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He had a sparse wardrobe, all of it good quality. He seemed to have only one good suit—and a tuxedo. She was impressed with that. If she ever got her own one-woman-show in New York, maybe Tristan could wear the tux.

But then she reminded herself that it would be well in the future and by then Tris would probably be married to some hometown girl and have a couple of kids.

The thought made her frown.

She looked around the room until she found some index cards and tore one of them into six pieces. On each one she wrote some little ditty, nothing important, just meant to make Tristan smile.

T and J sittin’ in a tree . . .

T J T

When all six had something on them, she slipped them into the pockets of his clean and pressed jeans. She saved the one with the hearts on it for the inside pocket of his tux.

Smiling, she went downstairs to look for his orchids. She hadn’t seen them on the first time around.

There was an old-fashioned conservatory off the living room. Whereas the room at Mrs. Wingate’s house was beautiful, it was also very orderly, meant to be enjoyed. There were pretty chairs so people could sit surrounded by Tris’s beautiful plants.

But his home greenhouse was more natural—and the orchids looked as though they’d come straight from a jungle. Some of the flowers had long stems trailing off the bottom, and some looked more like insects than plants. And the colors varied from pristine white to purples that were almost creepy.

As Jecca turned around, trying to look at all of them, she thought she could almost hear jungle drums. And her fingers itched to try to reproduce those colors in paint. Tris had been right when he’d said that she’d find what she needed for Kim’s ads among the orchids in his house. What did he call them? Species orchids. Not hybrids but straight out of the jungle.

By lunchtime, Jecca had come up with so much work to do that she didn’t know where to begin. But at the head of her list was to call Kim. It was time to tell her about Tristan.

“Jecca!” Kim said as soon as she picked up. “I was just going to call you. I have to go to Texas. Please ask me why.”

“I’ll bite. Why?”

“Neiman Marcus wants to talk to me about showing some of my jewelry in their stores.”

“That’s great!” Jecca said. “I’m truly impressed. When do you leave?”

“As soon as I can get on a plane. The meeting is tomorrow afternoon. My secretary is going with me, and we’re packing up now.”

“Then go!” Jecca said.

“I will but . . .” Kim hesitated. “I know I’m the one who put you in the country, but now I worry about you out there with just two older women for company. No one’s so oknow seen you in town, so you must be bored out of your mind. Or are you working constantly?”

“I’m not bored by any means,” Jecca said. “Kim, when you get back, you and I need to talk.”

“About Tristan?”

Jecca drew in her breath. Sometimes Kim was almost psychic. “Yes, about Tris.”

Kim took her time answering. “Jecca, I don’t want to see either of you two hurt. I love both of you, but I need to warn you about him.”

The hairs on Jecca’s neck stood up. “Warn me?”

“Yes. Tristan is the nicest person in the world. His wonderful bedside manner is the real him.”

“So where’s the bad in that?”

“The bad is that he’s so sweet to people, especially pretty women, that they think he’s in love with them.”

Jecca had felt exactly what Kim was describing. “But he’s not in love?”

“No,” Kim said. “I guess he could be, but I’m not sure he’s ever been even close.”

Jecca thought of what Tris had told her about the married woman he’d almost fallen for. Was Jecca the consolation prize? He couldn’t have her,

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