The Wedding Wager. Sara Orwig

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The Wedding Wager - Sara Orwig


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gave her a crooked smile. “Does that mean arrogance? That’s what it sounds like.”

      She had to smile in return. “Definitely. But I’d like to stay on your good side as much as possible on this trip, so I’m trying to be polite.”

      “Don’t be polite with me. But staying on my good side—that’s fine. What are your plans for the future, Megan? Do you intend to always keep your gallery in Santa Fe, even if you divide your days between there and the ranch?”

      “Yes. Santa Fe is home and perfect for us,” she said, aware her hand was still in his, as he ran his thumb back and forth over her wrist. His touches added fuel to the lust she battled.

      “I love Santa Fe,” she continued, “and I never want to move from there. I always hoped Ethan would grow up and stay nearby, but that isn’t realistic, I know. Now that he’ll have time with you, heaven knows what he’ll do when he’s grown.”

      “That’s far away,” Jared said. “Do you like to swim?”

      “Actually, I love to. I guess because there was little chance to when I was growing up, and then there aren’t many opportunities in Santa Fe. I don’t have a suit, though. There’s no need to keep one at the ranch.”

      “We’ll stop and I’ll get you one.”

      “I’ll buy my suit,” she said, laughing.

      He smiled. “That’s better,” he said, touching the corner of her mouth and running his finger lightly along her lower lip, building a warmth in her. “I promise to get a real laugh out of you before the night is over.”

      “Stick to why we’re here, Jared,” she said quietly. “This is an interlude to work out a plan for our future concerning Ethan. It’s not to get reacquainted all over again. Not at all.”

      “What’s wrong with renewing a friendship?” he asked.

      “It was more than a friendship, and I don’t want a broken heart twice,” she said, hoping she never hurt again as badly as she had the year he left.

      “I promise, I don’t intend to hurt you,” he said.

      “Then keep these few days relatively impersonal. I’m working at this, Jared. Don’t make it complicated and more difficult,” she instructed briskly.

      “I wouldn’t think of it,” he said, once again leaning back in his chair. “So, tell me about a typical day in your life. What do you and Ethan do?”

      “Through the school year, Ethan is in a private school and I spend most of the day in my studio. I have someone who runs the gallery for me, except on Wednesdays and Fridays, when I run it myself. I have three salespeople who work in the gallery for me at different hours, not all at the same time, but there are always two of us present. It’s easier that way.”

      “I haven’t been to Santa Fe in years. Not since you moved there. What’s the name of your gallery?” he asked, locking his fingers behind his head and stretching out his long legs. Looking totally relaxed, he reminded her of a leopard or tiger, some large cat lazing and half asleep, yet able to pounce in a flash. Except Jared would never physically pounce. His methods were emotional and mental. “Wait, let me guess,” he said. “Sorenson Gallery.”

      “Am I that unimaginative?” she asked, smiling at him. He smiled in return. “I toyed with some less ordinary names, but when I opened it, it was all new and exciting, and I was trying to get established and make a name for myself, so it became Sorenson Gallery. That was about the same year you opened your first restaurant in Dallas—Dalton’s, I believe.”

      “I used my name for the same reason you did,” he said quietly. “You kept up, did you?”

      She shrugged. “My aunt and uncle knew people who knew your family, so word got around. In some ways we’re in a small world.”

      “One that got far more interesting when you came back into my life,” he added.

      “Jared, is it possible for you to avoid flirting?”

      “Not with you,” he replied with an enticing smile. He leaned forward. “You look elegant, but there’s one flaw.”

      “Oh, what’s that?” she asked, trying not to care, yet aware how close he was again.

      “You would look much better,” he said and reached up to remove the clip holding her hair, “without this.” Her thick curtain of black hair tumbled on her shoulders and back. “There, that’s perfect,” he said.

      She smiled and shook her head to get her hair away from her face. “You may like it better, but it’s not as convenient.”

      “I definitely like it better. Sacrifice convenience to please me. I’ll appreciate it.”

      “How’s the weather where we’re headed?”

      “It’s beautiful. Perfect, too.”

      “Enough of that!” she retorted, his compliment pleasing her.

      She settled back and listened, chatting with him, laughing at some of his stories. The day passed surprisingly fast, and she realized she was enjoying his company, even though each minute with him brought back memories of being together. Too often, she dreaded when they got to the point of this trip.

      “We must be getting close.” The deep blue of the Gulf caught her eye. “Are you in town?”

      “No. I have a villa on the coast. We’ll have total privacy.”

      “I don’t think we’ll require total privacy, but it’ll be nice.”

      It was a long trip, but eventually they landed and deplaned, and Jared escorted her to a limo where his chauffeur and bodyguard stood waiting.

      Within minutes, Jared and Megan were driven into town to a small, exclusive shop to look for a swimsuit. While Jared stood near the front window and talked on his cell phone, she was shown a variety of suits. Selecting a half dozen, she tried them on without showing them to Jared. She made her selection and dressed again, emerging from the dressing room.

      “I didn’t get to see you model the suits,” Jared said with a twinkle in his eyes.

      “You’ll see me soon enough when you swim with me.”

      “I’m counting the minutes,” he said, and she smiled.

      “Always flirting, Jared. If we aren’t fighting,” she amended.

      “I hope to be done with the latter,” he said, and there was a solemn note in his voice that made her feel he was sincere in wanting to work something out in cooperation. She remembered he was a master at convincing people to do what he wanted, and wondered if his words were shallow or really held meaning.

      For a moment she gazed into his brown eyes and had a pang of longing for what could have been between them. Shaking off the wishful thinking, she started to open her purse.

      Stopping her, Jared took the suit from her hand. “I’ll get this,” he said in a tone that ended her argument.

      As she watched, Jared purchased two more identical ones.

      She laughed. “Jared, I’m not in a swim contest. I only need one suit.”

      “You never know. Always be prepared. Why not?”

      “Because it’s a waste of your money,” she said, wondering about his extravagant lifestyle, and how much Ethan’s life was about to change. And perhaps her own.

      “Then let me worry about it,” he said, smiling at her. She stopped protesting.

      They drove out of town and thick trees and bushes crowded the narrow highway until they turned into iron gates and Jared waved at a man who returned the greeting.

      “How often are you here?” Megan asked.

      “A few weeks out of the year.


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