Trust by Design (Colorado Trust 2)

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Monday morning, Gina drove around the final corner of the driveway at ten a.m. and was once again awestruck by the grandiose log structure with the sun-lit mountains rising in the background. She parked her car and pulled out a paper-wrapped canvas from in the back. At the door, she balanced the large square on the top of her foot as she leaned over to ring the bell. While waiting, she tried not to think of her disappointment that she wouldn’t get to transform this beautiful house into a home.

Without an answer to her initial ring, she pressed the doorbell again and turned to survey the front yard. There would be a lot of work to do once the spring thaw was complete. Planting the lawn, landscaping, flowers, bushes…

How she wished she could see it all. But no way could she give him the satisfaction.

The sound of the door opening spun her around. Expecting to see the redhead from the day before, her pulse jumped when she was presented with the man himself in a white T-shirt, faded blue jeans, and bare feet. She flicked her gaze back up so he wouldn’t think she was checking him out.

“Good morning,” he said.

The low timbre of his voice made her stomach quiver, but the victorious grin that accompanied the greeting triggered her irritation.

She hefted the package in both hands. “Your painting, Mr. Daley.”

His eyebrows rose at her formal tone, but instead of taking the package from her, he stood aside for her to enter. She hesitated. Never mind the man, it would not be good to go inside and be seduced by his house again.

The minuscule lift of his eyebrows challenged her to disregard every bit of common sense screaming for her to set the painting down and leave. Run would be even better.

She stepped past, but before he could shut the door, she spoke over her shoulder. “You can grab the other two in the back seat.”

“The other two?”

“I was originally going to make you pay extra for this one, but then decided to get you your money’s worth.”

“How very kind of you,” he called on his way to her car.

“Fair,” she corrected. “I’m nothing but fair.”

She set her package against the wall in the great room, then went to close the door against the spring chill after Dean carried the other two canvases inside. When he faced her, she extended her hand with the invoice.

“The gallery agreed to let you mail a check.”

He glanced at the paper, then folded it and stuffed it in his back pocket. “I’ll have Liz mail payment tomorrow. Now, let’s see what else you bought me.”

She glanced toward the door. Leave while you can.

The sound of ripping paper kept her feet right where they were. “You’re going to want to save that wrapping for when you take them to be framed,” she warned.

He uncovered all three canvases and leaned them up against the wall. Then he stood back and studied them. One was the sweeping Rocky Mountain landscape he’d chosen at the gallery. Another was of a large bull elk with massive horns, head raised in a bugle, its breath a frosted cloud against the vibrant fall setting of yellow and orange.

The last was a mountain lion in mid-muscle-rippling stride, its gracefulness and intense predatory gaze magically replicated in a still image that defied the limits of a paintbrush.

Dean stared at the tawny-colored cat long enough that she found herself holding her breath as she waited for his reaction. It was her favorite of the three.

“Wow. That’s just…wow.”

“You like it?”

“I love it.”

Her relief told her the window for escape was closing, so she turned to leave. “Good. Enjoy the paintings.”

“Gina.”

His low voice halted her halfway to the door.

“You’re good at that, aren’t you?”