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Marisol Fairfax DuMonde left as quick as she’d come, and Shane spent the remainder of the afternoon getting his studio set up to his liking and trying his damnedest not to think about Bobbi and their screwed-up situation. The sun was starting to wane when he finished, and Shane knew he wouldn’t be getting any actual work done, so he locked up and began the trek across the property to where his bike was parked.

He’d taken just a few steps when he noticed a group of young ladies, there by the largest oak tree he’d ever seen. They were ballerinas, from the looks of it, dressed in delicate dresses, complete with frills and tulle, some as young as four or five, and others in their teens. They were posing for a photographer. Shane took a moment to appreciate the artistry and contrast of such soft pinks and purples and feminine shape, posing against the backdrop of age and strength that the large tree provided.

He thought about the dancers as he settled onto his bike and did up the strap of his helmet. And thinking about those dancers made him think of Dora Lee, and as he thought of Dora Lee, an idea came to mind. He made a mental note to drop by the diner before coming back to the plantation tomorrow. He pulled out his cell and checked it, noted nothing from Bobbi, though there were several text messages from his sister-in-law Betty and a few fro

m his agent, Fiona. He ignored those and sent a message to Bobbi. He kept it short and simple.

I’m coming.

By the time he pulled into the bed-and-breakfast, it was closing in on five o’clock, and he hurried inside, intent on seeing the woman who was never far from his mind. He’d taken exactly two steps when a throat was cleared in dramatic fashion from the parlor to his right. Shane shot a quick look that way and found Coral Adelaide watching him from one of the overstuffed chairs by the window.

He would bet his last dollar the woman had been there waiting on him special. In the space of a week, this woman had come to mean something to Bobbi Jo, and Shane decided he’d be better off with Coral as an ally instead of an enemy.

She wasn’t exactly nasty in her study of him, but she sure was a tad frosty. No problem. Shane could handle an old woman from the South. Not to be an arrogant bastard or anything, but he knew exactly what kind of effect he had on the opposite sex, no matter what age. He changed course and came to a standstill just inside the pink-and-white room. It was nauseatingly feminine, and Coral looked right at home.

He looked her in the eye and gave her his undivided attention. Then he smiled at her. Put some effort into it. And…nothing.

Shit, he thought. She was gonna be a hard nut to crack.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” he said, still holding on to that smile. “Things were a little tense the first time.”

“I know who you are.” She settled herself a bit, as if she was stiff from all that sitting she’d been doing while waiting for him to come back. “And I know why you’re here.”

Shane could play this one of two ways. He could keep going with the charm, pour it on as thick as he could and hope it stuck somehow. Or he could go the no-bullshit route and throw his cards on the table. He watched Coral a few seconds longer and decided the no-bullshit route was the way to go. Mostly because she seemed to be immune to the whole charm thing.

“I’m here to win back my wife.”

“You’ve got a long road ahead of you.”

“Nothing I haven’t had to traverse before.”

She looked at him over the tops of a pair of round glasses. “You sure do have a lot of tattoos.”

Okay. She was trying to trip him up. “I like art.”

“Is that what they are?”

“In my book.”

She scrunched her nose a bit. “Does Bobbi Jo have any of them tattoos?”

“She does.”

“You don’t say. She surely don’t seem the type.”

Shane hid a smile because clearly, Coral Adelaide didn’t know Bobbi all that well. It wasn’t that long ago she was raising hell and keeping her father and gramps up most nights.

“She’s fragile right now. You need to know that.” Coral was firm in her assessment.

Okay. She really didn’t know Bobbi Jo, because the woman he knew was about as far from fragile as Shane was from the damn moon.

“And she’s searching for something I don’t even think she knows she’s searching for. Not yet, at least. So you make sure you give her space when she wants it and don’t overwhelm the poor thing with that smile of yours. I know how lethal it is.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Coral ignored his jab. “If you do those things, you and I will get on just fine.”

A little annoyed at a stranger telling him how to deal with his wife, it took a bit for Shane to keep a straight face and not politely tell Coral Adelaide to go suck it.

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