Page 56 of The Charmer

“Okay. In that case, I dropped by to invite you over for dinner tomorrow night.” Sofia paused, and Ariel didn’t like her sly grin. “And I thought you might like to bring that delightful young man of yours. He likes lasagna?”

“No!”

“No?”

Ariel calmed her voice with effort. “What I mean is, Cooper isn’t my young man. He’s busy with work and I’m busy here, so we won’t be seeing much of each other anymore.”

Try never. Which would be too soon for her.

Sofia’s mouth drooped in disappointment. “What a shame. Cooper is a nice boy. Excellent manners, such class, so handsome.”

Nice boy? Ariel tried not to choke on the lump of disgust lodged in her throat.

“Aah…now I understand.” Sofia pointed at the painting and grimaced. “You are very sad about not seeing him anymore. You love him and you are pining for him. It all makes sense now.”

“I don’t love him.”

The moment the denial left her lips, Ariel knew losing the gallery didn’t make her want to weep as much as the thought of losing Cooper.

For once, Sofia didn’t push or probe or offer a ten minute matchmaking lecture. “Don’t worry, bella. It will all work out in the end.”

As Sofia wrapped her in a smothering hug, Ariel seriously doubted it.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cooper paced outside the entrance to the National Gallery, oblivious to the stunning fountains, the impressive lead-light windows, and the natural beauty of the Royal Botanic Gardens opposite.

He had a lot on his mind; namely, the appearance of one stubborn, gorgeous artist and whether she’d give him a chance to explain.

It all seemed so clear after he’d sorted things out with his dad and he hadn’t wasted a second in putting his plan into action. He just hoped the wheels in motion wouldn’t be derailed by the fiery blonde harridan who had captured his heart without trying.

At that moment, he saw Ariel alight from a tram on St. Kilda Road and he exhaled in relief.

She came.

Then again, she would have, considering she thought she was meeting a representative of the Victorian Arts Council rather than the selfish brat she’d accused him of being earlier today.

His pulse raced and his heart turned over as she waited at the traffic lights, a stunning figure in crazy striped knickerbockers, a flowing purple top, and towering cork wedges that tied around her ankles with black satin ribbon. The eclectic mix would’ve looked silly on any other woman. On Ariel, it looked amazing.

She had an inner grace, a special glow that made anything she wore or anything around her take on special significance, and he’d been crazy enough to almost let her slip through his fingers.

Thankfully, he’d come to his senses. Now, if only she’d give him a chance to prove exactly how much she meant to him.

Cooper waited in the lengthening shadows as early dusk fell over Melbourne, watching Ariel’s every step with increasing impatience.

This had to work.

Ariel glanced at her watch as she reached the entrance to the Gallery, relieved to see she’d made it with a minute to spare.

This could be it, her one and only chance to save Colour by Dreams, and a golden opportunity to rip up the document burning a hole in her bag; the signed document she hadn’t couriered to Cooper when the summons from the Arts Council’s director’s had arrived.

She hadn’t questioned the timely request. She preferred to see it as a sign from the big guy upstairs that her luck had changed for the better. Besides, the director had been at Chelsea’s showing and maybe he wanted to discuss the future of Victorian art and the part she—and her gallery—could play in it.

She closed her eyes and made a fervent wish she was right in her assumptions. However, when she opened them again and found herself staring into Cooper’s too-blue eyes, she knew that wishes didn’t come true. At least, not for her.

“What are you doing here?” She spat out, gripping her bag tightly to prevent herself from swinging it at him, her first crazy impulse when she saw his handsome face.

“There’s something you should see inside,” he said, his well-modulated voice raising her hackles.

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