How To Seduce An Heiress. Heidi Betts

a short time they drove through an exclusive residential area with acres of tall pines and estates set back out of sight. Black wrought-iron gates swung open to allow them entrance.

      She was curious about his home, interested in finding out more about him. When the trees cleared, she saw the sprawling, three-story stone mansion.

      “Garrett, your home is beautiful.” A long narrow pool was centered in the formal gardens in the front yard. Various fountains held splashing water and sunlight spilled an orange glow over the house. Tall, symmetrical Italian pines stood at opposite ends of the wide porch that led to massive double doors.

      The limo halted and the driver held the door as they exited. The door opened before they reached it and Garrett introduced her. “Sophia, meet Terrence, who is my right-hand man. He’s butler and house manager and keeps things running smoothly here. Terrence, this is Ms. Rivers.”

      “Welcome, Ms. Rivers,” Terrence said, stepping back and holding the door wide.

      Garrett took her arm as they entered.

      “Somehow this surprises me. I imagined you in a different type of home,” she said, realizing Garrett had far more wealth than she had thought.

      “Maybe I better not ask what kind.”

      “Something less formal, maybe more Western. Although this mansion has enough rooms to have all types of decor.”

      “I’ll show you my shop and then we’ll find the perfect spot for your painting.”

      He led her down the wide, elegant hall with potted palms and oils in ornate frames hanging on the walls. They entered another wing of the mansion and finally turned into a large paneled room that smelled of sawdust. The terrazzo floor was rust-colored with dark brown stones. Beautiful pieces of furniture in various stages were scattered throughout the room. The framework for an ornate credenza stood on a worktable, above which tools hung. One wall held handcrafted cabinets containing more tools.

      She walked around the room, inhaling the sawdust smell, taking in the furniture in progress, lumber, power saws, a stack of sawhorses. “This is what you love, isn’t it?”

      He stood watching her and nodded. “You’re the first woman who has ever been down here.”

      “I’m honored,” she said.

      “Sophia,” he said and stopped. He stared at her intently.

      “Yes?”

      “I just wondered what you think about all this. Although I suppose I need to show you a finished product before I ask you that,” he replied.

      She had the feeling that he had been about to say something else, and she wondered what it was. The slight frown on his face made her curiosity deepen but she was certain if she asked, she would not get the answer.

      She walked to a table to run her finger along the smooth finish. “This is beautiful, Garrett.”

      “That still needs a lot of work. It’s intended to be a reproduction of a French walnut refectory table. I also enjoy history.”

      “So do you do this when you can’t sleep?” she asked.

      “Do you paint when you can’t sleep?” he said, by way of answering.

      She smiled at him.

      “C’mon. I’ll show you some finished pieces.”

      As they made their way out into the hall, she still felt as if he towered over her—a unique sensation and one she enjoyed.

      They paused by an elegant reproduction of a 19th-century French sofa with embroidered rosebuds in beige damask upholstery. “Here’s a finished piece,” he said.

      She had expected his work to be nice, but this was beyond nice. “Garrett, this looks like a well-preserved antique. It looks like the real thing.” She ran her fingers over the smooth wood. “This is truly beautiful,” she said, impressed. “You could make another fortune from your craft.”

      He smiled. “That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” he said. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You do look stunning, Sophia. Do you mind?” he said while he reached up and pulled a pin out of her hair. Locks spilled on her shoulders as she gazed up at him.

      He stood close, removing pins, causing a gentle tingling sensation on her scalp. She looked at his mouth and her heart drummed. She wanted him to kiss her right now and was tempted to pull him to her.

      Instead, she kept quiet while Garrett finished and her hair cascaded across her shoulders. She moved her head slightly, shaking out her hair and letting it swirl across her shoulders. She still watched him while he gazed into her eyes. His attention shifted to her mouth.

      “Garrett, show me more of your work,” she said, her voice breathless. She wanted his kisses, yet she felt she should resist and have some control. Garrett had come into her life like a whirlwind and she needed to show some resistance before he totally uprooted her career and schedules. Deep down, she had an instinctive feeling that Garrett was more than just an appealing man who excited her.

      “Better yet, come with me and I’ll show you where I want to hang your painting. There are two possible rooms—one is the billiard room, the other is a large living area. I entertain there and it’s not as formal as some of the other rooms.”

      She followed him down the wide hall. “You really need a map for this mansion.”

      He smiled. “Your place wasn’t small either.”

      “I’m so accustomed to it, I don’t give a thought to the size.”

      “Nor do I.” He motioned toward open double doors. She entered a large room that had two glass walls. One end of the room bowed out in a sweeping glass curve, giving the room light and a sensation of being outdoors. The other end featured a massive brick fireplace. Leather furniture and dark fruitwood lent a masculine touch.

      “This is a livable room. Very comfortable,” he said. “I’m in here a lot.” He led her across the room and she saw a familiar painting she had done a year earlier.

      “I like it there,” she said, looking at her painting on his wall with others in a grouping. “A prominent spot in a room you like and live in. Now you can think of me when you see it,” she added lightly, teasing him.

      “I’ll always think of you when I see it,” he said, his solemn tone giving a deeper meaning to his words.

      “Sure you will,” she said, laughing. “Is this the room where you’d like to hang the other painting?”

      “Yes, possibly. Where do you think it should go?”

      Aware of his attention on her, she strolled around the room, selecting and then rejecting spots until she stopped. “I think this is a good place.”

      “It is. One other possibility you should consider is over the hearth. It’s a sizable painting. I think it fits this room.”

      “That would be the most prominent spot in the room,” she said, surprised and pleased.

      “I think it would look good there.” He shed his coat. “Let me hold it up and see what you think.”

      She watched as he picked up the painting and held it in place.

      She smiled at him. “It looks great there. Are you sure?”

      He grinned. “I’ll get tools and hang it.”

      “What can I do?” she asked.

      “Let’s have a drink and you can supervise the hanging.”

      “I can get the drinks,” she said, moving to the bar in the corner of the room. “What would you like?”

      “I think I’ll have beer.”

      “And I’ll have red wine,” she stated. While she got a wineglass