtfulness. “Most of the time he was bored with the notion of my desire to sculpt, although he allowed me the time to do as I pleased.”

Providing her duties as his wife came first, but she didn’t feel it appropriate to mention that to Nathan. He’d probably assume as much.

“Did he know you sculpted dinosaurs for your father?”

“No,” she said at once. “He knew I helped my father from time to time, but I didn’t really begin doing complete dinosaur sculptures until after my husband’s untimely death.”

He waited, staring at her candidly, then said, “I suppose that was all for the best.”

She didn’t know how to take that; his tone held no color, but his

words held a world of meaning. Before she could respond, however, he began to walk toward her, turning his attention to the black leather case he carried at his side.

“I’ve still got a few notes that weren’t stolen two and a half years ago,” he remarked coolly, his manner direct. “Thank God they were in my office at the time, but they’re hardly complete. We’ll more or less have to start from the beginning.” He glanced up again as he stood at her side at last. “Where do you want me, Mimi?”

He smelled heavenly—clean, with the lingering scent of musky soap.

He’d obviously had a bath this morning, too, and her first thought was that he could sit next to her all day if he wanted. She wouldn’t put it quite like that to him, however.

“You’ll need to be close while I’m sketching,” she answered nonchalantly, brows furrowed, fingers squeezing her knuckles as she glanced over her studio. “So you can watch to make sure I draw dimensions properly. I suppose the settee will be adequate.”

“Indeed,” he said, only hinting at a sudden underlying amusement.

“It appears to be all we have, anyway.”

Then why did you ask
? she wanted to blurt, but didn’t out of courtesy. Instead, she turned away from him, grinning to herself, pleased he’d decided not to argue but not wanting him to know that.

From the edge of the counter top she grabbed her large sketching pad and a charcoal pencil, then settled into the cushioned seat of the settee.

He followed and sat after she did, beside her, his leather case on his lap.

Mimi adjusted her body so that she wasn’t touching him knee to shoulder, although her skirts blanketed his right leg, which he didn’t seem to mind. She hoped he appreciated how difficult it was for her to keep her distance like that, as well, since the settee was especially small with him in it.

She peeked up at him sideways. He sat perfectly straight, facing forward, and didn’t interject the fact that they’d both likely be more comfortable if they had separate chairs. That filled her with a guilt-laden rush of satisfaction.

He unfastened the gold snaps on his case, reached inside, and removed four or five papers. Then he lowered the case to the floor while studying the pages in front of him in earnest as he organized them. She clutched the pencil in her lap and tried to remain focused on the work ahead.

“The Megalosaurus was an enormous beast,” he began, “larger even than the Iguanodon. There’s some debate as to whether he stood upright or bent over, especially when he walked, but how he walked has

yet to be proven, and it’s doubtful that it ever will be. We’re fairly certain he was a meat eater, and I believe he was, given the shape and size of his teeth—” he turned his paper over, studying it— “each one sort of like a wild cat’s, curved with cutting notches on the edges, and about four and a half inches long.”

He handed her the page, and she took it. Definitely a rough drawing, but she supposed it looked remotely like teeth.

“This looks as if his teeth were imbedded in the jaw,” she offered. “Is this how you want it portrayed in the model?”

“Yes, actually,” he said, eyes opening wide, a bit taken aback by her keen observance. “The jawbone stolen from me showed this to be obviously so, and that’s exactly how I want the model. Megalosaurus means ‘great lizard,’ but in point of fact its teeth were imbedded like a crocodile’s, unlike those of the Iguanodon that were more precisely like the teeth of a common lizard. Ultimately, as more Megalosaur fossils are discovered, scientists will continue to be confounded by this, I believe. I find it merely fascinating.”

“Scientists do tend, as a whole, to be stuck in their beliefs, don’t they?”

He nodded, frowning. “Foolish, I think, but then my forward thinking approach hasn’t always won me honors and accolades.”

Mimi smiled, charmed by his bluntness, his eagerness, and especially his desire to discuss this with her as if she were not a simple female but an interested individual with an understanding of scientific notions.

Then again, maybe he was just concerned that she get his drawings and model correct. She would probably never know for sure.

“I don’t think anyone will ever be able to prove how fast the Megalosaurus itself could move,” he continued looking back at his notes, “even under the best conditions. Most paleontologists think he was a very, very slow mover, given that he was extremely large and, as most believe, reptilian in nature.”

“It would be a monumental achievement if you could prove them wrong, Nathan,” she maintained, a mischievous tinge of excitement in her words. “That would certainly return you to the forefront of the scientific world, forward thinking theories and all.”

He shifted his attention to her once more, his intelligent eyes examining her closely as he took in every feature of her face, lingering for a moment on her lips, her cheekbones and forehead, her carefully plaited hair now coiled atop her head. Then he met her gaze again, and such frank, probing assessment made her flush warm to her toes.

“It would most probably be impossible to prove,” he countered, his

voice contemplative, quietly intense. “But now that I have you and your talent at my side and disposal, Mimi, I won’t need to.”

That, with its multitude of hidden meanings, made her stomach flutter. For a second she thought he might lift a hand and touch her cheek, run his thumb slowly across her lips as he had that night in Hyde Park. Wishful thinking on her part, evidently, for his eyes darted quickly back to his notes.

‘I’ve drawn a sketch of how I envision the beast, based on the various fossils I and others have discovered,” he said, pulling out another sheet from the stack. “A few parts of the Megalosaurus have been found and pieced together, but as far as I’m aware, I’m the only one to discover the completely intact fossil structure of an entire head. Since I’m a deplorable artist, I’ll let you have a go at copying my drawing.”

She was distinctly aware of the underlying mixture of pride, accomplishment, and sadness in his words but decided against making any remark. Instead, she reached for the sketch he passed to her, lowering it to her lap to study his own depiction of the lizard. He was right; he was a horrible artist.

“It shouldn’t be too difficult to work with,” she lied after a moment, turning the page around in her hands. “But I do think you should be here while I do so. I won’t be able to make mistakes if you’re sitting beside me and observing my actions, Nathan.”

“There’s nowhere else I need to be, Mimi,” he murmured softly in swift return. “And of course watching you work should prove both enjoyable and engrossing.”

At those words, she refused to look at his face, now only an inch or two from hers, because she knew he would be able to detect subtleties and perhaps even advances not only from her previous statement, but in her eyes, regardless of whether those advances were there. She was smart enough to realize that if she looked at him often, or for long, he’d see very plainly the core of her long-felt attraction to him.