Ben chuckled. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate your consideration.”
“Actually she won’t,” Richard conceded with a shrug. “She’ll sit there and grumble and tell me I’m doing it all wrong.”
“Then let her do it,” Ben advised.
“Let her climb a ladder in her condition?” Richard asked with a look of genuine horror. “I don’t think so. I can take three or four nonstop hours of grumbling.”
“Do you even know how to hang wallpaper?” Ben asked curiously.
“No, but how hard can it be?”
Ben smothered a laugh. “I’ll be by tonight.”
“I told you morning’s soon enough.”
“Maybe for the report you want,” Ben agreed. “I’m coming by for the entertainment.”
* * *
She had no business going out to the farm, Kathleen told herself even as she turned onto the country road that led to Ben’s. Destiny’s arrival at the restaurant the other night had been fair warning that the meddling and matchmaking were far from over.
But she’d awakened this morning thinking about Ben—about his art, she corrected, determined to stay focused—and had decided that the only way she’d ever get what she wanted was to keep up the pressure. He’d had two days off now. As distracted as an artist could get, he could easily have forgotten all about her by now.
Before leaving the house, she’d taken an extra hour to bake some of the bear claws she made for the occasional morning receptions she held for the media to meet artists before their shows opened. She told herself she’d baked them because she’d had a sudden craving for one herself, but the truth was it was another bribe. If the man had a sweet tooth, she was not above exploiting it.
Just as she reached the end of Ben’s driveway, she saw a car turning onto the main highway and recognized Richard behind the wheel. She waved at him as he passed and got a friendly wave and a smug grin in return.
Then she turned into the long drive leading up to the secluded house. Not that she was any expert on recluses, but it seemed to her that Ben’s reputation for craving solitude was slightly exaggerated. In the few days she’d known him, he’d had plenty of company right here at the farm and he’d come into town to seek her out. That didn’t sound like any recluse she’d ever heard about.
Still, there was no question that his expression was forbidding when he walked out of the house and spotted her just as she was pulling to a stop beside his studio.
“This place is turning into Grand Central Station,” he complained.
Kathleen gave him a cheery smile. “I was just thinking the same thing. I saw your brother leaving.”
Ben’s scowl deepened. “Great. Just great. That will hit the family grapevine as soon as he can hit speed-dial on his cell phone.”
“Still running scared of Destiny?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Not so much. Besides, I’m here on business, not for pleasure.”
“A distinction I’m sure Richard will make when he reports your arrival before eight in the morning.”
She refused to be daunted. “At least he didn’t catch me going in the other direction,” she said. “Just imagine what he could have made of that.”
Ben sighed, then glimpsed the bag in her hand. His expression brightened marginally. “Have you been baking again?”
“Bear claws,” she told him. “I took a chance you’d like them.”
“Real ones?” he asked incredulously. “With almond paste and flaky pastry? Fresh from the oven?”
She grinned at his undisguised enthusiasm. “As authentic as any bakery’s.”
He snatched the bag from her hand and peered inside, then drew in a deep, appreciative breath. “Oh, my God.” He peered at her curiously. “Why aren’t you married?”
“I was. He didn’t seem to care that much for my baking.”
“Fool.”
Kathleen laughed. “He was, but not because he didn’t like my pastry.” It was the first time she’d ever been able to laugh at anything related to her marriage. She met Ben’s gaze. “Since you’re obviously awed and impressed, are these going to get me into your studio?”
His expression turned thoughtful as he took his first bite. “Fantastic,” he murmured, still not answering her question.
He took another bite, then sighed with seeming rapture. “Incredible, but no.”
Kathleen was tempted to snatch away the rest of the pastries. Instead, she settled for giving him a severe look. “May I ask why?”
He grinned. “You’ve made a slight miscalculation. Don’t worry about it. People are always doing that where I’m concerned. They think I know very little about business, because I’m the artistic Carlton, but I did pick up a thing or two.”
“So?”
“I’ve obviously got something you want, something you want desperately enough to ply me with baked goods. Why would I cave in too quickly, when holding out will get me more?”
Despite her frustration, Kathleen couldn’t help chuckling. “You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.” He gave her a considering look. “But just so your trip won’t be a total waste, how about going over to Richard and Melanie’s with me tonight?”
Kathleen was startled by the invitation. “For?” she asked cautiously.
“We get to watch Richard try to hang wallpaper, while Melanie criticizes him.”
Kathleen laughed. “Oh, hon, I think you’re the one who’s miscalculated. We set foot in there tonight and Richard won’t be hanging that wallpaper alone. You’ll be right in there with him, while Melanie and I sip tea in the kitchen.”
“Want to bet?”
“Sure,” she said at once, always eager to take advantage of an opportunity to best someone who’d just tricked her. “If it turns out the way I predict, you show me at least one more painting. If you win, I bring you the pastry of your choice next time I come.”
He considered the offer, then nodded. “Deal. Oh, and just so you know, we have to take a little side trip past Destiny’s on the way.”
“As in drive past and don’t stop?” she asked hopefully.
“Nope,” he said, sounding oddly happy. “We’re dropping in to do a little snooping. I think it might require a woman’s touch. What time does the shop close?”
“Five-thirty tonight.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up
