Santa Fe Fortune & How to Marry a Matador

masculinity in one pinkie than the pallid and self-possessed Robert contained from head to toe.
    Coffee, Gwen reminded herself, noting by the clock on the nightstand it was almost time. The sooner she got this over and done with, the better. If she could negotiate the paperwork without chancing to shake Dan’s hand, all the better. Even after the coffee, Gwen didn’t trust herself to touch him. This was what Marian called an unwelcome consequence of celibacy.
    Gwen adjusted her bra, shifting her bosom into its proper place, then, quite as an afterthought, she was sure, gave her cleavage the tiniest little burst of Midnight Jasmine perfume.

    Dan looked up as the door chime sounded. There she stood, looking as gorgeous as a desert sunset, the colors of her sexy, short dress swirling about her in mauve, gold, and russet browns. “Are you ready for me?” she asked, dark eyes sparkling with anticipation.
    Dan thought he was, in fact had prepared for her all afternoon, but now he felt as awkward and uncertain as a teenager. “Of course,” he said, working to get the words out in a businesslike manner. “Come on in.” Her womanly scent overtook him as his eyes trailed from her ankles to her cleavage to her faintly colored cheekbones. “Please, have a seat.” He indicated a spot, nearly missing his own chair. Dan scooted onto it as she pulled hers in toward the desk just a tad too close. The sweet angles of her knees pressed into his ever so slightly.
    A crimson blush warmed her shoulders and swept up her delicate throat. “Oh! Oh my goodness. I’m so sorry!” she cried, backing up.
    “No worries! Really,” he protested.
    Gwen sat up a little straighter in her chair and crossed her legs as Dan opened the file in front of him. He passed her the paperwork with an appreciative gaze.
    “You look lovely tonight,” he said, unable to stop himself.
    Gwen met his eyes, her cheeks still aglow. “Thank you. You look…really super too.”
    Dan reined himself in, applying his best businesslike tone. “I believe everything’s in order there,” he said as she fanned through the pages. “If you’d like to look it over, I can answer any questions.”

    The sun dipped low outside, casting a tangerine hue throughout the wide-open spaces of the gallery as Gwen sorted through the agreement. After a few moments of studied concentration, she addressed Dan with a relieved smile. “It all seems straightforward.” She’d worried it might be complicated, filled with legalese and fine-print sections. On the contrary, it basically laid out what they had discussed at lunch, with a few boilerplate clauses she supposed were included in most contracts of this kind. “Where do I sign?”
    Dan indicated the line, then added his own signature to the page.
    “Have you come up with any contacts? I mean, people who might buy my art?”
    Dan smiled indulgently. “Don’t you think we ought to get it here first?”
    “Right! I’ll have Marian send it out tomorrow. Like I said, it’s all boxed and ready to go. All she has to do is call for shipping.”
    Dan wrote some numbers on a small notepad on the desk. “This is our account number for Southwest Express. Have your sister call this phone number and bill it to us. She can let them know where and when to pick up the packages.”
    “Well, thanks, that’s very gracious. That will help a lot.” Gwen couldn’t let him know that her wallet was paper-thin or that her sister was destitute.
    “I’ve actually already sent out a couple of emails, feelers, if you will, to gallery contacts who might have an interest in an East Coast ocean scene or two.”
    Gwen felt her face warm with excitement. “That’s wonderful!” She fought an urge to race around the desk and hug him.
    “As soon as the pieces arrive,” he continued, “I’ll start making follow-up calls. I’m hoping to have some serious buyers in looking by the end of the week. Assuming the shipment goes as planned.”
    Gwen sprang from her seat and lunged for his hand. “I don’t know how to thank you,” she said, taking his hand in hers and holding it firmly.
    His gaze wrapped around her, trapping her in his heat. “It’s my pleasure, really,” he said, exerting delicate pressure against her palm. Little tingles raced up Gwen’s arm, and instantly she knew she’d made a mistake. She’d told herself to keep her distance. Now, all she wanted to do was get closer still. Gwen released his grip, attempting to steady