Million Dollar Valentine. Rita Clay Estrada
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person. Although, if he was close enough to Aunt Helen to know Crystal had to get a release from her job to be here, he also knew what she did for a living. Some people were funny about masseuses. Occasionally, male clients came looking for more than just a massage, and she set them straight but fast.
Crystal smiled, pretending she had no doubts that he thought she was an upstanding citizen. “Since I’m a massage therapist, much of my income is based upon tips. I couldn’t afford to lose out. Luckily, when my aunt broke her arm, the season was ending.”
“I didn’t know there was a season for massages.” There was a dryness to his tone, but she ignored that, too. This time.
“There aren’t for some. However, I work for a lodge during the ski season and that’s very seasonal. And when the ski season is over, and before the spring tourist season begins, there are four or five dead weeks.” She scraped back another strand of her hair, letting the full length of it fall over her shoulder and down her back. “Although, last year Santa Fe didn’t have the normal lull between one season and the other. Everyone wants to visit.”
“It’s a beautiful city.”
“And a very wealthy city,” she added.
“Wealthy,” he said slowly, paying such close attention to her mouth that her skin tingled. “Is that important?”
“Only if you’re poor,” she said with a straight face. Was he kidding? Usually only the wealthy asked silly questions like that…. “You don’t happen to own this mall, do you?” she asked, pretending innocence.
He stayed serious. “No. Would it matter?”
She couldn’t keep her smile away. “Probably a lot—to you.”
Finally, Blake Wright smiled, too, and it was as if warm sunshine had flooded the flower shop. “I don’t know about that. I don’t have time to sit around and feel jealous for those who have more than I do. I enjoy what I have.”
Her eyes widened. “I thank the powers that be for everything I have, too. But I’m certainly not silly enough to turn down more blessings—or money.”
If she thought his smile was enticing, it was only because she hadn’t heard his laughter—until now. It was deep and rich and wonderful, dancing down her spine and awakening each and every nerve in her body.
He really was a very handsome man. Out of her league, though. Darn.
“I have a feeling you make your own…blessings, Ms. Tynan,” he finally answered.
“Please call me Crystal, and thank you for noticing. Yes, I do. I believe that if you don’t go after what you want, you can’t expect it to drop in your life. Just saying whatever you want isn’t enough to make it happen.”
“That’s a go-getter philosophy,” he teased. “I bet you get what you want a good fifty percent of the time.”
She spotted the twinkle in his eye. “The odds had better be more than fifty percent.”
“You’re tough,” he said, but there was a hint of admiration in his tone.
She smiled, soothed slightly by his compliment. “Thanks.” For the first time she stepped away from the counter. “But not as tough as Aunt Helen will get if she finds out I haven’t done right by her to-do list.”
He gave an absent, “Mmm,” and gave her a slow once-over.
Her casual black cotton blouse topped a red-black-brown-and-green full-tiered skirt that hung to her ankles. On her feet were doeskin soft moccasinlike boots dressed in fringe and silver, matching the conch leather belt cinching her waist. Then he noticed her fingers for the first time. A silver ring on every finger and both thumbs. Feather earrings hung to her shoulders.
“Goodness,” he murmured.
She followed his gaze down her body to her skirt. “Colorful, isn’t it?”
“All you need is a headband of beads and you’d look as if you’d time-warped from the sixties.”
Somehow, his comment seemed a little stuffy. Instead, she smiled brightly. “Darn. I was going for the triumph over Custer look. Thank you. All that, and it’s comfortable, too.”
He frowned. “Is this the way they dress in Santa Fe?”
“Yes, only a little more casual.” She glanced down at her list as if she were too busy to notice his frown. “But I dressed up for Flagstaff.”
“Does Helen know?”
For just a fleeting moment, Crystal wanted to kick him in the shin. But with her boots on, it would hurt her as much as if she were barefoot. Instead, she turned and faced him directly, her gaze locking with his. “Aunt Helen isn’t my mother. I’m a grown woman, Blake, in case you haven’t noticed.”
His gaze dropped immediately to her breasts and a small tickle of a smile edged his mouth before he looked back into her steady, brown-eyed gaze.
She waited a moment before continuing. “I choose my own clothes, friends and jobs. Now, if we have a problem with that, let’s talk about it. Otherwise, I have work to do….” She waited for him to say something. But the female part of her couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t so handsome—especially when he was smiling.
“You’re right and I apologize for talking out of turn,” he said smiling slowly.
She could have been coy, or angry or any one of a hundred other emotions. She was none of those.
Instead, she placed a hand on his broad shoulder, went up on her tiptoes and brushed his cheek with a butterfly kiss.
Then she stepped back. “My aunt would never forgive me if I didn’t forgive you. And so, I accept your apology as long as you continue to wear that wonderful aftershave.”
His blue eyes widened. “That’s a sexist remark, Ms. Tynan. I would be accused of all kind of things if I said that to you.”
“Yes, it is,” she confirmed, still silently astounded at her own reaction to his nearness. “And, with you being so cute and all, if you said it to me about my perfume, I’d probably wear it again. However, not everyone is as open and honest as I am.”
Blake laughed. “You’re a lot like your Aunt Helen, do you know that?”
She smiled in satisfaction. “In other words, you can’t get her to conform to your idea of what’s right and what’s not, either?” She gave a low chuckle. “Thank you for the compliment. It’s one of the wonderful things that bond my aunt and I together. I want to be just like her when I grow up.”
“I wouldn’t doubt you’ll succeed. Your chances are much better than fifty percent.”
So he really did have a sense of humor. How delightful! “Tell me,” she asked. “Are there any more like you at home who might have a million or two stashed away?”
“Nope. I’m the only child of a minister and his church secretary. No big money here.” He looked at her quizzically. “Is a million important?”
“Oh, yes. Remember our discussion about money?” Crystal asked. “Well, if Aunt Helen had enough of it, she wouldn’t need to bring me all the way from New Mexico. She could have hired someone locally to help her out. And I wouldn’t have had to wait to come see her. I could have visited anytime.”
Blake gave a chuckle and turned toward the door. “I wouldn’t worry about your aunt’s financial bottom line. Helen’s got as much as she needs.” When he reached the door, he gave her one more of “those” looks—the kind that said “you’re out of my frame of reference, but you are still an intriguing woman.” She’d seen “those” looks before. In fact, she’d given one or two to men in her twenty-six years.
“Don’t take my concern wrong,” she said softly. “I’m not the worrying kind.”
“I