Every morning fantails flitted ballerina-like from frond to frond amongst the enormous tree ferns, feeding from a clay birdhouse strung from one of the great tree’s branches. Higher still, a Tui and its mate with their blue-black feathers and distinctive white tufts beneath their necks chorused to each other.
The small cottage until now had remained resolutely empty; quiet and contained, as if waiting for something or someone special. Tonight it appeared more vital. More alive. Rosa observed the lavender swaying in the soft night air, happy someone had come to live amongst them. No evidence of fear existed in the cottage’s aura. Even the old Pohutukawa’s initial mistrust had been replaced by a calm composure.
The only one with reservations, it seemed, was Rosa.
The front gate squeaked as Rosa lifted the latch and pushed it open. She scrunched her way down the shell path and stepped up to the porch to lightly knock. Built of brick and painted cream, Lavender Cottage’s eyes on the world were two Wedgwood-trimmed French windows on each side of a heavy kauri door. At the second knock, the door swung open, and there stood Mr. Far-Too-Gorgeous, looking sensational in black.
“Good!” he said.
That was it. Good. “What’s so good?”
“You’re on time.”
“It’s not as if I’m going to get lost on the way,” Rosa retorted before she could stop herself. Damn it! When had she become so ill-mannered? Aden had done nothing to deserve her mistrust. Not yet.
His lips tilted upwards, and a twinkle of mischief lurked in those incredible, fathomless eyes. “You haven’t mellowed with the afternoon,” he noted, and stood aside to let her in.
“Sorry.” Her apology was genuine. “I seem to be making a habit of being rude. Believe me, I’m not usually so difficult.”
Aden inclined his head, an imperceptible movement so smooth she thought he must have practiced it in the mirror a million times. Then he swiveled on his feet and, without waiting for her, prowled down the narrow entrance hall, past the single bathroom and the three bedrooms, one of which, at the far end on the left, was now the studio. Such a tiny house for someone as dynamic as Aden. She somehow imagined he was more suited to a chateau or castle somewhere in Europe.
Rosa looked for the telltale signs of the crates a courier had dropped off late that afternoon containing Aden’s work and equipment. She knew they were here and imagined they were in the studio but that door was closed.
Patience, Rosa. Patience.
Aden led the way past the coffee table, through another set of old-fashioned, glass-paned French-doors hooked back against the outside walls, and out onto a veranda almost wider than the entire house. A stand of trees on the right provided both privacy and shelter, and on the left, Beth’s home, Clematis Cottage, glowed with fairy lights strung amongst Pohutukawas. There was no fence between the two properties.
A small cedar table placed between two chairs faced the embankment, enabling them to take full advantage of Raven’s Creek River several feet away. But it was dark, and she could only hear the soft sound of water as it flowed gently by.
“Already it feels like a home,” she admitted.
Aden tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked on his feet as he breathed in the fresh air, a smile of satisfaction in his words. “I have Beth to thank for the little extras.”
A honey-imbued candle glowed eerily at the table’s center. Combined with the soft radiance of a mauve and orange lava lamp on the coffee table in the lounge behind them, the atmosphere was, in Rosa’s opinion, extremely touchy-feely. Suppressing a shiver, she wondered what he thought he was doing. More importantly, what was she doing out here with him?
But Aden broke into her thoughts. “Beth insisted on lending me a few essentials, and it ate into her preparation time. She made me promise to not come over too early, so we’ve plenty of time for a drink before we crank open the crates and head on over.” Aden indicated the wine on the table. “One of your favorites, I believe.”
“Feijoa wine.” Her arm brushed against his when she moved to sit on the seat closest, and a zing of awareness rushed through her. “My absolute favorite. Although a Merlot is nearly as good.”
A whisper of warmth from his breath caressed the back of her neck, and her skin tingled. Rosa was very aware he lingered behind her longer than necessary before moving round the table to sit down on the only other chair.
“I know. Beth told me.” He picked up the wine and worked the cork from the bottle.
