Gift of Gold (Gift #1)

Gift of Gold (Gift #1) Page 14

Why, oh why, she wondered once again, did he have to be the wrong sort of man for her?

The question was, of course, unanswerable, so she pushed it aside once more and went back to enjoying the day.

They whiled away Monday afternoon at the lake, and Monday evening Jonas suggested taking in the film that was showing at the only theater in Sequence Springs. Verity realized it had been a long time since she'd been to a film. When she mentioned that to Jonas, he tapped her chin with his lean forefinger and shook his head admonishingly.

"You work too hard," he said.

Verity bristled. "That's a joke, coming from someone who spends his life drifting from one dishwashing job to another." Too late she realized she had come close to spoiling the whole evening.

"What's the matter, little tyrant? Aren't you getting your money's worth out of me?" Jonas taunted far too softly.

Angry with herself for nearly ruining what had been the most pleasant day she had spent in ages, Verity tried an awkward apology. "I didn't say that. I just meant that you and I have a slightly different understanding of the work ethic, that's all. You're content to drift through life and never use your abilities. I don't like to see ability wasted."

"Believe me," Jonas retorted, "the world does not need another professor of Renaissance history. It'll get along just fine without me. Now stop fretting about my lack of future prospects and eat your popcorn. You need a little fattening up."

She grumbled about the greasy, salty popcorn he bought but ended up eating her share. Jonas seemed pleased. She wondered if he would attempt to kiss her again that night and spent a long time trying to decide how to react if he did. She acknowledged to herself that she was actually considering indulging in her first full-blown affair. That thought made her feel light-headed.

The question of a good-night kiss, let alone anything else in that line, did not arise, however. Jonas took her to her door, wished her good night, and loped off to his cabin.

Verity tried to tell herself it was just as well and that she was vastly relieved. The truth was that she was more than a little disgruntled. She felt off balance. She also regretted the derogatory comments she had made about Jonas's lifestyle. If she'd kept her mouth shut she might have wound up having a nightcap and a good-night kiss with her professional dishwasher. Instead, she ended up reading for an hour before she could fall asleep.

Her father had frequently told her that her tongue was her worst enemy, Verity reflected as she turned out her light. Maybe he was right. She had yet to meet a man who didn't run from it.

But Jonas hadn't really run from the sharp-edged sword of her tongue. He had simply sidestepped it, sliding out of the way in the manner of a fencer dodging an opponent's thrust. If she wasn't careful, he might easily slip through her guard with his next move.

Verity just wished she knew whether she wanted to win or lose the battle, On Tuesday the No Bull Cafe reopened for the light but steady weekday crowd that kept it going during the off season. The local people showed up during the week, as did a few tourists who happened to be passing through town and had seen the restaurant mentioned in a guidebook. And as usual, a few spa patrons could be counted on to drift over for lunch or dinner.

Verity managed to keep herself and Jonas busy during the day to prevent any time for awkward moments during which either one of them might be tempted to bring up the subject of their relationship.

Relationship. The very word made her nervous and fretful, Verity decided that evening as she and Jonas closed the cafe. She didn't think that what she and Jonas had at that point qualified as a relationship, and, as far as she could tell, Jonas seemed not to be worrying about the issue at all. In typical male fashion, he appeared blithely unaware of all the soul-wrenching questions that were plaguing her. That annoyed Verity.

She told herself that any man who remained oblivious to the agonizing uncertainty in which she was mired was certainly not a sensitive enough male to interest her. Unfortunately, Verity was intelligent enough to know she was lying to herself. Brains could be a great curse.

But Tuesday brought an unexpected event. Laura called late that afternoon.

"Verity? I want to make reservations for three. Rick and I have a special guest staying at the spa and we want to take her to dinner at your place. Any problem?"

"Nope. I'll put you down for seven. How's that?" Verity opened her reservation book and jotted a note.

"Sounds fine. You'll want to meet our guest, Verity."

"Who is it?"

"Caitlin Evanger." Laura waited for recognition to hit.

" The Caitlin Evanger? Caitlin Evanger, the artist?"

"One and the same," Laura affirmed proudly.

Verity was entranced. "I heard she was a total recluse."

"She is. She's got some physical problems. Apparently she was in a serious car accident years ago and never fully recovered. She came to Sequence Springs to take the waters, as they say in Europe."

"I'll be thrilled to meet her," Verity declared, aware of Jonas listening in on the conversation as he moved around the dining room setting up tables.

"Don't make a big deal out of it," Laura warned. "She hates attention."

"Don't worry. I'll try not to embarrass you with a lot of fawning and groveling. See you at seven, Laura."

Verity hung up the phone and grinned at Jonas. "How about that? We're going to be feeding a famous artist this evening. Caitlin Evanger. Ever hear of her?"

"I think so." Jonas folded a napkin with great precision and placed it properly on the table. "The name is vaguely familiar. I don't think I've ever seen any of her work, though."

"I have," Verity declared enthusiastically. "There was an exhibition of her stuff a few months ago in San Francisco. I went to see it. Her paintings are absolutely fascinating, Jonas. There's this incredible, hard edge to them and yet they're not cold or lifeless. You can almost feel the passion under the surface, but you get the impression that it's a very dangerous passion and therefore it's overlaid with this amazing sense of discipline, if you know what I mean."

Jonas cocked one brow and gave her an odd look. "I think I know what you mean."

Verity felt a slow warmth rising in her cheeks. She wasn't certain she wanted to analyze Jonas's glance.

It seemed safer to change the subject. "Good grief, I wonder if I'd better rethink the dinner menu.

Maybe I should substitute orange and jicama salad for the carrots in dill sauce. Carrots are so ordinary."

"The way you do carrots in dill is anything but ordinary," Jonas said brusquely. "Don't worry about the menu for tonight. I'm sure your celebrity guest will be able to find something on it to suit her."