"You're quibbling." His voice was impatient. "Look at me, dammit." His fingers were beneath her chin, forcing her to face him. "Now, tell me. You want me, right? Not just any attractive man. Me."
His gaze was holding her own with irresistible force. "Why should I-" She broke off and answered him honestly. "Yes."
He expelled his breath in a long sigh of relief. "Whew, you had me scared for a minute."
"You certainly didn't show it," she said tartly. "I feel as if I've been run over by a steamroller."
He chuckled and released her chin. "I guess I can be a little aggressive on occasion. Just shrug it off and tell me to go to hell. That's what Ross does."
"Not very often, I bet."
"Now that I think about it, he hasn't done it for a long time."
"I imagine he gets tired of being flattened."
For an instant Gideon appeared uncertain, then thoughtful. "I suppose I'll have to see what I can do about that."
Serena threw back her head and laughed. "Here we go again."
His expression was indignant. "Why are you laughing?"
"I can just see you plumping and pumping to unflatten Ross. I think he'd prefer you to let him stay flattened."
"The easy way isn't always the best way and if
Ross needs-" His lips quirked. "You think I'm too pushy?"
"It has occurred to me."
"I'll try to tone it down." He added half beneath his breath, "On the unimportant things."
Serena chuckled and shook her head. "Hopeless."
The limousine had pulled up to the front porch of the two-story stone house and Gideon opened the door and got out. He helped her from the car and whispered in her ear, "Never. There's no one more hopeful than I am."
A hot shiver chased down her spine and she looked away from him to the wide stone porch that fronted the house. "This house looks very old. When was it built?"
"The turn of the century." His glance flew to her face. "You don't mind old houses? I had this one thoroughly restored, and installed all the modern conveniences. I just think old houses have a special ambience."
"I think so too. My friend, Elizabeth, owns an old mill that has a wonderfully warm atmosphere."
"Do you want it?" Gideon asked. "Shall I buy it for you?"
She looked at him in surprise. "She'd never sell it. It's her home."
"I'll find a way."
He probably would find one, if she didn't get him off the track. "Back off, steamroller, perhaps you didn't hear me. She's my friend, and you don't bulldoze friends into the ground." She sighed with exasperation. "Why are we even discussing this? We're talking as if we're going to be together for the next fifty years."
Gideon smiled with satisfaction. "We are, aren't we?" He took her elbow and they climbed the stone steps. "I like that."
"Well, I don't. One week, remember?"
"I remember," he murmured. "Do you like the leaded-glass casement windows? They didn't come with the original house but I thought they fit."
"I think they're beautiful."
A brilliant smile lit his face. "Good. You can change anything that doesn't appeal to you, but I think you'll like most of it." He looked over his shoulder at the driver. "Put the baggage upstairs, Ricardo. Then you can go back to the hotel." He turned to Serena. "I have a maid who comes in every day to clean and cook, but I told her to stay away while you were here. I didn't want her getting in our way, and I figured we could take care of ourselves for a week." He smiled. "There are always omelets. I even had the phone disconnected." He opened the front door. "Welcome home, love."
For Serena, "home" had always been a place to come back to after the frenetic pace of the fashion world, or one of Dane's wild adventures. She had thought she preferred that concept to one of roots and permanency. During the short tour of the house, it became clear that wasn't Gideon's idea of home at all. This was a house in which to grow and change, a house in which to have children, a house to absorb the joys and sorrows of the people who lived within its walls.
Though the furniture was light and airy as befitted the tropical climate, it breathed comfort and color and homeyness. The floors throughout the house were polished to a warm, earthy luster, and even the huge family kitchen combined microwave efficiency with old-world charm. The bedrooms on the second floor were equally charming: canopy beds, delicately tinted Aubusson rugs scattered over gleaming hardwood floors, copper-based lamps, and vases holding fresh flowers. Everything about the house spoke of loving care and comfort.
"It's lovely. I don't wonder you bought it," Serena said sincerely as she looked out the leaded- glass casement windows in the master bedroom at an incredibly beautiful view of the sea in the distance. "It's absolutely perfect."
Gideon smiled delightedly. "That's a relief." He opened the door to the hall with a touch of boyish impatience. "I hate to lure you away from any bedroom just on general principles, but there's still one room you haven't seen yet. Come on, it's right down the hall."
There was a touch of maternal indulgence in her smile as she followed Gideon. Her smile faded as he threw open the door of the room at the end of the hall. "A studio?" She stepped slowly into the room. An artist's studio, completely furnished with everything she could possibly need. Floor-to- ceiling windows allowed sunlight to flood in, and an easel and paints stood in the center of the small room.
"It's been waiting for you, Serena," Gideon said quietly.
She swallowed. "I told you I didn't paint much anymore. Just sketches for my work."
"That doesn't mean you can't begin again. It's all here waiting for you. There are some wonderful views from this hill. The sea can be a thousand different colors at sunset and that lake I mentioned looks like something out of a science fiction novel, wreathed in morning mist. You could start some sketches this evening and-"
"You want me to work during the week I'm here?" Her eyes had widened in surprise. "Aren't you defeating your own purpose?"
"Maybe." His lips twisted. "But it's the perfect opportunity for you to start again. I told you I didn't like the idea of your being robbed of any of your dreams, and I'll be damned if I'll let it go on."
Serena felt the tears sting her eyes. What a touching thing to do. "One week won't help much," she said huskily. "I'm terribly rusty. I haven't actually painted since the first year of my marriage."
"It would be a start." He grinned. "I bet I get you hooked again."
There was no question he was going to try, and Serena felt a sudden thrill of fear. Painting had always been a heady addiction. That was the reason she had stopped when she'd been forced to take up designing to earn a living for Dane and herself. It was a passion that could dominate her life, and blow her present career to bits. "I don't think I'd better… There's not enough time to make it worthwhile."
Gideon's smile vanished. "You're frightened, aren't you? Grabbing onto a dream can be as scary as hell. It's much easier just to drift along with the current." He paused. "But you have to be all you can be, Serena. You have to grab every brass ring and try every road." He crossed the few steps between them to look gravely down into her eyes. His own eyes were deep and glowing and his voice took on tones of velvet persuasion. "This will be good for you, baby. Trust me."
She pulled her gaze away and laughed shakily. "This is not a glass of orange juice. You're steam- rolling again."
"This is one of the important things." He took her chin in his fingers and brought her gaze back to him. "Remember, you promised me a picture. You never painted that picture for me, Serena."
He was wrong. She had painted a dozen pictures for him the first year after she had left him. It had been her only relief during that hellish period. "Do you want me to do a mural for the living room wall?" she asked flippantly.
"No, just one picture, but I want my choice, so you'll have to provide me with a wide selection." He brushed the tip of her nose with his lips. "Landscapes, portraits…"He leered clowningly. "Nudes. I want it all." Something hot and smoky flickered in the depths of his eyes. "All."