Million Dollar Valentine. Rita Clay Estrada

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Million Dollar Valentine - Rita Clay Estrada Mills & Boon Temptation

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I knew that.”

      “Good, then we’ll meet tomorrow for lunch?” she asked.

      “Tomorrow,” he confirmed, glancing at his watch.

      If she hadn’t known better, she’d have said he was reluctant to end their meeting until that telltale look at the time. He obviously had an appointment scheduled. That wasn’t good for the digestion, but until she could teach him differently, it was his way.

      “See you tomorrow,” she promised with a smile. And with a wave, Crystal set off down the other side of the mall, still peering into windows and studying the various display techniques.

      She felt Blake’s eyes on her for a few moments, then she knew he’d disappeared.

      He was an oddity. So handsome, yet he didn’t seem to be quite aware of it himself. So uptight in his thoughts and actions, that he believed it was normal to be so shut off from others. So sophisticated in business, yet unable to study a window that had women’s underwear. And he had one heck of a great body, but didn’t eat carrot sticks….

      Unusual to say the least.

      Crystal knew she was a bit unconventional, but she wasn’t that far out of the loop of normal! And she was told she had a great sense of humor—of course she was told that by friends who shared the same sense of sublime silliness.

      Besides, she had as much of a right to be silly or businesslike as much as she had a right to be herself. It took her a while to realize it, but she knew now that she could be anything she wanted to be without having to fit into someone else’s idea of normal or conventional. In the past few years she’d noticed something startling: everyone’s idea of normal was different.

      Aunt Helen was right. You can’t please everyone all the time, so please yourself first—as long as it doesn’t hurt someone else.

      Her watch told her that if she hurried, she’d have ten minutes to eat her lunch. Yogurt and two pieces of fresh fruit along with a bottle of water flavored with cranberry juice awaited her in the back room.

      Surprisingly, her first day on the job at Aunt Helen’s store was the most fun she’d had in a while. She couldn’t wait to see how she felt tomorrow, when she had lunch with Blake Wright.

      Crystal grinned. It was funny to call him Blake while he called her Ms. Tynan. But she refused to give up the right to call him by his first name. In every telephone conversation with her aunt over the past two years, Helen had referred to him as Blake. Crystal wasn’t about to learn a new name for the man her aunt had spoken of. Part of her was hoping she’d come to know the same Blake as her aunt did. That Blake had a sense of humor and was a lot of fun, if her aunt was to be believed—and if the peek at him she’d just had was really real. In fact, Crystal was praying for him to be the same. The glimpses of the man she’d seen beneath his disapproving attitude was nice. Sweet. And very human.

      It was that stiff attitude he occasionally wore that she wasn’t too sure of being able to handle without giving him directions on where to take it. But then, if she could handle her boss, Tim, at the lodge, she could handle anything. Now there was a stiff. The difference was, she wasn’t the least bit interested in seeing if there was another side to Tim. She had to admit, at least to herself, that she would love to see the other side of Blake…. If only for a little while.

      BLAKE WATCHED Crystal walk away, his eyes straying from her small shoulders and tiny waist to her swaying hips. Her walk was free and sensuous and feminine. Her shoulders moved with a rhythm that was also feminine. But if he’d seen that walk on a male, he’d have called it cocky. On this woman, it was just damn sexy.

      He gave himself a mental shake, and deliberately looked away. What the hell was on his mind that he would get so wrapped up in a woman’s walk? Especially this woman?

      She was his opposite and he was astute enough to know it. Although she was beautiful in a very unusual way, there was more that called to a male than her looks. It was the light behind her eyes. The promise of her constantly uptilted lips. The softness of her body in all the right places.

      She was made for loving. Like it or not, he had to admit he was drawn to her physically. And that could never be if he wanted to keep his friendship with Helen. After all, he couldn’t be friends with the aunt, whom he genuinely liked and admired, while making love to the niece until he tired of the kook. It wasn’t right. Crystal wasn’t right for him.

      Too free-spirited.

      Too casual.

      Too…sexy.

      Blake strode to the food court and ordered a roast beef sandwich, then took it back into his office to work through lunch.

      But all through his meal, he was angry with himself for his body’s intense reaction to Crystal’s sexiness in the first place.

      She was just exactly the wrong type for him.

      BY THE TIME Crystal turned out the store lights for the night and twisted the key in the lock, she was excited. She had crammed her day with learning something new every hour, and it had paid off. Her creative juices were flowing like Niagara Falls.

      Her aunt’s business was good, with repeat customers making up at least sixty percent of the business. Her small knickknacks and floral decorations were beautiful, if a bit bland.

      But Crystal would love to buy a few different, oddball items, mix them in with the bland stuff and dress up the store with unusual, one-of-a-kind decorator touches. Do some different stuff, as her friend, Ouida Vestal, used to say.

      Still thinking of things she’d like to do, she drove to her aunt’s home. It was on the side of a hill with the desert stark and beautiful in one direction, and the beginning of a wide canyon filled with trees at the back door. Her aunt and uncle had been lucky enough to find a piece of property that had the best of both worlds and had made the most of it. Her aunt owned enough of the land to block out someone’s building and ruining her view.

      When Crystal walked into the house, she took a deep breath. The chill outside air counterpointed the scents wafting from the kitchen. Pot roast, fresh bread and some kind of pie.

      “I’m home!” she called, taking off her sweater and hanging it in the hallway. “And you’re supposed to be resting!”

      “I’m glad you’re home and I am resting!” her aunt called back.

      Crystal walked into the large den area and found her mother’s twin sitting in a deep-yellow upholstered chair with her feet on the matching ottoman. Her arm was in a cast and swathed in a beautiful silk scarf instead of the usual, hospital-issued, cotton sling. It was coordinated with her matching maroon silk pajamas. She was watching the fireplace and listening to the television.

      “How was the shop?” she asked, lifting her head for her niece’s kiss. Her hennaed hair was cut short in the back but long on top, with soft curls going in every direction. Aunt Helen was a good-looking woman. Her eyes were much like Crystal’s, a rich deep brown, but radiated the wisdom and maturity of her fifty years.

      “It was the most fun I’ve had with my clothes on.” Crystal got a slap on the bottom for that wild remark.

      Instead of commenting on the hit, she took the matching chair, propped up her feet and leaned back, loving the luxury of doing nothing. “It’s

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