Читать книгу Million Dollar Valentine - Rita Clay Estrada - Страница 8

FROM THE expensive suit and the way he carried himself, the good-looking guy could have been a millionaire. From the frown, he looked like an uptight CEO. But, from the intense gaze of his penetrating deep-blue eyes, he resembled a lover.

An interesting…contradiction.

Clutching the to-do list her aunt had instructed her to follow before opening the flower and gift shop door, Crystal Tynan watched intently as he approached the shop’s front door.

He stopped in the doorway, his very presence blocking all light. His suit was light-gray with a fine thread of blue woven through the material. His sandy-brown hair was thick and well cut. He had a strong face; nice cheekbones, a well-sculpted mouth and a great chin. His shoulders were broad, and the rest of him was just plain easy on the eyes, as Crystal’s Aunt Helen would say. From her aunt’s description, Crystal bet this was Blake Wright, manager of the Granite Run Mall just outside of Flagstaff, Arizona.

His midnight-blue eyes stared back, assessing and evaluating her just as intently. Although he wasn’t returning her smile, he was interested, too, or he wouldn’t be so focused. Either that or he was even more uptight than she’d first assumed.

It was two days after New Year’s Day, and the mall would soon be as packed with shoppers as it had been during the holiday season—no doubt because of the after-holiday sales. This was Crystal’s first day of filling in for her Aunt Helen and so far she hadn’t accomplished more than two things on the list. Thank goodness the other employee—the one who knew how to run the store—would be in soon.

She placed the sheaf of papers on top of the glass showcase filled with small silver and gold trinkets, and held out her hand. “Hello, Blake Wright. It’s so nice to meet the man my Aunt Helen loves.”

He blinked twice, obviously not expecting that greeting. “I beg your pardon?”

Certainly he didn’t take her literally. “Don’t you manage this mall?”

“Yes.” He sounded cautious as he took a few steps into the shop and faced her.

He was the right guy. She relaxed again. “Well, my aunt talks about you all the time.”

Those wonderful blue eyes narrowed. Still no smile.

Obviously her aunt didn’t talk about Crystal as much as she talked about him. Or—maybe he didn’t understand her. After all, she did have a rather heavy East Texas drawl. “I’m Crystal Tynan,” she said slowly and distinctly. “I’m here to manage the shop until Valentine’s Day, while Aunt Helen recuperates from her broken arm.”

Finally, recognition turned his eyes an iridescent blue. He took her hand in his. The tight look on his face slowly receded. “I’m glad you could make it,” he said. “She was worried you wouldn’t be able to get away from your, uh, job.”

Crystal gave a light laugh, intrigued by the man. When his expression eased, he seemed like a different 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 didn’t think so for a moment.” He hesitated only a second or two. “Goodbye, Ms. Tynan,” he stated formally.

“Goodbye, Blake,” she stated informally.

Reluctantly, he continued on his way, but he gave one more sexy look over his shoulder before he left the shop.

Crystal took an extra moment to watch him walk through the mall toward his office. He had a nice walk, but it would have been more fun to watch him without his suit jacket on….

BLAKE FELT Crystal’s eyes on him all the way down to the mall office. He was irritated, stimulated and self-conscious by that knowledge.

From the moment he’d seen Crystal Tynan, he’d been intrigued. Helen had called and told him this would be Crystal’s first day and had asked him to welcome her, please. Instead, he’d forgotten what he went there for.

Crystal was a piece of work, he told himself, trying to minimize all the feelings he’d just gone through. That woman had gotten under his skin in less than a moment of not-too-close contact. By the time ten minutes had passed, he’d been intrigued in spite of himself.

She was very unlike the kind of woman he was usually drawn to. He liked a more chic appearance, a more conservative type of woman. This woman, though beautiful in her own way, looked like a free spirit. Not his type at all. To his mind, she was dressed all wrong for a store owner—especially for as elegant a shop as Helen’s floral and gift shop. Although Flagstaff was part of the Southwest and many of the clerks dressed like Crystal, she was representing the owner. His friend.

