The Sometime Bride

France, and I’ll see what I can do.”
    In an instant, Gwen retracted every uncharitable thought she’d had about him. When she’d first walked into the swanky, upscale warehouse and spied him double-checking the pricing on a large wall weaving, she’d imagined him incredibly stuck-up. Who wouldn’t be with that six-foot build and well-proportioned frame that spoke of power and unerring self-control? She’d pegged him as the rigid sort who never took no for an answer and considered his own words the final determinant. Now that he was showing a small sliver of humanity, she realized she might have misjudged him.
    “I’d love to talk again,” she said, meaning it sincerely. “When’s best for you?”
    “How about tomorrow at lunch? Will that work?”
    Ms. Holstein, his business partner, Gwen presumed, had proposed that Gwen make a little vacation out of her stay in Santa Fe while she was at it. Her sister Marian had thought it was a fine idea too. “Go for it, Gwen! Now’s your chance to finally get away!” What Marian didn’t know, and Gwen hadn’t been prepared to tell her, was that Gwen’s coming to Santa Fe had a whole lot to do with her.
    “I’m booked at the inn for ten days,” she said, smiling softly. “So, lunch tomorrow is fine.”
    Holbrook surprised her with a smile of his own. “Awesome.” He nabbed a gallery card and quickly penned something on the back. “Let’s meet here. Something tells me the conversation might flow a little better between us given a couple of avocado margaritas.”
    “Avocado?” she retorted, half stunned, half horrified.
    Holbrook gave a genuine chuckle as she accepted his card. “Nobody’s forcing the hard stuff on you. I’m sure there will be tea and soda available too.”
    There was a twinkle in his eye that set her tailbone tingling. Slow down there, sister, Gwen told herself. This is strictly business now. Not anywhere near a date.
    “What time?” she asked primly, pinning her clutch to her side.
    He studied her in an amused way. “One o’clock okay?”
    “One sounds fine!” she said, scurrying toward the exit before she could do or say something absurd.
    “Watch the…!”
    Gwen spun toward him, noting she’d nearly upset a pretty, handblown glass vase with the edge of her bag. She grimaced, slinking out the door as the gaping Californians gawked on.
    Once outside and beyond sight of the gallery’s windows, Gwen snatched her bag from beneath her arm and whacked herself soundly on the forehead. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She might have blown the whole thing. And not just by breaking a priceless piece of art. The way she’d started things out had been nothing short of shameless. Crafting a confrontation with the primary gallery owner. Clearly, that could lead to nothing but butting heads.
    Gwen felt a warmth surge through her, recalling their close encounter of the nearly carnal kind. There was more to Dan Holbrook than met the eye. Hadn’t he just proved that with his turn of kindness at the end? But the truth of the matter was that whatever sort of man he was, or wasn’t, was beside the point. Gwen had come to Santa Fe on a mission, and that mission involved dollar signs. She didn’t just want the money; she needed it. Twenty thousand in cash, and she wasn’t leaving New Mexico without it.

    Dan finished business quickly with the couple from Los Angeles after offering sincere apologies for making them wait. They’d prearranged to purchase the desert photo series, and everything, including price negotiations, thank goodness, had been settled with Nancy in advance. It was a simple matter of the pair presenting a check and Dan providing the receipt. In the morning, he’d arrange for shipping, and Nancy’s gallery assistant would be in to help with the details. That would be the simple part of Dan’s day. Lunchtime could prove more problematic.
    Dan chided himself for suggesting Gwen meet him at La Cantina rather than here. Outwardly, he told himself that he was being charitable. Gwen had seemed so uptight at the gallery, perhaps a more comfortable venue would be less intimidating. He’d read her résumé and understood that if she sold through Holbrook and Holstein, it would be her first real sale, her official launch in the art world. But deep in the veiled recesses of his soul, Dan suspected a slight ulterior motive. He hadn’t enjoyed the company of an attractive woman in ages, and this was a safe way to do it. Lunch in the