She looked at the dirt barely holding her truck together. He had a good point. Still, she was wary about agreeing to anything too quickly. Not when she'd been so careful to make sure she could easily take care of herself without depending on a man.
"No strings, Charlie," he reminded her in a soft voice.
She believed him. But what about the strings she might want to tie on at some point in the future? What if she fell for him? What if she let herself believe in him the way he seemed to believe in her already?
Don't borrow trouble, honey. It was something her mother had said to her more than once when they were taking care of her father, and then again when she had to move into the nursing home. Just try to appreciate the good things we already have.
"Thanks, I'd appreciate the loaner," she finally said, giving him a smile to let him know she truly meant it.
"Then we're ready to go." He circled his arm above his head, and a beat later, the helicopter's rotor blades started to whirl.
Sebastian held out his hand, offering her the adventure of a lifetime. Days spent with a billionaire and all his toys. A six-figure commission. Entrée into a glittering world of future art patrons.
There would also be pressure. Pressure to create. Pressure to fit in. And plenty of time to wonder if in the long run Sebastian might not be quite as charmed by her menagerie or her very unique quirks as he seemed to be right now...
No. She wouldn't let herself borrow any more trouble. She couldn't let this chance slip through her fingers just because she was afraid to step into shoes she'd never worn before.
Reminding herself that this was the life any artist in her right mind would die for, Charlie put her hand in his and let him sweep her away.
* * *
Half an hour later, Sebastian brought Charlie's suitcase into the guest bungalow. She'd filled almost an entire semi with her equipment, but she had only one small suitcase.
Sebastian couldn't begin to describe how attractive that was. Not that she needed any help in that department, given that he'd been seriously hard-pressed not to kiss her at least a hundred times this morning.
"I hope you'll be comfortable here."
"Comfortable?" She turned in a circle. "Look at this place. It's huge."
There were four bedrooms that he'd equipped with flat-panel TVs, stereos, game consoles, and computers. The bathrooms all had a large jet tub, sauna, and rain shower. Sliding glass doors opened onto a deck and hot tub. And the kitchen was fully stocked with top-of-the-line appliances.
"I can't stay here for free. I have to pay you rent."
He'd be damned if he took a dollar from her. "I'm providing accommodations so that you're at your best when you're creating. Room and board is part of our deal."
"I don't remember this being part of the deal." She waved a hand. "All the luxury. A brand new truck at my disposal. Helicopter rides."
But he'd seen how much she'd enjoyed it, the way she'd been glued to the window when the pilot had flown them out over the Bay. Once upon a time he'd been floored by the view from above too, but these past few years he was always in a hurry just to get where he was going. Today, however, he'd reveled in her excitement and appreciation.
Thinking how much he'd appreciated the view-and her too-he said, "My truck is safer, this guest cottage is closer to the big workshop here, and the helicopter is easier and faster than sitting in traffic."
"I get all that, but you know it's not what I meant. It's just too much, Sebastian. Too much for some artist that you've hired to build a sculpture for your office building."
She was right about so many things, so flawless in her vision for her sculptures. But she was wrong about this. Nothing was too much for her. And soon, he'd make sure she knew that she deserved everything that would be hers once the rest of the art world finally discovered her incredible talent.
For now, though, he needed to know something. "Is it about the luxury itself? Or because you don't want to feel obligated?"
She frowned. Took a breath, then blew it out. "Honestly, I'm not sure."
"I wasn't born into money." He wanted her to know where he was coming from just as much as she wanted to be understood. He didn't want her to judge him for his wealth or find him lacking because of it. "I don't take any of it for granted. But I've got it now and I enjoy it. And I hope you'll let yourself enjoy it too, Charlie."
He moved to the couch and held out his hand to her, and just as she always had before, she paused. He found himself holding his breath until, finally, she put her hand in his and let him guide her around the coffee table. She was about to sit on the leather sofa when she stopped to remove her boots first. No question about it, his foster mother Susan would love her.
Charlie rubbed her feet on the thick rug as if it were fur, then curled up into the sofa and propped her chin on her hand as she said, "I would never begrudge you your wealth. I know you've worked hard for it. That's not why I'm feeling uncomfortable." She bit her lip as she worked to put her feelings into words for him. "What if I fail?"
He immediately hunkered down in front of her, so close that their heat mingled, forming one aura out of two. She'd been so confident in the lobby of his new headquarters, so sure of herself standing in the doorway of her dilapidated workroom. He hated to think he could have done anything to change that. That he might have done anything to hurt her in any way. Even though they'd only just met a few days earlier, hurting her was the very last thing he wanted to do.
"The money changes your feelings that much?"
"Maybe." She ran a hand over her face. "Or maybe it's just performance anxiety."
"I know we haven't known each other very long," he said slowly, "but I can't imagine you care that much about what people think of you."
"Not people." She paused and he could swear a world of emotions shot through her beautiful eyes and over her stunning face. "You."
"You already know what I think." He smiled at her. "But I'm more than happy to tell you again how magnificent you are."
He'd been hoping to see a smile, but she simply sighed and admitted, "I'm not used to anyone paying me for my work. Especially not the amount you paid."
One hundred thousand dollars honestly wasn't a huge amount to him anymore. But he understood that it meant a hell of a lot to her. Still, he wouldn't allow it to diminish her now, or to strip away her confidence. "Do you want to work for free?"
"No."
He was glad her answer was so quick and to the point. "Then take the space and the luxury I'm offering. And don't worry about anyone's expectations, Charlie. Because I already know you're going to blow them all away."
"How do you do it?" She stared into his eyes. "How do you always know the right thing to say?"
Because I grew up with a father who never did. Sebastian knew firsthand just how important it was for words to heal and inspire, rather than hurt and cut.
But this was about making sure she was okay, not going back into a past he'd already dealt with, so he gave her a different truth. "You make it easy, Charlie."
The smile she gave him now was blindingly beautiful. "Okay. I'll take what you're offering. And I'll stop worrying about expectations. At least," she added with a small uplift of her eyebrows, "until the next time I do."
Even as he laughed at her totally honest response, he knew that it would be so easy-and so damned good-to sweep her up into his arms, carry her into the master bedroom, strip off her clothes, and make love to her the way he'd been fantasizing about ever since he'd first set eyes on her, since the moment her husky laughter had resonated deep inside him.
Though he felt compelled to make sure she didn't think there were any sexual strings attached to the commission, that wasn't the only reason he'd worked like hell to lock down his control. By now, his feelings for Charlie were definitely not along the lines of a simple fling. They had the potential to be big. Big enough that he needed to know more about her, more about how they fit together outside of bed, before they jumped into it. The last thing Sebastian wanted was for him and Charlie to end up destroying each other the way his parents had.
Waiting to have her might very well kill him, but he forced himself to put some distance between them. Rising to his feet, he held out his hand. "Are you ready for the workroom?"
Disappointment flashed in her eyes for a split second, but when she let him pull her to her feet, all traces of hesitation were gone as she said, "Let's get started."
* * *
Charlie stood in the sunbeams streaming down through one of the four skylights in the roof. It sure as heck beat the holes and Plexiglas in her garage that served as her light source.