His pencil swirled, giving life to her luscious lips, the ones he'd tasted and craved with a soul-deep need. Dammit, that was the problem. He was so focused on the physical, on his desire-on himself rather than her-that he couldn't see beneath the surface of what he drew.
He nearly crushed the pencil and pad in his fist. This always happened, this moment where his frustration at his poor skills made him want to rip out the pages just the way his father had and burn them to ashes.
Knowing he wouldn't be able to see beyond his memories tonight-or his desire for Charlie-he tossed aside the pad. But he did know one thing for certain, knew it even without drawing her. Charlie badly needed a cure for her mother's pain. There had to be some treatment-an operation, an advanced drug, something that would help. He might not have been able to fix his parents, but he'd spent his life trying to make up for that by building an empire facilitating positive change for as many people as he could.
He had all the money in the world to find the best doctors and the best medicine. He would find a way to help Charlie's mother. And maybe knowing her mother had every dime of his billions working for her would clear the roadblocks from Charlie's path to achieving her true potential.
She had already brought him more than she could know, first by letting him watch her creative mind take flight in the lobby of his building. Though he would never be an artist himself, it was incredibly satisfying just to be near one of her caliber. And then she'd given him so much again tonight, listening to every word about his parents, and knowing just the right thing to say when he needed it. She'd been there for him in a way no other woman ever had.
Charlie might think she was the one who needed him. But Sebastian already knew the truth.
He was the one who needed her.
CHAPTER NINE
Charlie got up early Saturday morning, planning to don her overalls and work boots first thing. But how could she resist luxuriating in a shower that had two heads and practically massaged her scalp? And, honestly, she would have been a fool not to make the most delicious coffee in a contraption that added whipped cream, chocolate, and Almond Roca syrup. But though the fridge was stocked and she could have cooked for a week out of the staples in the cupboards, she made herself settle for cereal with fresh blueberries. It was time to get out to her fabulous new studio before she frittered away the whole morning in luxury.
As soon as she walked in, she got to work hooking up the MIG, the TIG, and the compressor, hanging her tools on the pegboards, and setting out her barrels of nuts, bolts, and screws. This was always what she taught her students-to start each project by being as organized as possible. Because once the vision kicked into overdrive, you wouldn't want it to end up flying out of your brain because you had to stop to look for something in your workshop.
That was when she found the barrel of plastic monkeys Sebastian must have slipped in. Laughter bubbled up and over, joining the desire that was still humming inside her from the night before. Her lips tingled from his kiss, and she swore she could smell him too-that luscious, sexy smell all his own.
"Okay, it's time to get to work," she chided herself.
"You know what they say about all work and no play."
She darn near jumped out of her steel-toes. "You scared me." She put her hand to her chest, her heart beating hard and fast, and not just from fright. He really was the most beautiful man she'd ever set eyes on, yummy enough to eat. His white polo shirt showed off his tanned, muscular arms. Moments before, her fingers had itched to start a few welds, but now all she could think about was kneading his flesh like a purring cat.
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."