The painting on the easel caught her attention as soon as she opened her eyes. It was no longer complete, but rather was the beginning of what she feared would be a series of works. The dark shadow from this painting now had substance. Cain was real to her now and no longer a night phantom.
Her emotions always found their way onto the blank canvas and already her brain was picturing and discarding many possibilities. Idly, Katie picked up a dry brush and tapped it against her chin as she was drawn into the painting. She needed to see more of him this time. Removing the finished canvas, she propped it next to the wall where she had a clear view of it. She grabbed a fresh, blank canvas and positioned it on the easel.
A loud knock on the door made Katie scowl. She hated to be interrupted when she was working. It was probably just as well, she thought as she lay the brush down. She really needed groceries. Katie opened the door, but kept the chain on as she peeked through the opening.
“Delivery.” A young man in a delivery uniform tapped his foot impatiently as he waited for her to respond.
“But I didn’t order anything,” Katie answered suspiciously. In all the years she had lived here, she had never had a delivery of any kind. “Are you sure you have the right apartment?” It had to be a mistake of some kind.
The young man glanced at his clipboard. “You Katie Wallace?”
Katie nodded hesitantly.
“Then it’s for you.” He laid the box on the floor when she still made no move to open the door. “Look, I just need a signature here.” He thrust the clipboard through the small opening. “The tip has been taken care of. Just sign on line three.”
Katie scribbled her name on the proper line and pushed the clipboard back towards the deliveryman. Glancing down to make sure his paperwork was in order, he turned and hurried away. “Have a nice day,” he muttered as he disappeared down the stairs.
Katie waited until his steps faded and then she cautiously unlocked the door and picked up the large white box. Propping it against her hip, she relocked the door and then carried the package to the coffee table. Carefully, she removed the cover and peeled back the crisp, white tissue paper. She forgot to breathe as she peered down into the box.
Her fingers tentatively reached out to touch the flowers, tempted by their lush, burgundy petals. The box overflowed with long-stemmed roses. There had to be at least two dozen of them and their heady scent filled her nostrils as she took a deep breath. The blood-red roses were a sharp contrast to the one perfect orchid that lay in the center of the box. Its white petals and pale pink center looked all the more fragile surrounded by the roses. It was a gift of sensual promise. Of passion.
A white envelope was tucked into the tissue paper and Katie plucked it out. She didn’t need to open it to know who had sent them. Still, she was curious enough that she opened the envelope and drew out the plain white card. The writing was bold with a masculine bent, making her think that he’d written the message himself. “I’ll call you at midnight,” she read aloud. Nothing else. Not even a signature.
Katie placed the card carefully on the coffee table. She couldn’t decide if the message was more threat or promise. The gift was an extravagant one. Katie didn’t even want to contemplate the cost of the exotic flowers. They were hers and she planned to enjoy them. Grabbing up the box, she hugged it and laughed out loud. She danced her way into the kitchen, her feet shuffling as she swung her hips from side to side. Setting the flowers carefully on the counter, she rummaged around the cupboards for a container to put them in.
Settling on two Mason jars for the roses, she carefully positioned the flowers one at a time in the containers until she was satisfied with their placement. The thorns had been removed and that made the task much easier. She floated the orchid in a Depression glass bowl that she’d found at a thrift store. The pale pink of the glass matched the center of the exotic bloom.
Katie stood back and admired the flowers, enjoying the rich texture and color, and slightly drunk on the heady perfume of the roses. She hugged herself in glee, feeling like a kid on Christmas morning. One at a time, she moved the containers into the living room and placed them in various positions until she found one she was satisfied with. One jar of roses sat on the windowsill, their beauty framed in the morning sun. The other one sat in solitary splendor on the coffee table and the orchid bowl perched alongside her easel so she could admire it while she worked.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she’d promised herself a spicy Italian lunch. Katie glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that almost an hour had passed. It was almost one o’clock.
Reluctantly, she headed for the bathroom. She had to shower, change, and then head out to run her errands. Katie couldn’t resist one last glance behind her as she left the room. The sight of the flowers filled her stomach with butterflies and a feeling of anticipation.
Katie stepped back from the easel and contemplated her latest work. Tipping her head to one side, she examined it from another angle. It was better than good. She’d managed to capture the sheer animal magnetism of the man, his image half-hidden in the shadows while the half illuminated by the streetlamp showed a man of power. A sense of danger and darkness surrounded him, as if he were a predator just waiting to pounce. This was a man who valued control and exerted the power of his will on those around them. She’d had a firsthand lesson in that last night.
Cain’s was not a handsome face, but a strong and a surprisingly sensual one. His hair blended in with the black of the night and fell over the left side of his face. His nose was large and had a bump in the middle, but it suited his face well. His jaw was square and his cheekbones were prominent. But it was his eye that drew her. She’d managed to capture the intensity in his startling green eye.
Her back ached and her fingers cramped as she stood there. Katie groaned and stretched, but her eyes never left her painting. She’d been working for hours. When she’d left the apartment at lunchtime, Katie had planned on a leisurely lunch before running her errands. Instead, she’d grabbed a quick pepperoni and salami sandwich, raced through the grocery store, and hurried home to work. The need to paint Cain was almost overwhelming. Her fingers were itching to paint and she readily succumbed to the temptation.
Satisfied for the moment, Katie cleaned up her brushes and set her supplies to rights. The empty feeling in the pit of her stomach informed her that she had missed supper. She shrugged, unconcerned. It wasn’t the first meal she’d missed. When she was painting, time seemed to disappear as she immersed herself in her work.
The kitchen beckoned and Katie answered the call. She quickly washed her hands and assembled a quick snack of cheese, crackers and slices of crisp green apple. Stopping long enough to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, she carried her booty to the living room.
Sinking into the comfort of the well-worn sofa, she munched on an apple slice as she tilted her head back and closed her eyes. She was tired, but it was good kind of tired. A satisfied kind of tired. She was pleased with her latest effort. One eye popped opened and glanced at the clock. Just after eleven. And she was pleased that she had managed to keep her mind off Cain’s mysterious message.
She shook her head and sat forward. Who was she trying to kid? Cain had filled her thoughts all day. It didn’t matter if she was cleaning, shopping, or painting, her mind continually turned to him. Piling a cracker with cheese, she stuffed it into her mouth and chewed. It would serve him right if she went to bed and turned off her phone.