He could have kicked himself for ignoring the real reason he’d wanted her dressed differently. He had to be honest. Her clothes were fine. He’d just wanted her to be a little more like him in her choice of clothing. Perhaps a little tailored. Maybe wearing high heels that gave the illusion of legs from here to there….

Where the hell did that thought come from? Blake ditched that thought instantly, before he could react to the image.

Too late.

He wasn’t looking for complications in his life right now. And Helen was just his friend, and all he needed to worry about was whether or not Crystal Tynan would maintain the shop’s image and do the best job for Helen. The store wasn’t called Entrée for nothing. It catered to Flagstaff’s richest, most elite clientele, creating custom-designed floral arrangements and selling high-end unique gift items.

Wrong image or not, God she was beautiful. She had great hair. Taffy-colored, it sheered down her back almost touching her softly rounded hips. And those eyes. They were something. Big, uptilted, light and toasty-warm-brown and beautiful. A man could get lost in those eyes. He’d love to be looking down into them while…Squelch that thought, too. Reaching the office area of the mall, he opened the glass door and entered.

This was his favorite time of day. The mall held only employees and several mall-walkers, usually senior citizens who moved through in groups at a steady pace, enjoying the exercise as well as the controlled air-conditioning or heating. There weren’t any problems—yet.

About an hour from now, many of the walkers would join together in one of the small lunch counters or eating establishments and have breakfast and lively talks.

By noon, the theater would open its doors and the mall would be packed. Combine those two items with the after-holiday sales going on, and there would be chaos. He hoped Crystal could handle the crush.

“Hey, Marilyn,” he said as he walked by his secretary’s desk. An older woman, she was efficient and loyal. She’d been the mall’s administrative secretary since the mall had opened over six years ago. He had inherited her, and he was damn lucky to have done so. “I’ll be in my office for the next hour.”

“Okay. Fresh coffee in the pot. Let me know if you need anything,” she called, not bothering to look up. Instead, she continued going through the pile of mail stacked on top of her desk. She’d give him his portion later.

After he finished with the mail and before he had the meeting with the department store executives about the renovation plans, he might check and see how Crystal Tynan was doing. It was the prudent thing to do, seeing as she was new to the area and the business….

“AND THEN YOU CAN ADD one or two of these,” Linda instructed, picking up several large orange silk flowers.

She looked up at Crystal as if she needed guidance, but pursed her lips to keep quiet. Linda was about ten years older than Crystal, half the height and twice the size—and just as sweet as could be.

A few customers wandered around the shop and both women had already approached them, but the lookers wanted to continue looking. Meanwhile, Crystal stood behind the counter while Linda demonstrated the basics of arranging.

Crystal took one stem, stood back and eyed the arrangement before carefully inserting the orange flower in the side center.

Linda smiled. “Very good,” she said, pride evident in her voice as she praised her new student. “The symmetry is excellent.”

“Thank you.” Crystal gave a critical eye to the floral arrangement, then looked back at her teacher. “You really think so?”

“Definitely. It’s very unusual, kinda like you, but it works. Kinda like…”

“I know,” Crystal laughed. “Like me.”

“Is that for sale?” one of the customers asked as she reached the counter with her purchases. It took Crystal a moment to realize she was talking about the arrangement.

“Oh, it’s…” Linda began.

“It certainly is.”

“How much?”

“Thirty-three dollars,” Crystal announced calmly. “Marked down for the January sales.”

The woman smiled. “I’ll take it.”

With an efficiency of movement, Linda took the woman’s charge card and wrote up the item, then packed it carefully in wrap and bag. It wasn’t until the woman left the store with her new purchase that both of them burst out laughing.

“Told you that it was unique. You’ve got talent,” Linda said in satisfaction.

“That and thirty-three bucks will get you a floral arrangement from Entrée,” Crystal stated in a low whisper. “Let’s do one more before I take a break and stalk around the mall.”

