“I was going to give you a robe, but if you’re offering…”

“I’m not,” I said quickly, though the thought had merit. If I got naked…

No. This man was an artist. He’d asked me to dinner, but that didn’t mean he wanted to take me to bed.

He opened a closet. This was obviously another bedroom that he used for a studio. “I don’t paint here often. I have a studio a couple buildings over where I have more room to move around.”

“I don’t smell any paint,” I said.

“Contrary to popular belief, oil paints have no odor. You’re probably thinking of turpentine or other solvents. I use a different method to clean my brushes.”

“How?”

“Raw linseed oil.” He smiled. “Doubles as a nutritional supplement too.”

“What?”

“Linseed oil is another term for flaxseed oil.”

“I didn’t know that. My mother takes flaxseed for her cholesterol.”

Roy nodded. “It has a nutty smell, much better than the noxious odor of turpentine or mineral spirits. A little of the oil will remove the color from the brushes and help keep the bristles from becoming dry. That plus a little castile soap and water does the trick.”

“Oh.”

“Plus, it’s summer, so I can have the windows open, which creates a nice cross breeze if the nutty odor bothers you.”

“It doesn’t. I actually don’t smell anything.”

“This is the master suite, but I sleep in the other room. I need the space here for supplies and—” He pulled out a plush white robe and handed it to me. “Here.”

I took it from him, my hands sinking into the silky chenille. “Where should I change?”

“You can use the bedroom.”

I warmed all over. Roy Wolfe’s bedroom. What might it look like? He wasn’t the rugged mountain-man type like Rock, or the sleek businessman type like Reid.

Roy Wolfe was a combination of both, plus something more special.

His bedroom was a mystery to me, one I’d solve as soon as I opened the door and entered.

“All right,” I said finally. “The closed door?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Be right back.”

I walked out, trying not to go too quickly, even though curiosity about Roy’s bedroom was killing me. When I opened the door to the other room, I dropped my mouth open.

It was nothing like I expected. The thickest mattress I’d ever seen sat on a black steel bedframe that could have come from IKEA. The bed was covered in plain white sheets and a chocolate brown comforter. Against the other wall was an antique highboy and chest, made out of walnut was my best guess. IKEA and antiques. Roy’s decorating style was truly eclectic, which was strange, given his artistic talent.