The Real Thing (10 page)

She gave him a small smile. “I’m sure
it’s nothing, but I’d rather leave if that’s okay with you.
I’ll feel much better at home in bed.”

Where she could lose herself in her fantasy again—this time with her battery-operated bedside buddy.

Chloe came by the next day to drop off the re-worked script for the pick-up shots that Raine would be shooting in Vancouver the following week. The role had come soon after she and Cameron had started “seeing” eac
h other, and the movie promised
be a blockbuster.

Making herself
chai
tea, Raine carried
the new script
into the living room and settled down on the couch to
memorize
her lines
. Rather than read, she found herself staring at the huge abstract
painting
hanging
over the fireplace
. It was okay, she supposed. If you liked splashes of color on a bright white canvas. The
interior
designer who
’
d done the place had charged her a small fortune for it, so she suspected it
was worth a lot of money, but compared to Logan’s work, it
was
cold and lifeless.

Tossing the script
on the coffee table,
she grabbed her laptop and
connected to the internet
. Going to
Google
, she typed
in Logan’s name
and clicked on
the search button. T
he screen filled with hundreds of matches for the artist.
Wow.
Apparently, Logan
McBride
more
famous
than he let on.

Raine clicked on the
link to the gallery in Seattle that showed his work
. According to the website, he
was currently having a show of his most recent paintings,
all
of which were done in watercolor. The website also displayed images of some of his
oil paintings
from previous shows.
Curious, she linked to each of the
pictures
.
Though all his stuff was beautiful, she was drawn more to his
watercolors
than
the oils. She didn’t have the expertise to define what made them different, but the watercolors
seemed less rigid and
more inspiring. It was
n’t that the oils weren’t great,
she just liked the
watercolors more.

Going back the screen that showed the rest of the matches, she found a review for the current show and
clicked
on it.
Clearly
, the critic hadn’t liked the watercolors as much as she did. The terms he used ranged
from “juvenile” to “unrefined.” Raine frowned. She was no stranger to poor reviews, but this one was definitely off the mark.
Logan’s watercolors
weren’t juvenile or unrefined. They were gorgeous.
But she
supposed
the art world had its politics just like Hollywood did.
Movie critics hated when
actors
switched genres
.
Obviously
, art critics
did, too
.

Raine
wanted to click on every link Google had for Logan,
but she had
a script
to
read. Grabbing it, she
curled up on the couch
and got down to work. Or tried to anyway. Her gaze kept going back to the painting
above the fireplace
, and every time it did,
she couldn’t help
thinking one of Logan’s watercolors
would look
so much
better
filling that space.

“Seattle?” Chloe said the word as if she’d never heard of the place before. “What’
s
in Seattle?”

Logan
.

But
Raine
couldn’t say that. “The
re’s this art gallery there
I want to check out.”

Her friend frowned. “Since when are you interested in art?”

Since I fell for a hunky artist with a penchant for spanking
.

Raine zipped her weekender bag. “Since I heard about the art gallery.”

“Oh.” Chloe pushed a stray curl back. “Well, do you want me to go with you? I can be packed in fifteen minutes.”

“Don’t be silly. Stay here and enjoy your days off.” Raine grinned. “Kidnap that hottie on the film crew you’ve been crushing on and go sightseeing.”

She gave Chloe a wave, then grabbed her bag and
hurried out of the hotel room before she
could change her mind.

She wasn’t going to Seattle to see Logan, she told herself as she waited for the valet to bring around her rented Jaguar. She was going to the gallery to see his paintings. If he just happened to be there, then…

Then she’d tell him she had some free time
in between filming
pick-up shots in
Vancouver
, and that she’d come down to Seattle to check out his paintings. It was true.

Besides, he probably wouldn’t even be at the gallery.
He might still be at the cabin. God, she hoped not.

The
three-hour
drive
from Vancouver seemed to take forever. Probably because she was so keyed up. She hadn’t been this nervous since her first audition.

The gallery was just down the street from
Pike’s Place Market
.
Logan’s paintings weren’t the only ones on display,
but they
filled the majority of the store. A petite middle-age woman was at the ornate desk just
inside the entryway. She
looked up from her phone conversation to smile at
Raine, mouthing something that looked like, “I’ll be right with you.”
Raine returned her smile
, then wandered
across the gallery
.

Logan’s paintings
had looked good on the net, but in real life, they were breathtaking, and as she studied the
m, she found herself picturing
him working on them. Though they were all spectacular, one in particular caught her attention. It depicted a small cabin nestled in the trees and surrounded by snow-capped mountains.  It took her a moment to realize
it
was the
same one where she’d spent the weekend with
him, and she smiled.

“Logan McBride is one of
our most popular local artists,
” a
woman’s voice said.
“Though he usually works in oils, this is his first foray into watercolors.”

Raine turned to
see
that the woman had left her desk
and come to stand beside her.
“He’s very talented
.
”
She turned back to the painting of the cabin
. “I
especially like this
one.”

The woman smiled. “
That’s actually a cabin he has up in the mountains
in northern
California.”

Raine
almost admitted she knew where it was, but caught herself just in time. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is.”

The woman fell silent, but Raine could feel her eyes on her. Was she wondering if she should go in for the hard sell?

“Forgive me, but you look so
much like the actress Raine Montgomery
that I just
have to ask,”
the woman
said
. “Are you
her
?”

Raine’s first instinct was to deny it, to tell the woman she
heard that all the time, but
she
didn’t. She smiled.
“Yes, I am.”

The woman’s eyes went wide.
“
Oh my goodness!
Are you in town filming a movie, then?”

R
aine shook her head. “Actually, I came to see Logan McBride’s work
.
I’ve heard a lot about it and wanted to see his paintings in person.”

