Rita Estrada - Million Dollar Valentine

“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.