Someone Irresistible by Adele Ashworth Page B

arranging necessary tools, I’m going to study the drawings we made yesterday and consider how best to copy them into small clay models.”
    He relaxed beside her now, feeling the heat of her body and smelling that spicy woman scent of hers. “I see.”
    “Later I’ll take the best one and make it life-size.” she continued, pulling up two small wooden chairs for both of them to sit at the table,
    “though since we’re not making a whole dinosaur, this shouldn’t take too long.”
    “Good,” he added, noting the contour of her ear and that she wore no jewelry. And was that a birthmark beneath the lobe? A tiny pink oblong mark the size of—
    “Most sculptors use wooden spoons, knives, rolling pins, and such to work with,” she informed him easily, pushing her tools to the side of the table and sitting in her chair. “I’ll use those for the first miniature clay models, then move to larger items for the actual life-size model you’ll need for the dinner party.”
    “Mmm.” He sat beside her, in his chair, folding his arms over his chest again and leaning back, observing that her lashes were quite dark compared to the color of her hair. It made the brownness of her irises stand out, which of course was why they were so noticeable even at a distance. Her eyes were the loveliest part of her face, really. Or at least the most striking.
    “Now,” she continued in explanation, sitting squarely, “when we get to the life-size model, we’ll no longer use clay for construction, but what we need of bricks, iron columns and hoops, tiles and concrete. The sculpture of the finished jawbone will be quite large, naturally, which is why I have a door to the garden entrance. That’s how we’ll transport everything from the house.”
    “Fascinating,” he murmured, observing her closely as she rolled up her sleeves to start. Again he was taken with the small bones of her wrists, the smoothness of her pale skin, the length of her fingers and her short, tapered nails. The fact that such smooth, delicate hands and fingers could make prized sculptures amazed him.
    “Nathan?”
    He blinked and glanced up. She was looking at him strangely, and then he realized she’d asked him a question. “Pardon?”
    Her pink lips turned up minutely. “I asked you if you wanted to help with the initial sculpting.”
    That surprised him, but what else was he to do? And it would, in fact, give him the opportunity to sit by her side and smell her all day.
    He leaned forward and placed his forearms on the tabletop, never dropping his gaze from hers. Softly, he replied, “I was hoping you’d ask.”
    That took her aback. Or confused her. She straightened even more,
    pulling away from him a little, her forehead creasing into two tiny lines.
    “Really? Well—good. Let’s get started, then, shall we?”
    She turned her attention to the clay at her fingertips, dug in, and handed him a chunk of it. He had no idea what to do with it, so he followed her actions and began massaging the cool, pliable material. It was hard but moved easily enough with gentle pressure.
    “So,” she said after clearing her throat, “where do you think the dinosaurs came from, Nathan?”
    “Which dinosaurs?”
    ” The dinosaurs. All of them.”
    “Oh.” He hesitated briefly, lifting his eyes to view her curiously, deciding to use the standard answer he’d used on various ladies of his acquaintance. “I’ve no idea, really. I spend most of my time just analyzing their structure and habits.”
    Mimi, being unlike the typical ladies of his acquaintance, didn’t for a moment accept that.
    “Well, naturally you don’t know, but I mean”— her forehead creased even more deeply as she considered her words—”what do you think about their appearance on this earth? Are they God’s creatures? The Devil’s, as some believe? When did they live and die? I’m sure you’re aware of what the public thinks.”
    He sucked in a heavy breath as he shifted his