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“Yep.”

“What was the rule about one-syllable answers?”

“Shall I coalesce more adjectives?”

He laughed. Deep and hearty. “You have such a smart mouth.”

They clinked rims. She told him, “Who cares whether I’m using that word correctly or not? You used curriculum vitae on me.”

“You spoke fluent French to Jean Marquis.”

“That’s to be expected. I have spent a lot of time in France, after all.”

Evan was quiet a moment as he sipped his champagne. Then asked, “You like it

there?”

“I love it there.”

“Paris is supposed to be one of the most romantic cities in the world.”

“No. It is the most romantic city in the world. But it’s still enjoyable for us singletons.”

“And you like to travel?”

“Definitely. In fact, I have to make up my mind by noon tomorrow whether I should spend a few days with my younger sister in Denver while she nurses a broken heart or try yet again to convince her to go on a cruise with my parents next week.”

“Are you going with them?”

“That’s my second decision to make. I’m not really a cruise aficionado. But my parents are great fun, so I’m willing to make the exception.”

She briefly explained the crisis she’d just weathered with her company and told Evan she could use a little R & R.

“I happen to be staying at the Four Seasons in Santa Barbara over the weekend,” he told her. “I have a speaking engagement at the university on Saturday. The resort has a fantastic spa that you could take advantage of. You could fly out with me on my jet Friday night.”

“You have a jet?” It didn’t completely shock her—her father owned a Lear. Still…this was news.

Evan said, “It’s a Gulfstream that I bought with three other surgeons. It’s currently at my disposal while I’m guest lecturing. I could have you back late Monday morning.”

“That’s Valentine’s Day,” she mused. “The ship leaves from Fort Lauderdale in the afternoon. I could make it in time.”

“Or…”

Staci glanced over her shoulder. “Or, what?”

“I guess I didn’t realize Monday was Valentine’s Day. I don’t exactly celebrate with the rest of the world.”

“Neither do I. That’s why I always hang out with my sister or my parents on that day. It’s sort of a tradition.”

“Oh. Well.” He reached for the bottle of Taittinger in the chiller alongside the tub and poured the remainder into their glasses.

“What?” she inquired.

“I wouldn’t want to interfere with a family tradition.”

“Did you have a suggestion?”

“If you’re interested in hearing it.”

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