Inexplicably breathless, Rosa ignored the mental and physical uncertainty his nearness engendered. He had taken the time to find out what she liked. Determined not to succumb to the lure of the flickering candlelight reflected in Aden’s inky eyes or the scent of his masculinity, she directed him toward the reason she was here. “I’m looking forward to seeing your work. How many pieces did you bring in the end?”
“Twenty-five. Most of them small to medium-sized as originally agreed. Don’t worry,” he noted when Rosa checked her watch, “we have time for wine and the crates.” He reached over and filled her glass, his gaze unwavering. “I hope they live up to your expectation.”
• • •
Buoyed by the warmth of the wine, Rosa’s expectations were high as Aden cranked the first crate open, lifted the lid, and leaned it against the leg of a chair. He stepped aside and smiled encouragement when she hesitated. “Go on. Feel free.”
Rosa stepped forward and brushed at the small, sticky, polystyrene balls buffering the contents against harm and her hand disappeared, delving into the whiteness until she felt the first item. Gently she pulled it out. It was wrapped in clear bubble wrap and unrolled it to reveal a bolt of rich purple velvet, which she unfurled.
An involuntary gasp escaped Rosa’s lips. “Oh … !” Without question, the piece was the most exquisite thing she had ever seen; a miniature, hand-crafted silver goblet inlaid with the clearest, purest-quality amethysts. Aden had not stinted in his use of his preferred medium and, for all its lack of size, the piece weighed heavy in her hand. Holding it up at eye level, she inspected every curve, every line. Beaten and shaped into perfect symmetry it was polished to a smooth, lustrous sheen. The only word she could utter was … “Perfection.”
A prism of violet beamed from the amethysts under the room’s single light bulb and arced across the far wall, creating a rainbow of color. Awe held her spellbound. There was no doubt Aden was a true master, deserving every accolade she had ever heard and read about.
Just by looking, touching, smoothing her hands over a piece of his work, her standards were raised. Here was the perfection she aspired to — dreamed of achieving some day. Placing the item with reverence on the studio workbench she looked to Aden, suddenly hesitant and very much in awe.
“Go on.” Aden encouraged again, his arms folded across his chest, his expression one of absolute confidence. It was as if he understood her awe. As if he was in awe as much as she.
Altogether she unwrapped six goblets and a miniature decanter studded with amethysts in a style similar to that of the goblets. Another foray into the crate resulted in a rectangular tray, the surface polished to a mirror-like sheen. A lip cleverly encircled it to prevent the goblets and decanter from sliding off.
In another, smaller crate there were other pieces — smaller items no less exquisite. Rings, bracelets, earrings, a pair of sterling silver hair-combs, three pendants inlaid with jewels, and, of all things, a letter opener.
But it was the last item, a necklace that captured her heart. A silver dolphin pendant, the mammal poised mid-flight as if about to dive into the sea. Its eyes, inset with the purest Ceylon sapphires, sparkled with joy. With its mouth open and tilted upward in an almost-smile, body arched in preparation for a dive, it seemed the only thing preventing it from plunging downwards was the long chain threaded through a smaller link soldered to the tip of the tail fluke
s. The balance and fluidity of the form suggested movement, hinted at playfulness and was … miraculous.
“Oh, Aden!” Sudden tears pricked her eyes, and she gulped back a healthy and perfectly natural dose of envy. She marveled at how the dolphin seemed to wink at her, as if it held the greatest of secrets. In that moment Aden moved, his hands covering hers. A strange excitement took hold and spiraled into something else, something she couldn’t quite define, but she felt safe, as if she belonged in Aden’s aura. As if this moment had been predestined and that the Goddess was pleased. Then, as quickly as that feeling took hold, a sudden disappointment struck when Aden took the chain from her grasp, and she cursed herself for being so fanciful.
Then he shocked her by moving behind her and slipping the necklace about her neck and securing the clasp, his hands briefly resting against the nape of her neck. Adrenaline shot through her. Is he the one for me?
