After lunch he showed her his small library. When he explained he had to get to some paperwork he'd brought from Athens, she thanked him for showing her the book-lined room. She didn't bother to tell him that the last thing she'd come to Greece to do was to read old issues of National Geographic, wool-production reports from New Zealand, or even his collection of best-selling hard covers. She had come with plans to paint, and the light on the partially shaded patio was too inviting to ignore. After managing to assemble her easel with her one working wrist and carefully setting out her supplies, she began to paint the seascape visible from the far end of the patio. She felt an excitement building as various blues and creamy beiges were delicately blended into an impressionistic view of the Aegean. She'd been right to think Greece would inspire her to do better work, but she'd never imagined that it could happen so fast. When she stood to arch her back and stretch two hours later, she saw Alex leaning against the doorway.
"How long have you been here?"
"About ten minutes. You certainly have a gift for concentration." He pushed off the doorjamb and came toward her. "Let's have a look."
To allow a look at a hasty sketch was one thing, but once she'd put paint on the canvas, no one was allowed a peek. Shielding the easel with her body, she pleaded, "Please don't ask to see it."
He gave her a pitiful smile. "Pretty bad, huh? And you were doing so well with that sketch at Delphi. Don't worry. Tonight we're going to a party with some friends of mine. I'll introduce you to Bertram. He owns a gallery on the waterfront, and maybe you could find something there to take back with you. What's so funny?"
"Nothing at all." She took him by the elbow and walked him away from the easel and toward the house. "How's your paperwork coming? Time for a lemonade break?"