"So you're my mechanic, landlord, and housekeeper. I'm a lucky man. Who exactly do I call if my sink backs up?"
"You open the closet and take out the plunger. If you need instructions for use, I'll write them down for you. Here's the fork."
Nathan bore right and climbed. "Let's try that again. If I wanted to grill a couple of steaks, chill a bottle of wine, and invite you to dinner, who would I call?"
Jo turned her head and gave him a cool look. "You'd have better luck with my sister. Her name is Alexa."
"Does she fix carburetors?"
With a half laugh, Jo shook her head. "No, but she's very decorative and enjoys invitations from men."
'And you don't?"
:,Let's just say I'm more selective than Lexy."
"Ouch." Whistling, Nathan rubbed a hand over his heart. "Direct hit."
,, just saving us both some time. There's Sanctuary," she murmured.
He watched it appear through the curtain of rain, swim out of the thin mists that curled at its base. It was old and grand, as elegant as a Southern Belle dressed for company. Definitely feminine, Nate thought, with those fluid lines all in virginal white. Tall windows were softened by arched trim, and pretty ironwork adorned balconies where flowers bloomed out of clay pots of soft red.
Her gardens glowed, the blooms heavy-headed with rain, like bowing fairies at her feet.
"Stunning," Nathan said, half to himself. "The more recent additions blend perfectly with the on ginal structure. Accent rather than modernize. It's a masterful harmony of styles, classically southern without being typical. It couldn't be more perfect if the island had been designed for it rather than it being designed for the island."
Nathan stopped at the end of the drive before he noticed that Jo was staring at him. For the first time there was curiosity in her eyes.
"I'm an architect," he explained. "Buildings like this grab me right by the throat."
"Well, then, you'll probably want a tour of the inside."
"I'd love one, and I'd owe you at least one steak dinner for that."
"You'll want my cousin Kate to show you around. she's a Pendleton," Jo added as she opened her door. "Sanctuary came down through the Pendletons. she knows it best. Come inside. You can dry off some and pick up the keys."
she hurried up the steps, paused on the veranda to shake her head and scatter rain from her hair. she waited until he stepped up beside her.
"Jesus, look at this door." Reverently, Nathan ran his fingertips over the rich, carved wood. Odd that he'd forgotten it, he thought. But then, he had usually raced in through the screened porch and through the kitchen.
"Honduran mahogany," Jo told him. "Imported in the early eighteen-hundreds, long before anyone worried about depicting the rain forests. But it is beautiful." she turned the heavy brass handle and stepped with him into Sanctuary.
"The floors are heart of pine," she began and blocked out a una bidden image of her mother patiently paste-waxing them. "As are the main stairs, and the banister is oak carved and constructed here on Desire when it was a plantation, dealing mostly in Sea Island cotton. The chandelier is more recent, an addition purchased in France by the wife of Stewart Pendleton, the shipping tycoon who rebuilt the main house and added the wings. A great deal of the furniture was lost during the War Between the States, but Stewart and his wife traveled extensively and selected antiques that suited them and Sanctuary."
"He had a good eye," Nathan commented, scanning the wide, high-ceilinged foyer with its fluid sweep of glossy stairs, its glittering fountain of crystal light.
"And a deep pocket," Jo put in. Telling herself to be patient, she stood where she was and let him wander.
The walls were a soft, pale yellow that would give the illusion of cool during those viciously hot summer afternoons. They were trimmed in dark wood that added richness with carved moldings framing the high plaster ceiling.
The furnishings here were heavy and large in scale, as befitted a grand entrance way. A pair of George 11 armchairs with shell-shaped backs flanked a hexagonal credence table that held a towering brass urn filled with sweetly scented lilies and wild grasses.
Though he didn't collect antiques himself-or anything else, for that matter-he was a man who studied all aspects of buildings, including what went inside them. He recognized the Flemish cabineton-stand in carved oak, the giltwood pier mirror over a marquetry candle stand, the delicacy of Queen Antic and the flash of Louis XIV. And he found the mix of periods and styles inspired.
"Incredible." His hands tucked in his back pockets, he turned back to Jo. "Hell of a place to live, I'd say."