“Really?”
The woman beamed.
“Well, if you like his paintings as much as you seem to,
you simply must meet him
.
T
his is forward of me, but i
f you’re going to be in town a
while,
do you think
we could set up
a
photo shoot with the
Seattle Times
?
It’s
always
good publicity for an artist to have a famous celebrity
gush over
his work.”

“Um…”

Her heart was p
o
unding so hard at the prospect of seeing Logan aga
in it was practically ready
to jum
p out of her chest, so why was she hesitating?

T
he door
of
the gallery swung open
, saving her from answering both questions, and she quickly turned back to the painting hoping the wom
an would run off to chat up her
new client.

“Logan, what perfect timing! There’s someone you have to meet.”

If Raine’s heart was beating wildly before, that was nothing compared to how hard it was thumping now
. Hoping Logan couldn’t hear how deafening it was, she
slowly
turned
to face him.

Despite fantasizing about him for the past week, her breath still hitched at the real thing.
Dressed in jeans and a
button-up
shirt,
that trademark scruff
on his jaw
, he
looked even more gorgeous than she remembered.

Logan
stared at her, as if not quite believing what he saw.
“Raine?”

N
ot trusting herself to speak, Raine gripped her handbag tighter and offered him a small smile.

The woman from the gallery
looked
from Logan to
her
in confusion. “You two know each ot
her?”

Logan ignored her
, his
attention fully focused on Raine.
“Wha
t are you doing here?”

She wet her lips
nervously.
“I was doing some filming up in Vancouver, and thought I’d drive down here to s
ee your work.”

“She’s particularly fond of that one you did of your cabin,” the gallery
woman put
in. “In fact, we were just discussing the possibility of
the
two
of you
doing a photo-op when you came in.”

Logan’s
dark eyes were almost a caress as they regarded Raine.
“The one o
f the cabin, huh?”

Was he thinking what she was thinking
, remembering what she was remembering? She dragged her gaze away from his to smile at the woman.
“I’d like to purchase
it if it isn’t already sold.
”

The woman
’s eyes lit up.
“Excellent!
If you two wi
ll excuse me, I’ll go start the
paperwork.”

Raine barely heard her
. E
verything else in the room had ceased to exist
the moment Logan walked into the gallery
. Being this close to him again was intoxicating.

The corner of his mouth edged up.
“I thought my artwor
k wasn’t to your taste.”

She frowned. “I never said that.”

“You implied it.”

She was pretty sure she hadn’t, but she wasn’t going to ar
g
ue with him.
“Let’s just say that the cabin has a special significance for me.”

He regarded her in silence, his dark eyes unreadable. “So, how long are you in town
for?”

“
A
couple days.”

She would have said more, but the
woman from the
gallery
interrupted them,
saying she need
ed
Raine’s signature on a few things.

Raine was keenly aware of Logan watching her
as she signed the paperwork and
paid for her purchase.
Her hand trembled so much that her signature looked like a ten-year-old write it, but the woman didn’t seem to notice.

“Now that’s out of the way, what do you think about that photo-
op I mentioned?
The one for the
Times
.”

Logan’s brows drew together. “What photo-op?”

The woman smiled at him. “Raine has graciously agreed to take a photo with
you
for the newspaper.”

His frown deepened. “I appreciate it,
Evangeline
, but I can’t take advantage of Raine that way.”

“You aren’t taking advantage of her,”
Evangeline
insisted. “She doesn’t mind. Do you, Raine?”

Raine smiled. “Not at all.”

She didn’t mind. Especially since the critic who’d given Logan that crappy review worked for the
Times
. This was her chance to make him and every other
opinionated
know-it-all eat their words. Raine Montgomery didn’
t buy paintings that were “juvenile” and “unrefined.”

Logan looked as if he wanted to protest some more, but finally he nodded. “
Okay.
Thanks.”

Evangeline
smiled. “I’ll go call them right now. Be right back.”

Logan shook his head as he watched the woman practically run toward
the back of
the gallery. “Sorry about that. She can be a force sometimes.”

Raine laughed. “It’s okay. I really don’t mind taking the picture.”

They stood there in silence, the only sound coming from the muted phone conversation
Evangeline
was having in the back of the gallery. There was so much Raine wanted to say, but she couldn’t.

Logan
cleared his throat.
“
Do you want to grab dinner or something?
If you don’t have other plans.
”
When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “It’s okay if you do.”

She
quickly
shook her head. “I don’t. Have other plans, I mean.
It’s just that
sometimes I have a hard time going out in public.”

“I
didn’t think about that.
”
He regarded her. “We could alway
s
have dinner at my place.”

Her heart started beating like crazy again. “I’d like that.”

Evangeline
breezed in before either of them could say more. As it turned out, the newspaper couldn’t do the photo-op until the following day. That was fine with Raine. The sooner she could be alone with Logan, the better.

She had to wait a little longer because he lived out on Bainbridge Island, so they had to take the ferry across Puget Sound. After seeing his cabin, she expected Logan’s house to be equally outdoorsy looking, but it was a modern-looking two-story set against a backdrop of tall fir trees.

“I’ll get us something to drink,” Logan said when they got inside.
“
Make
yourself at
home.”

Raine took off her jacket and tossed it on the back of the couch. With a loft that overlooked the living room, a huge kitchen and a set of French doors leading out
to a
back deck, the interior of the house was just as beautiful as the outside.

“I know you don’t like red meat, so how about salmon?” Logan asked as
he handed
her a glass of wine.

“That’s fine.” She smiled. “You don’t have to go to any trouble, you know.”

“I don’t, huh?” His mouth quirked. “How about a can of beef stew then?”

She laughed. “Okay. Maybe a little trouble
than that
.
Can I do anything?
”

He glanced at her as he opened the fridge. “You could make the salad if you want.”