“You’re on.” Linda reached for another bowl, a brilliant purple one this time. “Get going, Ms. Tynan.”

Crystal began choosing silk flowers from their holders, red, gold and a lighter purple; Mardi Gras colors. As she picked one, held it against the other and continued to choose, she decided it was about time to ask other questions. “Linda? What can you tell me about Blake Wright?” Not that she was interested. She was just curious. After all, she should be interested in her aunt’s friend.

Linda pursed her lips thoughtfully, but there was a curious light in her eyes. “Well, he’s the manager of this mall, and has been for two years. They brought him in from somewhere up north. He’s thirty-something and strict on his rules and regulations about the mall. A little bit of a stuffed shirt, but the women don’t seem to mind. And he used to date one of the buyers of the main department store here.”

“Is she still in Flagstaff?”

“No, she was transferred.” Linda frowned. “He didn’t seem half as upset as she was, but you know how men are. When it comes to emotions, they never show anything.”

Although a little on the shy side, Linda obviously held very firm opinions in a general kind of way. Especially about the male species.

“I don’t run into too many men like that,” Crystal murmured, sticking another flower into the wire cage at the bottom of the vase. “I work with a lot of guys who do nothing but moan about women all day long.”

Linda’s eyes widened, suspiciously. “Really?”

Nodding her head Crystal laughed.

They worked all morning, Crystal following Linda like a shadow as she learned the quirks and procedures of the shop and her Aunt Helen’s way of doing business.

Having a myriad of jobs over the years made it easy to walk into a store and pick up the routine pretty quickly. Before she became a masseuse, she’d had a new job every quarter. It was fun. So was working in her aunt’s shop. It wasn’t for long, and then she’d be back at her own job and seeking the elusive millionaire who would fall in love and marry her, allowing her access to a whole new world.

Hers was a simple plan, really. She would enjoy her life to the fullest, trying all the things she wanted to try in her quest for the perfect career opportunity—something that would fill her days with challenge and laughter and money. Hard work and enjoyment went hand in hand to her way of thinking. She was willing to search for the finest of relationships, never settling for something less than the best.

She firmly believed that people made their own happiness. From what she’d seen, ninety percent of someone’s happiness came from the mate that he or she chose. For her, the best relationships had to do with the right man. The second ingredient for happiness was money. With it, many of the everyday problems of life were solved before they began.

Ergo: she needed to fall in love and marry a millionaire who possessed a whole list of qualities Crystal required—trust, sense of humor, nice looks and a sense of adventure. And one who loved her as much as she loved him. That was a must.

How hard could that be? When working at the exclusive hotel, she was in the right business and the right place to meet wealthy businessmen. In fact, she’d met several, but, as of yet, not the right one. It wasn’t that money was the only criteria. She needed more than money, but money was part of the equation. That sense of humor thing was really important, too. So was trust.

Keeping her goal of the perfect relationship in sight left all thoughts of entertaining a deeper relationship with Blake Wright out of her personal picture. He was sexy and handsome, but he wasn’t wealthy. That meant she wouldn’t look any further.

It wasn’t that Blake wasn’t worth a second look; it was that she had her heart set in a different direction. A different goal.

“Lunchtime,” Linda said, touching her arm. “Shelly will be here in a few minutes to help cover for you. But if you want, why don’t you go now and look around a little? We don’t have any crunch to deal with right now.”

“Thanks,” Crystal said, reaching for her small, crocheted purse. Slinging it over her shoulder, she gave a wave and walked out.

Five minutes later, Crystal stared at the particularly unusual piece of art in a store window as she began walking away—only to walk right into Blake Wright’s arms.

Her first reaction was a shiver of apprehension at the scent of danger.

Her second reaction was an exhilarating sense of delight.

But it wasn’t the same reaction for Blake Wright. The handsome man was frowning down at her, his hands holding her arms as if they were iron railings and he was falling….