Sherryl Woods - Treasured

But if Destiny understood all that, she also seemed to know instinctively when he’d buried himself in his work for too long. That’s when she’d dream up some excuse to take him away from his studio and draw him back into the real world. Tonight’s holiday celebration was meant to be one of those occasions. Her one slipup had been not reminding him this morning that today was the day company was coming.

“Give me ten minutes,” he told her now. “I’ll clean up.”

“Too late for that. Melanie is pregnant and starving. She’ll eat the flower arrangement if we don’t offer an alternative soon. Besides, the company is beginning to wonder if we’ve just taken over some stranger’s house. They need to meet you. You’ll make up in charm what you lack in sartorial splendor.”

“I have paint on my clothes,” he protested, then gave her a hard look as what she’d said finally sank in. “Company? You mean besides Richard and Mack and their wives? Did you say anything about company when you badgered me into having Thanksgiving here?”

“I’m sure I did,” she said blithely.

She hadn’t, and they both knew it, which meant she was scheming about something more than relieving his solitude. When they reached the house, Ben immediately understood what she was up to.

“And, darling, this is Kathleen Dugan,” Destiny said, after introducing several other strangers who were part of the rag-tag group of people Destiny had collected because she knew they had no place else to spend the holiday. There was little question, judging from her tone, that this Kathleen was the pièce de résistance.

He gave his aunt a sharp look. Kathleen was young, beautiful and here alone, which suggested she was available. He’d known for some time now—since Mack’s recent wedding, in fact—that Destiny had targeted him for her next matchmaking scheme. Here was his proof—a woman with a fringe of black hair in a pixie cut that emphasized her cheekbones and her amazing violet eyes. There wasn’t an artist on earth who wouldn’t want to capture that interesting, angular face on canvas. Not that Ben ever did portraits, but even he was tempted to break his hard-and-fast rule. She was stunning in a red silk tunic that skimmed over a slender figure. She wore it over black pants and accented it with a necklace of chunky beads in gold and red. The look was elegant and just a touch avant-garde.

“Lovely to meet you,” Kathleen said with a soft smile that showed no hint of the awkwardness Ben was feeling. Clearly she hadn’t caught on to the scheme yet.

Ben nodded. He politely shook her hand, felt a startling jolt of awareness, then took another look into her eyes to see if she’d felt the same little zing. She showed no evidence of it, thank heavens.

“If you’ll excuse my totally inappropriate attire,” Ben said, quickly turning away from her and addressing the others, “I gather dinner is ready to be served.”

“We’ve time for another drink,” Destiny insisted, apparently no longer worried about the delayed meal. “Richard, bring your brother something. He can spend at least a few minutes socializing before we sit down to eat.”

Ben frowned at her. “I thought we were in a rush.”

“Only to drag you in here,” his very pregnant sister-in-law said as she came and linked an arm through his, drawing him out of the spotlight, even as she whispered conspiratorially, “Don’t you know that you’re the main attraction?”

He gave Melanie a sharp look. They’d formed a bond back when Richard had been fighting his attraction to her. Ben trusted her instincts. He wanted to hear her take on this gathering. “Oh?”

“You never come out of this lair of yours,” Melanie explained. “When Destiny invited us here, we figured something was up.”

“Oh?” he said again, waiting to see if she’d drawn the same conclusion about Kathleen’s presence here that he had. “Such as?”

Melanie studied him intently. “You really don’t know what Destiny is up to? You’re as much in the dark as the rest of us?”

Ben glanced toward Kathleen, then. “Not as much as you might think,” he said with a faint scowl.

Melanie gave the newcomer a knowing look. “Ah, so that’s it. I wondered when Kathleen arrived if she was the chosen one. I figured it was going to be your turn soon. Destiny won’t be entirely happy until all of her men are settled.”

“I hope you’re wrong about that,” Ben said darkly. “I’d hate to disappoint her, but I am settled.”

Richard overheard him and chuckled. “Oh, bro, if that’s what you think, you’re delusional.” He, too, glanced toward Kathleen, whose head was tilted as she listened intently to something Destiny was saying. “I give you till May.”

“June,” Mack chimed in. “Destiny’s been moping because none of us had a traditional June wedding. You’re all she’s got left, little brother. She won’t allow you to let her down. I caught her out in the garden earlier. I think she was mentally seating the guests and envisioning the perfect area for the reception.”

Ben shuddered. Richard and Mack had once been as fiercely adamant about not getting married as he was. Look at the two of them now. Richard even had a baby on the way, and Mack and Beth were talking about adopting one of the sick kids she worked with at the hospital. Maybe more. To his astonishment, those two seemed destined for a houseful. By this time next year, there would be the cries of children filling this house and any other place the Carlton family gathered. No one needed him adding to the clutter. He doubted Destiny saw it that way, though.

There were very few things that Ben wouldn’t do for his aunt. Getting married was one of them. He liked his solitude. After the chaotic upheaval of his early years, he counted on the predictability of his quiet life in the country. Graciela had given him a reprieve from that, but then she, too, had died, and it had reinforced his commitment to go through life with his heart under the tightest possible wraps. Those who wrote that he was prone to dark moods and eccentricities had gotten it exactly right. There would be no more nicks in his armor, no more devastating pain to endure.

His resolve steady and sure, he risked another look at Kathleen Dugan, then belatedly saw the smug expression on his aunt’s face when she caught him.

Ben sighed, then stood a little straighter, stiffening his spine, giving Destiny a daunting look. She didn’t bat so much as an eyelash. That was the trouble with his aunt. She rarely took no for an answer. She was persuasive and sneaky. If he didn’t take a firm stand right here, right now, he was doomed.

Unfortunately, though, he couldn’t think of a single way to make his position clear over turkey and dressing.

He could always say, “So glad you could come, Kathleen, but don’t get any ideas.”

Or, “Delighted to meet you, Ms. Dugan, but ignore every word out of my aunt’s mouth. She’s devious and clever and not to be trusted.”

Or maybe he should simply say nothing at all, just ignore the woman and avoid his aunt. If he could endure the next couple of hours, they’d all be gone and that would be that. He could bar the gates and go back into seclusion.

Perfect, he concluded. That was definitely the way to go. No overt rudeness that would come back to haunt him. No throwing down of the gauntlet. Just passive acceptance of Kathleen’s presence here tonight.

Satisfied with that solution, he turned his attention to the drink Richard had thrust in his hand. A sniff reassured him it was nonalcoholic. He hadn’t touched a drop of anything stronger than beer since the night of Graciela’s accident.

“Darling,” Destiny said, her gaze on him as she crossed the room, Kathleen at her side. “Did I mention earlier that Kathleen owns an art gallery?”