Kiss A Handsome Stranger

“We’ll need to put these up.” She indicated a pile of rough-textured cloths in the three primary colors.

The artist’s acrylic paintings placed superrealistic images of people on impressionistic backgrounds, in sepia or black-and-white tones reminiscent of old photographs. The overall effect would be harsh without offsetting color on the walls.

Daisy’s favorite was a painting of two Native American children, one in traditional buckskin and the other in modern clothes, playing a game that resembled jacks. The blurry background might be viewed as either a cluster of ancient multilevel pueblos or as a modern cityscape.

“Okay, where do you want me to hang this?” Sean picked up a yellow burlap rectangle.

“I’ll show you.” Daisy fetched a folding ladder and placed it against the back wall. As she climbed, a momentary light-headedness made her halt. “Wow. I must be hungrier than I thought.”

“Do you want me to make a sandwich run?”

“In a minute.” After descending, she handed Sean a sketch she’d made, showing how the rectangles should be draped to complement the paintings. “Think you can handle it?”

“Sure.” His can-do attitude, which she’d appreciated when he first came here as a student intern, was the reason she’d hired him. Working alongside him, she had learned she could rely on his excellent artistic judgment.

“We probably won’t be able to finish mounting everything and adjusting the lights till tomorrow.” Daisy hoped the light-headedness was only a temporary phenomenon, because it was going to be a busy day. “I’ve got a commitment in the afternoon for a few hours, so we’ll have to do it early.”

“Okay by me.”

She didn’t mind that Elise and Phoebe had more or less coerced her into going shopping with them on Saturday afternoon. All the same, she hoped they found dresses quickly.

Bells jingled as the front door opened. Daisy brushed lint off her ivory blouse and calf-length, striped tan and blue skirt—one of her mother’s creations—and went to check on the visitor.

Bright daylight silhouetted Chance Foster’s well-built frame. Even when the door closed, the glare faded slowly, and it was a moment before she realized he was carrying a pizza and a carton of drinks.

His self-possessed stance and the welcoming indentation in his cheek couldn’t hide the hunger in his gaze. How could a man look so pleasantly accommodating and so virile at the same time?

“I hope you haven’t eaten,” he said.

Before Daisy could reply, Sean appeared at her elbow. “Wow!” he said. “You sent out?” Then he noticed Chance’s tailored suit. “Must be some snazzy restaurant if their delivery guys dress like this!”

“We aim to please.” Chance set the pizza and drinks on a low front table that held informational pamphlets. “Chance Foster. I’m a friend of Daisy’s.” Sean introduced himself, and the two men shook hands.

It would be rude to reject his offering of food after he’d gone to so much trouble, Daisy told herself. Besides, the scents of cheese and spices were enough to overpower even the most iron will. “Thanks,” she said.

“It’s Mexican-style pizza.” Chance cleared the pamphlets aside while Sean fetched folding chairs. Ordinarily Daisy ate in the back room, but it would be cramped for the three of them, so she didn’t protest.

A middle-aged couple wandered into the gallery. They smiled at the lunchtime tableau and began browsing through the Gallery I exhibit of beaded jewelry and headdresses.

The hot sausage and chili peppers on the pizza gave Daisy a moment’s pause. She was too hungry to resist, however, and found that they didn’t upset her stomach as much as she’d feared.

“I work a block away,” Chance explained to Sean. “I’m a family law attorney.”

“So how do you two know each other?” the young man asked guilelessly.

“His sister…”

“…lives next door…”

“…ran into each other…”

“…engagement party.”

They finished at the same time. Sean regarded them with a puzzled expression. “I see.”

“Actually, my interest in Daisy is partly professional.” Chance managed to eat his pizza without getting cheese on his chin, a trick that Sean hadn’t mastered, Daisy noted.

“She needs a lawyer?” the young man asked.

“Not my profession. Hers.” Chance handed around cups of soft drinks. “I need artwork for my house and I could use her expert advice.”

Daisy hoped he wasn’t suggesting that she visit his house again. She also hoped this wasn’t a ploy to get her back into his bed. “I could show you our portfolio of artists.”

The middle-aged couple stopped nearby. “Can I help you?” Daisy asked. When they nodded, Sean went to assist them in trying on jewelry.

“I need more than a few items.” Chance spoke coolly, in a low voice. “I’m a strong believer in seeing the big picture, and when it comes to art, I lack your ability to visualize a room in advance.”

Daisy took a deep breath. “From what I’ve seen of your house…”

“You’ll need to take another look. In daylight.” He wasn’t asking, she realized. Chance had made his decision and expected her to go along with it.

“But…”

“I want the whole effect carefully thought out. It’s going to involve getting a few items of new furniture, too, and repainting if necessary. I realize you’re not an interior designer, but the sculpture and paintings will be the focus.”

Daisy wanted to refuse. She didn’t like being railroaded, and she didn’t want to venture into Chance Foster’s house again.

Sitting across from him in her gallery, despite the nearness of Sean and the customers, her whole body sparkled with the man’s energy. The restraint in his gray eyes and elegant suit only emphasized the contours of his body and the potent sexuality she remembered all too vividly.

She wasn’t sure she could stay out of Chance’s bed. Alone in his house…

“We’re talking about a large expenditure,” he went on. “When I bought the house, I budgeted a considerable sum for art. It’s time I spent it.”

Unfair! she wanted to cry. Even a successful gallery like Native Art operated on a thin profit margin. She couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. Besides, Daisy owed it to her artists to do her best for them.

And, she recalled, that night when she entered his house, he’d apologized for the sparse furnishings and mentioned that one of these days he was going to buy paintings. So he wasn’t simply manipulating her.

She assumed an impersonal tone. “I represent dozens of artists. I’m sure we can find special pieces for you.”

The couple made a purchase and left, and Sean rejoined them. “What did I miss?”

“Miss Redford is going to take a look at my house this afternoon and make recommendations.” Chance wiped his hands on a napkin and stood up. “I leave work early on Fridays. Pick you up around three, all right? Nice to meet you, Sean.” With a friendly nod, he departed.

Daisy sat motionless, stunned. She hadn’t agreed to go to his house so soon, or to ride with him, either.

“Seems like a nice guy.” Sean took another bite of pizza. “Hey, don’t worry. Using your outline, I can get the show mounted by myself. Fridays are always slow anyway.”

“Let’s see how much progress we can make before three o’clock,” she said.