“So you approve.”
Aden’s voice sounded strangely gruff. She spun round to thank him. “It’s … the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen.” The coolness of the silver tingled against her skin. She spun back, looking around for a mirror, but there was none.
“The bathroom,” Aden suggested, and Rosa shot out of the room to look in the old-fashioned cabinet mirror, scratched and worn with time. Her hand caressed the silver resting on her sternum. She twisted this way and that, the sapphires glinting wickedly against her skin.
Surely a man who crafted such beauty was not all bad. She looked at his reflection as he came up behind her. “It quite literally takes my breath away.”
Chapter Eight
Alanna filled four glasses with sparkling feijoa wine and handed them out, first to Aden, then her sisters.
“I’m so jealous!” Alanna exclaimed, and, in an overtly blatant display, which more often than not worked when she wanted something badly enough, she turned on the charm. “I think there has to be two more necklaces in those crates of yours.”
“Unfortunately,” Aden admitted with a hint of false apology and a wink, “the dolphin is a one-off design.”
“Rats!” Alanna took a gulp of wine, and the bubbles caused her to sneeze. Everyone laughed. “Then I get to wear the necklace next.”
Rosa placed a protective hand over the dolphin, unable to bear the thought of parting with it. This piece was hers. “I’ve made an offer for it and Aden has accepted. So you won’t be getting your mitts on it anytime soon.”
Alanna’s consternation was evident. “Hey. Isn’t there an unwritten rule on purchasing a display item before it’s shown to the public?”
“We make our own rules.” Rosa turned to Beth. “Don’t we?”
“I believe so.” Beth grinned. “One of the privileges of being self-employed.”
“You’ll have to choose from one of the pieces left if you want to buy something,” Aden told Alanna.
“Just as well you’ve hired my cottage,” Alanna schmoozed. “You can start work immediately on a replacement. I fancy a one-off design too.”
“If I finish my current commission on time.” Aden wasn’t about to be pushed. Good on him, thought Rosa. Her sister didn’t take no for an answer easily. But then Aden added, “Have you any ideas on what you’d want?”
“Oh, she’ll want a dragon,” Rosa informed him with certainty. “She’s obsessed with them.”
What she didn’t expect was the sudden caution in his eyes. It was there only for a second, but she witnessed it nonetheless before he resumed the slightly amused air he wore like a mask. She wondered if her sisters had seen the slip, but Beth was pottering about at the dining table, listening as she set out the cutlery. Alanna was too self-absorbed to see anything other than what she could get out of Aden.
“Why are you obsessed with dragons?” Aden tilted his glass to clink with Alanna’s.
“She’s famous for her dragons,” Rosa clinked her glass with his also. “You must have heard about Gregori? The most famous one of all.”
Could it be she was reading too much into his casual stance as he sipped his wine while listening to them talk about Gregori? Two years ago, a jade dragon with inset ruby eyes had appeared in the gallery’s courtyard, positioned in the center of the ornamental pond. He’d been there ever since.
Alanna had claimed she had carved him over several weeks in the evenings, but neither she nor Beth had ever seen her working on him, and Rosa had always felt there was something not right about Alanna’s story.
Gregori was the most exquisite piece. He gleamed with an inner beauty. His ruby inset eyes often glowed in the light of the day, even in the late afternoon sun and sometimes into the evening, as if they had been charged like a solar light. Rosa had often tried to inspect the spell within Gregori. His shield was strong, but she had picked up the fact that yes, Alanna had been the creator of the dragon. Since then, she’d not questioned her sister again on the matter.
Not long after Gregori was created, word spread of his lifelike appearance, and he had become a focal point of their gallery and fame.
“I confess,” Aden told Alanna, “I’ve heard rumors about the quality of this piece, and he is one of the reasons I agreed to come to Raven’s Creek.”
Rosa rolled her eyes as she witnessed Alanna’s ego inflate, her eyes filling with no small amount of pride.
