"As well as a waste of time." She unbelted her robe, let it slide from her shoulders. She ran her hands up his chest, then caught his face in them before she kissed him senseless. "I'm going to marry you," she murmured. And laughed when his body jerked in shock. "Don't worry. You'll get used to the idea."

Still laughing, she smothered his unintelligible protest with her mouth.

She felt so good . Not just the sex, Malory thought as she sang in the shower. Though that could hardly be discounted. She always felt good, confident, directed, when she had a clear, welldefined purpose.

The quest for the key was so nebulous that it confused as much as it energized. But convincing Flynn that they belonged together was crystal clear. A goal she could get her teeth into.

She hadn't a clue why she'd fallen in love with him, and that's what told her it was real.

He certainly didn't fit her image of her dream man. He didn't cook gourmet meals or speak fluent French (or Italian) or love spending his free time in museums. He didn't wear tailored suits or read poetry.

At least, she didn't think he read poetry.

She'd always planned to fall in love with a man who had some of those attributes. And, naturally, in her outline the right man would court her, charm her, seduce her, then pledge his undying love at the perfect romantic moment.

Before Flynn she had analyzed and dissected every relationship, picked at every flaw until she'd worked a dozen holes into the cloth of it.

And in the end, that hadn't mattered, because none of them had been right.

She had no desire to worry about the flaws with Flynn. She only knew her heart had gone splat when she'd least expected it. And she liked it.

She had to admit she also liked the idea that he was spooked. It was intriguing, and it was challenging to be the pursuer for a change. To be the aggressor, and to keep a man slightly off balance with honesty.

When he'd finally managed to stumble out of bed sometime around three in the morning, she'd sensed his fear and confusion just as much as she'd sensed his desire to stay.

Let him stew about it for a while, she decided.

She amused herself by calling the local florist and ordering a dozen red roses to be delivered to his office. She almost danced out of her apartment to keep her appointment with James.

"Well, aren't we bright and sassy this morning," Tod commented when she swung into The Gallery.

"Aren't we just." She caught his face in her hand and gave him a noisy kiss. "Is he in?"

"Upstairs. He's expecting you. Sugarpie, you look fabulous. Good enough to eat."

"I feel good enough to eat." She patted his cheek, then glided up the steps. She knocked on the office door, stepped in. "Hello, James."

"Malory." He rose from the desk, both hands extended. "Thank you so much for coming in."

"Of course." She took the chair he gestured toward. "How are things?"

With a pained expression on his face, he sat. "I'm sure you've heard about the difficulty Pamela had with Mrs. K. A terrible misunderstanding, which I'm afraid may have cost The Gallery a valued client."

Malory forced herself to appear concerned even while her mind jumped with glee. "Yes, I'm so sorry that things have…" Don't say gone to hell in a handbasket, she ordered herself, and continued without missing a beat. "Been a bit difficult during this transition."

"Yes. Difficult. Pamela's very enthusiastic about The Gallery, but I'm afraid she's still learning. I see now that I gave her too much autonomy too quickly."

To keep from punching her fists in the air, Malory sedately folded her hands on her knee. "She has a very precisely defined vision."

"Yes. Yes." He worried his gold pen, fiddled with his tie. "I think her strengths may lie in a more peripheral area than actual client-staff relations. I realize there's friction between the two of you."

Cool, she reminded herself. "I also had a very precisely defined vision, which unfortunately clashed with hers. So, yes, there was considerable friction."

"Well." He cleared his throat. "Perhaps I let Pamela influence me in that regard. I felt, sincerely, that it might be time for you to explore your talents, to experiment. However, I see I didn't take into consideration your affection and loyalty to The Gallery, or how being nudged out of the nest, as it were, might upset you."

"I admit it did." But she tempered her statement with the sweetest of smiles.

"I have considered all of this over the last couple of weeks. I'd very much like you to come back, Malory. To resume your managerial duties. At a ten percent increase in salary."

"This is so unexpected." She had to imagine her butt glued to the chair so she couldn't leap up and do a victory dance. "And I'm flattered. But… can I be frank?"

