Page 112 of The Bookshop By the Loch

Corinne’s grim expression fell.

“Anyway.” I reached into my pocket and produced an old piece of paper and pen. I pulled out my phone and copied down Maeve’s details and then jotted down my own. “Please take it and just think about what we’ve said. Thank you for your time and sorry for interrupting your day.”

I walked back to the car.

Maeve’s troubled, pale expression was still set across her face, as she pulled away and drove us back to Bracken Way.

Tobias appeared at Mirror Image on Monday morning, surprising me by arriving just after I did.

He was angling in a large covered portrait, concealed under a sheet of grey canvas.

He gave me a wink that made my stomach spin. “Would you like to take a look at Celeste’s finished portrait then?”

“What a silly question. Oh yes please!”

Tobias shot me a jokey look. “Now be gentle with me please. Us artists have very tender egos.”

“You have an ego but it sure isn’t tender.” I laughed at him.

He pulled a comical face and tugged away the canvas, while performing a verbal drumroll sound.

I clapped one hand over my stunned mouth. “Oh my God, Tobias. It’s… it’s breath-taking!”

In a palette of the softest hues, Tobias had brought Celeste to life. She was seated in her wheelchair, but it faded into the background, unable to compete with the knowing sparkle in her eyes; the soft lines captured on her complexion and around her mouth and the thickness of her white hair, falling back from her expectant face.

I felt as though I could reach out and touch the pearly detail on her icy gown, pouring to the floor and over her feet like a Highland waterfall. A matching bolero glittered over the top of her dress.

And rearing up behind her, like a grand old gent, was Bracken Way Castle, shadowy and mysterious in the background.

For a few moments, I wasn’t able to say anything. It was as though I’d become hypnotised by the striking portrait and Celeste’s thoughtful expression shining out from the painting.

He’d captured the cool but mischievous elegance of her, with delicate brushstrokes and vibrant hues.

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. What do you think? Do you think she’ll like it?” asked Tobias, not able to disguise a glimmer of trepidation.

“Like it?” I studied the painting again. “It’s stunning. She’ll fall in love with it. Maeve will too.”

Tobias’s serious face split into a relieved megawatt grin. “Something tells me you like it as well.”

“Stop fishing for compliments, Mr Black.”

Tobias covered the portrait over again with the sheet of canvas and placed it behind the counter at Mirror Image. “Had any more thoughts about sitting for me?”

My heart revved up. “Oh well… I don’t know.”

Tobias tapped back down the steps from the gallery and leant against the office door frame. “If I can paint a portrait like that of Celeste, imagine what I could do with you.”

Was he saying things like that deliberately? A deeper blush gripped my face.

He kept his handsome expression unreadable. “You know what I mean.”

Was he teasing me?

My conflicting emotions swirled. This didn’t sound like a good idea. Being so close to Tobias as he painted me. His gaze sweeping over me. Shit. What had I promised myself? That I would keep well away from him.

Oh, come on Lexie. I could handle it. I could. He would be painting me, not stripping off.

Oh no! Stop it! Don’t go there. Think about stocktaking. Think about those annoying idiots who fold over the corners of book pages.