Good thing she was still too busy with the rest of the castle to worry about this room. When she found time, she’d want him to paint the walls cream while she artistically arranged flowered rugs and potted plants to make it more homey.
All right, so he wasn’t being fair. Except for her cream walls, she’d done a great job so far.
He’d barely started working when Deimos padded into the room. For once he was glad to see the cat. They had a major issue to deal with—whether Deimos lived or died. “Why the hell did you tell Sparkle those lies?”
Deimos blinked up at him. “You told me to tell her anything I wanted. Hey, I did you a favor. I made you sound like the hottest thing to ever hit the island. Twelve inches, man. Women’ll be lined up along Sea Wall Boulevard once the story spreads. So when are you guys doing it again?” “
“You’re assuming you’ll live to report on it?” He narrowed his gaze on Deimos, and the cat backed up.
“You gotta tell me something.” He padded over to take a closer look at Con’s project. “Or not. I have a great imagination.”
Con took a threatening stride toward him.
Deimos looked a little nervous. “Well, gotta go.” He edged past Con to the door. “Just so you know I’m really an okay guy, I’ll tell you a secret. Mandy’s thinking of staying.” Then he was gone.
She was thinking of staying.
Mandy turned in front of her mirror to get a look at the red dress from all angles.
She’d done a mental tally sheet. Con on one side, New York on the other.
Hmm, the dress didn’t cover very much. Good. It was all swirly and girly, and almost but not quite showed everything. A total tease.
Back to her tally sheet. Con—made her laugh. New York—her career. Con—made her mad, but she got a rush from arguing with him. New York—her career. Con—made her heart pound and her blood run hot. New York—her career. Con—made her feel beautiful, desired, and . . . Hmm . . . she saw a pattern forming here.
Ten years ago, she’d needed New York. She’d believed that true acceptance in the interior design field meant being successful in one of the greatest cities in the world. Did she still need New York? Did she still want New York if it meant leaving Con behind again? She’d pretty much answered that question on their drive back, but she’d needed her tally sheet to make it official.
She slipped on the red sandals she’d bought to go with the dress. Time to take a look at the dungeon. And even as she left her room, walked down the winding steps, hurried across the great hall, and descended the final set of steps to the dungeon, she wondered if Con wanted her to stay.
As soon as she stepped into the dungeon, she started talking. Nerves. The more she cared, the more power Con had to make her babble. “Ugh, I can’t believe this room. Blood, gore, and really gruesome accessories. Can we say unoriginal? I—”
Silence wrapped around her as she saw what Con was working on. A large painting. She moved closer. Right in the middle was . . . ohmigod! Her bare butt. She knew it was hers because it had a blue butterfly on it. Mandy had already opened her mouth to shriek when she looked at Con for the first time. She closed her mouth.
Sure, he looked wary. How else would he look when faced with the Medusa? But there was something else in his eyes. A vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. She took a second look at the mural.
If she could get past her butt, she’d admit he had talent. The scene showed a sunny day, and in the background was a hill with a castle that looked a lot like the Castle of Dark Dreams. In the forefront was a meadow surrounded by trees and filled with bluebonnets. One huge oak dominated the scene. Two lovers lay among the flowers, half hidden behind the tree. Too bad the wrong half was showing. Her bare behind was front and center. For the first time, she took a closer look at the man. There wasn’t as much of him showing, because her bottom hogged the show. But when she looked really close, she saw the black rose on his bare hip.
“And you were inspired to create this why?” She would not shout.
“I started this the first day you arrived. I figured it’d look great on one of the great hall’s walls.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
Over my dry and shriveled corpse. “Uh-huh. I guess that’s why you agreed to the cream walls without a fight.” Maybe she was finally getting a sense of humor about her behind, because the whole thing was kind of funny.
“Well, I figured you deserved to have three walls painted the way you wanted them, because this baby would be hanging on the fourth.” He put down the brush he still held in his hand and moved toward her. “I decided to paint myself into the picture three days ago.”
“This painting yourself into the picture, does it have a symbolic meaning?” She forced herself to breathe normally.
“Yes.” He held her gaze. “I don’t want you out there by yourself. I want to be with you.”
Mandy exhaled the breath she’d sworn she wouldn’t hold. She glanced around the room again. “This room, as gothic as it is, does have possibilities.” She twirled in front of him, and knew exactly what he could see as the skirt flared. Panties were so nonessential in her seduction plans. “I wore my best dress, and I came to play.”
His eyes darkened. “It’s the sexiest dress I’ve ever seen. Take it off.”
“Nope.” She hoped her