Beth moved back into the tiny kitchen to check on the meal and joined the conversation. “We’re all obsessed, really. It’s not just Alanna. I’m crazy about embroidering and weaving tapestries and Rosa with herbal potions, the gallery, and her silver jewelry.”
“Mostly Rosa’s obsessed with us,” Alanna interjected. “Telling us what to do. How to live our lives. Yada, yada, yada.”
Rosa wasn’t about to let her get away with that one. “I do no such thing. I merely point out the pros and cons. I like to make considered decisions.”
“Never mind us,” Beth told Aden when Alanna and Rosa glared daggers at each other. “The world of responsibility was placed on Rosa far too early. Our parents died young, and she took over the mantle of parent. She grew up too fast. We all did, but it was hardest on Rosa. She had to work on keeping us together as a family unit. On convincing the authorities not to remove us from the family home.”
“Tell Aden our life story, why don’t you?” Rosa interjected. She moved swiftly to change the subject. Beth was far too open and trusting. But Aden surprised her by saying, “I can’t imagine what that was like for you all. As far as I can tell, she’s succeeded. You’re all still together and acting just as family do.”
Rosa wondered what Aden’s family was like if he thought this bickering was normal. “Alanna’s just pissed she didn’t get the dolphin.”
Alanna stuck her fists on her hips. “I never get pissed!”
Beth and Rosa erupted into gales of laughter, and it must have been catching, as Aden joined in also. “I think I’m going to enjoy my stay in Raven’s Creek.”
“Me too.” Alanna winked. “Especially when I get my one-off silver dragon.”
“We’ll see,” Aden acquiesced. “I’m not promising anything until I’m sure I can deliver. My work takes time, and I won’t relinquish a single piece until I’m one hundred percent happy. And what about you, Beth? What do you want?”
“Wooden spoon earrings,” Rosa joked, but she already knew what Beth would ask for.
“I love fairies,” Beth told him as she headed back into the kitchen. “But I don’t expect you to make me anything at all.”
Beth’s comment was typical. She was the exact opposite of Alanna. Soft, gentle and quiet. There wasn’t a greedy bone in her entire body.
“Earrings!” Alanna thumbed an earlobe. “I want earrings too.”
Rosa just shook her head. Goddess, what were you thinking when you put the three of us together in the same family! “Don’t feel compelled t
o make anything,” she told Aden.
“I won’t,” he responded. “But you’ve all made me feel so welcome.” He winked at Rosa, and she flushed guiltily as they both knew it wasn’t true. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll do my best to accommodate you all.”
“That’s all we can ask,” Beth said with a soft smile when Aden wandered into the kitchen. She placed a wooden spoon in his hand. “Make yourself useful. Give that pot over there a stir.”
Rosa stood alongside Alanna and popped pistachios into her mouth one after the other while they watched the famous silversmith stir a figure eight in a pot.
“Would you look at that? He might be able to work precious metals but the way he’s handling that spoon defies gravity.” A few wines and the tension of today had eased Rosa’s suspicions somewhat, and she was actually beginning to think just maybe it would be okay for Aden to be in their circle.
“Goddess knows how he’ll fit in the studio next door,” Alanna ruminated. “But who am I to complain? The cottage is occupied, and I get a necklace as a bonus. I’m a happy witch.”
“Shhhh.” Rosa leaned in close to Alanna. “Enough with the witch talk.” Then, realizing she was, as Alanna called it, being bossy, she added, “I’m happy if you’re happy,” and realized her statement was, in part, truthful. It would have been better if Alanna were living in the cottage instead of a stranger.
Rosa returned her attention to Aden as he worked alongside Beth. A gorgeous, handsome, talented stranger with more potential than any male in a hundred-mile radius.
Passing room in the kitchen was minimal, and Beth squeezed by Aden. To give her more room, he pressed himself up against the stove but knocked a pot handle. The pot spun and wobbled. He let go of the spoon to steady the pot and it fell with a splat at his feet.
The Silver Rose Page 5