"Of course."

"The friction we spoke of is still going to be there. I have to admit I hadn't been happy here the last several months. Your… nudging me out of the nest," she said, "was painful and frightening. But once I was out, I had the opportunity to look back and realize that the nest had become… let's say a little crowded."

"I understand." He held up his hands, then clasped then together under his chin. "I can promise that Pamela won't interfere with your authority, or with the policies that have long been in effect here. You'll have the last word, barring mine, of course, on acquisitions and displays, on featured artists and so on. Just as before."

It was exactly what she'd wanted. More than, she realized when she calculated the bonus in salary. She would be back doing what she did best, and with considerable financial reward, and she would have the personal, if unattractive, satisfaction of putting Pamela's nose out of joint.

She would have won, without firing a shot.

"Thank you, James. I can't tell you how much it means to me to know you want me back, that you have confidence in me."

"Wonderful, wonderful." He beamed at her. "You can start right away, today if that's good for you. It'll be like the last two weeks never even happened."

Like they never even happened. Her stomach gave a mighty pitch. Then, suddenly, it was as if sensible Malory stepped to the side and listened in shock as reckless Malory took charge.

"But I can't come back. I'll always be grateful for everything you taught me, all the opportunities you gave me—the last being pushing me out the door so I'd have to leave my comfort zone. I'm going to open my own business."

Oh, my God, she thought. I'm going to open my own business.

"It won't be anything as grand as The Gallery. Smaller, more…" She nearly said "accessible," then managed to backtrack. "Low-key," she continued. "I'm going to focus primarily on local artists and craftspeople."

"Malory, you must be aware how much time and energy that sort of thing consumes. And more, the financial risk involved." There was no doubt about it, James was panicking.

"I know. I don't seem to be as worried about taking risks as I used to be. In fact, I'm excited by the prospect of taking them. But thank you, thank you so much for all you've done for me. I really have to go now."

She got up quickly, afraid she would change her mind. Here was her safety net, spread out, ready to catch her. And she was swinging out beyond it to where the ground was very hard, and very far away.

"Malory, I wish you'd take some time to think this through."

"Do you know what happens when you always look before you leap?" She reached out and touched his hand before hurrying toward the door. "You hardly ever make the jump."

She didn't waste time. Malory hunted down the address Zoe had relayed, and pulled into a double driveway behind Dana's car.

Good location, she decided, sliding practical Malory back into place. There would be some pedestrian traffic, and reasonable parking for people who needed it.

The house was charming. Homey, she thought. And the three of them working together could certainly perk it up. Paint the porch, plant some trailing vines. Zoe probably already had a horde of ideas on that.

The walkway needed to be repaired or replaced. She noted that detail down on the clipboard she'd brought with her. Window boxes? Yes, planted seasonally.

And wouldn't it snazz up the entrance to have a stained-glass window replace the clear one over the front door? Something designed specifically for them. She had some contacts in that area.

Still making notes, she opened the front door. The foyer could be a showcase for all three businesses. Yes, there was a way to do that with clever placement and displays, keeping it friendly and informal while advertising their goods and services.

The light was good, the floors a treasure once they were refinished. The walls, well, paint would solve that.

She wandered through, delighted with the rooms. They did seem to tumble together, she thought. Just as Zoe had said.

An excellent way to blend businesses.

After filling pages with notes she strolled back, just as Dana and Zoe came down the stairs.

"Eventually, I'd like to refit the master bath with a Swedish shower and aromatherapy station," Zoe was saying. "But for now… Malory, hi."

"Hi." Malory lowered her clipboard. "I'm in."

"I knew it!" With a whoop, Zoe flew down the stairs and grabbed her. "I just knew it. Did you see? Have you been through? Isn't it great? Isn't it perfect?"

"Yes, yes, and yes. I haven't been upstairs yet, but down here… I love it," she said.

Dana stood on the stairs, her lips pursed in speculation. "Why'd you change your mind?"