The Art of Love (The Windswept Saga) by Tommie Conrad Read Free Book Online

the computer.”  She found a seat close to him and he angled the monitor so she could get a clear view.  “The paintings are catalogued in this program.  It’s viewable anywhere in the world via the Internet.  Anyway, we don’t remove them from the program once they’ve been purchased; we mark them as sold and a chain of provenance begins.  It sounds complicated but it’s fairly simple.  Even a cowboy like me gets it.” He grinned and she warmed inside.  She’d have to get past the subtle effect he had on her if she hoped to work here without…well, never mind.  “Any questions?” he asked helpfully.
    “I don’t think so,” she said with a firm nod.  “It’s like anything else.  I’ll have to adjust to it.” 
    He smiled again.  “Did Alison manage to pull you onboard with her mercantile?”
    “I’m a believer.  I think it’ll be a success.”
    “Me too.  She was reluctant for the first five minutes, but CJ could sell ice water to the devil.”  He met her eyes, found himself unable to look away.  “He always was the charmer in the family.”
    Taylor cocked her head to one side.  “Come on, you could be pretty charming if the nee d arose.”
    “You’ve gotta be able to hide your true intentions in order to charm someone,” he countered, “and I can’t hide anything.  Never could.”
    Taylor felt her eyes water.  “That’s not true.  You hid it pretty well…”
    “What?” he asked, well aware of what she’d referenced.
    “When I left you.”
    He frowned, his jaw set hard.  His eyes betrayed him, maintaining their warmth.  “Had to.   I had to be okay.  We were headed in different directions and I knew it.  I couldn’t tie you down. You’d already lost your dad.  You needed to break free and spread your wings.”
    Taylor stared at the computer screen, not focusing on the images but distracting herself nonetheless.  “I used to wonder about what would happen if I ran to you in New York.  And I don’t mean it in an impu re way—I was happily married—but just…would I go up and introduce myself?  Would I recognize you?  Would you remember me?”
    Yeah, I would have known you anywhere, his mind rejoined.  But what he said aloud was, “Water under the bridge.  I probably left New York before you arrived.  It’s unlikely our paths would have crossed.”  He smiled, looked away, and dug in his desk until he found a form.  “This’ll be in tomorrow’s paper.  Grand opening Saturday.  Is that okay for you?”
    Taylor nodded, taken aback by the change in conversation, the shift in personality.  Chandler was trying excessively hard to hide his feelings, and it wasn’t working.  Who was she to judge?  She was doing the same damned thing.  There was enough unsaid between them to fill a book.
    “Saturda y would be fine.  Will you always need me to work Saturdays?”
    He shook his head.  “I was thinking I’d only keep the place open five days a week, for now.  We’ll see how it goes.”  He tapped his fingers nervously on the desk.  “Invite your mom, too.  I’d lo ve to see her.”
    “Of course.”  She looked his way, found Chandler deep in thought.  “What’s on your mind, cowboy?”
    He replied with a short laugh, and trailed his hand over his face, shielding his eyes.  “Remember that time we went horseback riding and…”
    “Oh, my God,” she said, her face crinkling under the weight of her smile.  “We stopped to water the horses, and mine ran away.  Nice.  Give your girlfriend the most unreliable mount in the entire stable.”  
    “He’s still alive, you know.”
    “Seriously?”
    “Swea r to God.  Little Chase learned to ride on him.”
    Taylor slapped a hand over her mouth, laughed through her fingers.  Chandler joined in a second later, a wonderful, virile sound that originated deep in his chest.  “ I needed that,” she announced.  “I needed a good laugh.”
    “Me too,” he confessed.  He held out