Destiny glanced at Ben. “It’s up to you.”
He feigned shock. “Really?”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Destiny scolded. “It is your work.”
Ben faced Kathleen. “I’ll make you a deal. When we take Destiny home, I’ll go down and have a look. If they’re not too awful, you can see them.”
Kathleen was beginning to lose track of all the bets and deals they’d made, but this one was definitely too good to pass up.
“Deal,” she said eagerly. “Who gets to decide if they’re awful?”
“I do,” he said at once.
“I want an independent appraisal,” she countered. “Destiny, will you do it?”
“Happily,” Destiny said at once. “Though I can already tell you the outcome. The paintings are quite wonderful. If they hadn’t been, I would have destroyed them to protect his reputation.”
“Oh, yes, you’re definitely independent,” Ben retorted. “I don’t think so. If it were up to you, I might as well just let Kathleen head over there now.”
Kathleen held out her hand. “That’s okay by me. Let me borrow the key.”
“You can wait a couple of hours,” he told her, his gaze clashing with hers, then filling with sparks of genuine amusement.
“Besides,” he added lightly. “The anticipation will be good for you.”
Kathleen had a hunch he was no longer talking just about the wait to see those wall panels. The sexual tension simmering between them was its own sweet torment. She had a feeling once that was unleashed, neither of their lives would ever be the same.
Ben was still shocked that Destiny had gone to such lengths to save the murals he’d done years ago in his bedroom. He considered it a crazy, sentimental act, even if she thought she was merely showing amazing foresight. He couldn’t help feeling a certain amount of pride and anticipation, though. It had been years since he’d even thought of those early paintings. Getting the chance to see them again was an unexpected treat.
Still, he hesitated at the top of the steps to the basement. Kathleen was right on his heels, since they’d all conceded that Destiny was going to overrule any objections he might formulate to letting Kathleen see the wall panels.
“If you’re not going to walk down those stairs, get out of my way,” she told him impatiently.
“Don’t rush me.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid,” he retorted sharply.
“Then why are we still up here?”
“Because there’s this nagging art expert dogging every step I take. These paintings could be awful,” he said. “I’m not sure I want to expose them to your critical eye.”
“You agreed,” she reminded him.
“In a moment of weakness.”
Kathleen tucked a hand under his elbow and dragged him back into the kitchen. She gazed at him with disconcerting intensity.
“Are you really worried that I’ll criticize them? Or are you more worried about your own reaction? Believe me, I know what it’s like to realize that your own art doesn’t measure up.”
He regarded her with surprise. “You do?”
“Why do you think I’m running a gallery rather than painting myself? Once I realized that nothing I put on canvas would ever be good enough, it was either choose another field of work entirely or choose to live on the fringes of the one I loved.”
Ben wasn’t sure which part of that to tackle first. “Sweetheart, you’re not on the fringes. You’re right in the thick of things. Your gallery has quite a reputation for discovering new artists.”
Astonishment lit her eyes. “How do you know that? Did Destiny tell you?”
He laughed. “I can use the Internet. I’ve poked around a bit to look at the articles that have been written about your shows.”
“Why?”
“Call it curiosity.”
“About me? Or about whether I could be trusted to adequately represent your work?”
“About you,” he admitted. “The other is a nonissue.”
“It won’t be forever,” she retorted, then tilted her head and studied him. “So, did you discover anything about me reading those articles?”
“That you have an excellent eye for talent, that you’re a savvy businesswoman and that you’re very mysterious about your personal life.”
She laughed. “That’s because I don’t have one.”
Ben wondered if that was the opening he’d been waiting for. He decided to seize it. “You did, though.”
She frowned at him. “Nothing worth talking about,” she said tightly. “Are we going downstairs or not?”