Her hair was still twisted into a messy braid, and she hadn’t changed from the unassuming and baggy clothes of an artist. He knew a little about the soft curves that were hidden beneath the oversized sweater and jeans. He remembered well what it felt like to be pressed against them.
“Welcome to your home away from home,” he called out to her and watched her blue eyes widen.
She made her way up the recently repaired stone steps, Lance trailing behind her with her suitcases. “I can’t believe I’m going to be living here,” she said, staring at the castle.
“Well, believe it,” he said. “Come on. I’ll show you around, and you can give me some ideas about how to give this place the makeover it needs in the time that we have.”
Edward told Lance to take Clementine’s bags to her suite, and he gestured for her to follow him. They walked from room to room, and Edward had to squelch the urge to take her hand in his.
“The library is the room in need of the most work,” he told Clementine as they entered the room through fifteen-foot mahogany double doors, etched with leafy artistry on the outside. “There was a fire here a few decades ago,” he said, unable to remember exactly when it had happened. “It was contained, but the flames destroyed the woodwork in here. The bookcases will have to be removed and replaced with something else. I was thinking about making this into an entertainment room, with a slate bar and maybe a movie theatre set-up with a large screen on one wall. We could host special screenings to the public.”
Clementine grimaced. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“What?” he asked.
“A movie theatre and slate bar in an eighteenth century castle?” Clementine’s blue eyes seemed to throw darts at him. “That’s the worst idea I’ve heard in a while.”
He snorted, unable to hold back a chuckle. “Tell me what you really think, Clementine Wicke.”
She sighed and leaned against a papered wall that was shadowed with smoke and ash stain. “Call me Clem,” she said and turned her attention to the bookcases. “Nobody calls me Clementine.”
“Okay, Clem,” he agreed and noticed the care she took in scrutinizing each detail of the library. What a mystery this beautiful woman was. She seemed to perceive the world through a lens no one else could interpret. What was it that she saw in the ordinary? He could watch her all day.
“This woodwork is salvageable, Edward,” Clem said. “It just needs to be sanded and stained. The bookshelves need some love.”
He watched, mesmerized as she canvassed a hand over the damaged mahogany, her eyes soft as if she were making a promise to take care of it.
“You want to stay true to the authenticity of the period and artistry,” Clementine said, still focused on the woodwork. “We can make this room look as spectacular as it did in the 1700s.”
Edward thought it might be better if the room looked more modern. He’d rather sit in a theatre-style room with cushy seats and a bar than an old library, but he could see that Clementine valued the importance of the past. Antiquity had meaning to her. He didn’t understand her philosophy but found himself completely enraptured in her passion, so much so that he didn’t hear the words she was speaking.
“Do you agree?” she asked.
Shit. He was stuck in the sea of her eyes again.
“Uh… yes, I do. Absolutely,” he said. “But the process you described sounds time-consuming. We’re on a tight schedule.”
“It takes time to do things right,” she argued.
He bit his lip, wondering if hiring Clementine had been the right decision. He had to get his wits about him or he’d end up sailing into last century on the tide of this intoxicating woman. She had a way of enrapturing him and beckoning him into the riptide of her dedication to the past. He was a man of the future, and he wanted to stay that way.
“Would you like to see your rooms?” he asked and pushed the double doors open for her. He found himself unable to keep from watching the way she moved. His mouth watered, and his fingers burned to touch her.
Throwing caution out the window, he reached for her hand.
“I’ll lead the way.”
As Clementine stepped into her bedroom, she was blown away by the beauty of it. Despite Edward’s cautionary tales about the castle being rundown and in need of repair, she found it to be in fairly good condition, its characteristics well preserved. Maybe because he didn’t value history, he just didn’t see it.
“Look at the crown molding.” She marveled at the work of what must have been a master artist. Bunches of what looked like lily of the valley were etched into the wood that bordered the room. “And these casement windows.” She ran her fingers along the chipped paint on the window frames. “Are these original?”
“I believe so,” he said and shook his head, looking dismayed. “They’re terribly inefficient. That, at least, was one area where the historical society was willing to see reason, as long as the new windows look period-appropriate. I have a window company scheduled to replace all the windows next week.”
“Well, you can cancel them first thing tomorrow morning,” she said without pause, still inspecting the gorgeous framework.
“Why would I do that?” he asked.
“Because we’re going to preserve these originals, not replace them with something modern and factory-made.”
She didn’t need to see his face to know that Edward was not a fan of her idea.
“The heating bills here are astronomical,” he complained. “Even the historical society agreed these windows are impractical. I’m not willing to budge on this one, Clem. The windows have to go.”
She spun on one foot and faced him. “Have you even looked into options for making these windows more efficient?” Her voice was even. She knew he hadn’t.
“Well…” he stumbled.
“That’s what I thought.” She rolled her eyes at this most recent display of his bias. “There are several ways to fortify these windows. We can seal them properly, double glaze them, install a special film.”
He seemed to mull over her suggestions for a moment.
“Wouldn’t it be easier to just replace them?” he asked, and Clem wanted to slap him. “Do these windows make that much of a difference?”
Hottie or not, this prince was an insufferable man-child, blind to the splendor all around him. She had to admit, she’d enjoyed holding his hand on the walk upstairs, but his behavior right now reminded her of the distance she would need to place between them. “You know, Edward,” she began, “it’s almost as if growing up in the midst of this beauty has spoiled you.”
He scoffed at that. “I am not spoiled.”
“Well, you’re certainly not appreciative of all of this.” She waved a hand at the gorgeous room, spacious and more lavish than anything she’d seen outside of her studies. It was no use trying to get him to see sense. “Replacing the windows is a non-starter for me,” she said blandly. “These are worth a lot of money, actually. And they’re worth restoring. They give a feel to the castle that is altogether renaissance.”
Edward shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “If you want to sink time into fixing them, go ahead.” His nostrils flared, and his dark eyes narrowed. “I’ll leave you to unpack.”