“Fine,” Lisbon said, glancing in Flynn’s direction briefly before returning his attention to Charlotte again. “I will honor your decision. However, I must stress that, as long as you are here, you will continue to be addressed as Charlie Beaumont. No one outside of this room shall be privy to the truth. I, for one, do not have the time to begin a search for a new artist with your skill should our clients object to your presence. I have promised that these paintings will be completed and mounted in time for the Christmastide services. Is that understood?”

“Of course,” Charlotte said. “Again, nothing has changed, I assure you. I simply won’t allow it. It will be like nothing ever happened.”

Flynn looked down at the toes of his boots, a deep disquiet settling into his gut, suddenly unsure if she was speaking of their work or their kiss.

“Excellent.” Lisbon moved farther into the room toward the panel, reaching for a lantern. “Now show me what you’ve done.”

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Charlotte stood and stared at the exquisite painting of the Madonna.

She’d slipped silently into the church to look at the painting, and it still sent chills down her spine, much the same way it had the first time she had seen it. It was of a quality that museums across the Continent sought for their walls, the sort of work that art teachers referenced to their young pupils. Here, in the soft light of her candle, Mary’s expression took on a haunting, ethereal quality, and Charlotte almost expected her to raise those soulful eyes and gaze at Charlotte.

And what would she see?

A woman balancing on the fine edge of ecstasy and terror.

Which was, of course, the aftermath of discovering exactly what it felt like to be kissed by Flynn Rutledge. Ecstasy because she had never, in all her life, been kissed the way Flynn Rutledge had kissed her. He had kissed her with a need and a passion that made her want to believe in happily ever afters of the heart. He had kissed her with the conviction of a man who had finally found what he’d been searching for.

And that ecstasy was coupled with a dread-filled terror that he would reconsider and declare that kiss a monumental mistake. And then in the next breath, a hope-fueled terror that he wouldn’t. Both of which catapulted her into unknown territory where expectations, professional and personal, were murky at best.