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loved the color, but I couldn’t feel your emotional connection with the subject.”
    Rey rolled her eyes. Her dislike of Craig must have spilled over into his portrait.
    Evelyn continued, “I’m sending those two paintings back. Only your absolute best work goes on display.”
    “I agree.” Maybe her friends at the gay bar needed some new artwork. If Craig had a fit, so much the better.
    “The sculpture for the Stuarts’ Roman bath is crucial to your career, Rey. How many modern artists get commissioned for a life-size marble statue? This might put you on the map. If we use this as a springboard to move away from the male nudes, you could be the next Glenna Goodacre.”
    Rey’s stomach flipped. As always, Evelyn knew exactly which buttons to push. Glenna Goodacre was Rey’s idol. The American artist had sculpted the Vietnam Women’s Memorial on display at the Mall in Washington, D.C. “What do you suggest, Evelyn? I don’t want to goof this up.”
    “In a word, dear, passion. ”
    “Passion?” Rey grimaced. “Passion for my artwork?”
    Evelyn cleared her throat delicately. “Sometimes when an artist is concentrating on her career, certain things fall by the wayside. Like family, friends and other more, uh, personal relationships.”
    Like sex, Rey mentally translated.
    Evelyn continued, “It might be a good idea to take a short break and recharge your batteries.”
    Rey didn’t think Evelyn meant the batteries for the gadget in her nightstand. “I see.”
    “I hope I haven’t hurt your feelings, Rey.” Evelyn paused. “But if you don’t produce a phenomenal piece of artwork for the Stuarts, I will have difficulties finding such prestigious and lucrative commissions for you.”
    Rey knew what that meant: screw this up and kiss your career goodbye. “Thanks for letting me know, Evelyn. You can count on me to do a great job.”
    “Thanks, dear. I’ll let you get back to work.” Evelyn hung up.
    Rey stared out the window. Heavy gray snow clouds churned, further dampening her mood. The door buzzer sounded and she started. The adrenaline rush of starting a new project always made her jumpy. She refused to think that her nerves might be from seeing Marco again.
    She crossed to the foyer, her comfortable shoes squeaking slightly on the cement floor. She stopped and consciously slowed her breathing, tugging open the heavy sliding door. Nanook of the North stood on her doorstep.
    “Marco, is that you?” He was finally dressed for the cold weather, a heavy scarf covering his face. He even wore dark glasses despite the overcast day.
    “In the flesh. Or soon to be in the flesh, right?”
    Rey caught herself smiling at his joke before she put on her professional demeanor. He stomped the snow off his tan boots and walked inside. She closed the door and he pulled off his scarf and glasses, pushing back the hood on a chocolate-brown ski parka.
    “I took your advice and dressed for the cold. I finally have some feeling in my fingers and toes.” He tugged off his heavy gloves and unzipped his jacket.
    “I’ll take your coat.” The Velcro on the hood stuck to his sweater, and without thinking she moved behind him to pull it loose.
    He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Eager to get to work?”
    “You’re a man of many layers,” she quipped, fingering the ecru turtleneck collar under his heavy sweater.
    “What do you mean?” His voice was casual but histrapezius and deltoid muscles tightened over his shoulder blades. She realized she was still touching him and gripped his thick down coat with both hands.
    “Layers of clothing. They keep you warmer.” What did he think she meant? Something more personal?
    “Right.” His shoulders relaxed and he turned to face her. “I am a man of many layers of clothing just waiting to be peeled away.” He was so close she saw the tiny black flecks of beard along the smooth skin of his cheeks.
    Rey dug her fingers into the coat to keep from running them along