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“Nothing. Art is behind me.”
“Then I guess that’s the end of my career.” She sank into the chair.
“What do I have to do with your career?” He had his own problems and didn’t need hers added on.
“I was hoping to persuade you to start showing your art again. I’ve been a fan of your work for years. I’ve kept up with your career. I hoped maybe you would let me represent you.”
“That’s not going to happen.” The words came out harsher than he intended.
“Why not? You’re an amazing artist.” Her eyes darted toward the curtained-off area. Raising her shoulders, she let them drop. “I don’t understand why you’re not working. You have such talent.”
“Because I can’t,” he said sharper than he would have liked.
“Can’t or won’t? You’re cheating the world by not sharing your talent.” She watched him like a cat studying a mouse.
“Are you this pushy with all the artists you wish to represent?”
She settled back in a chair with a loud sigh. “No. I’m just desperate.”
He put another log on the fire. “Why?”
“Because I lost my job with the Antwan Art Agency.”
He waited for her to say more.
“With you as a client I could work for any agency. Maybe even start my own.”
“So you want me to be an avenue to recover your career.” He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
She sat forward. “I want to help us both.”
“I don’t need any help,” he said calmly yet his heart beat faster.
She looked around, her lips tightening with skepticism.
He had the sudden urge to kiss that look off her face.
“It would be a mutually beneficial deal. I would represent you, you could have a great comeback exhibition. Your recent hiatus will increase the value of all your work. You could live someplace nicer than this.”
His brow rose. “Do you have a problem with my home?”
“No. It’s just that this doesn’t look like the person B. Wheeler was nor do you.” Her gaze dropped to his beard.
“Are you being insulting on purpose? Do you talk to all strangers like this?”
“No, somehow you bring it out in me.” A slight grin formed on her lips.
It sent a tingle of awareness to places best left dormant. “I’m sorry about your job. But I can’t help you.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
She was pushing once more. Into a place he refused to go. He looked at the window and the darkness beyond much like his life. “It’s too late for me to return you to the Inn and it’s snowing. You’ll have to stay here for the night. I’ll get you back in the morning.”
Her voice rose to a squeak. “I can’t stay here all night.”
He snarled. “You should have thought about that earlier. It’s getting late. I’m tired. I know you must be from your hike through the woods. Let’s go to bed. I’ll get you back to the Inn first thing in the morning. In time to run over someone else.”
“Funny.” She looked at the bed and back at him.
