A Touch of Minx Read Free

her lungs again. It wasn't anything sparkly, thank God.
    "So read it."
    Setting the box aside, she slowly scanned the embossed lettering on the check-size document. "You do have a flair for the unexpected," she said a moment later, her voice shaking a little. Inside she shook a lot harder. Okay. Christ. It was a ring—practically—just not the round kind with a diamond.
    "It's the best nursery in eastern Florida," he said proudly. "I did some research. And they'll work with you in person, on line, by phone, however you like. They can find any plant in the world, whatever you want."
    She blinked. Get with it, Sam. "But this gift certificate's for a hundred thousand dollars," she said. "That's a lot of plants."
    "You mentioned maybe wanting to do some hardscaping, too. They also contract for that. Change the pool, put in a volcano, whatever—"
    "Whatever I want," she finished.
    "Whatever you want." He took the fingers of her free hand and kissed them, feather-light. "I told you that the pool area was yours. It needs to be redone, and you said you've never had your own garden. I know you've been doing some sketches, and I just want you to know that I meant it."
    She met his gaze. "So this is your subtle way of telling me to quit stalling and get to work. I have not been stalling, though. You asked me to design that whole gallery for your Devonshire estate, and it does open in two and a half months. We've spent the last three months in England. I oversaw that gemstone exhibit for four weeks. And I have a new business, and—"
    "I know. It's a gift, Samantha—not a complaint. If you want something else, I'll—"
    "It's amazing," she interrupted, swallowing down her own nerves. Taken for itself, it was a really nice gift. He knew she liked gardens, and he'd just paid for her to create the garden of her dreams. Just because a garden had roots, and roots were a whole metaphorical thing for someone who until the past year had lived most of her life on the move—either he didn't know that, or he did. She was pretty sure, though, that he did. He wanted her putting down roots, and right there with him. But it was still a nice gift. "You're amazing." Slowly she kissed him. "Thank you."
    "You are entirely welcome. And now, I have Godzilla, Mothra and King Ghidorah: Giant Monsters All-Out Attack—which I have on good authority is the best of the second wave of Godzilla movies—all cued up on the DVD player, or we can go to bed and have more sex."
    Samantha laughed. That was her Rick. He might scare the hell out of her, but he did know what she liked. "Don't you want your present?"
    He nibbled on her ear, sliding one hand up under her borrowed shirt to cup her breast. "You gave me your present." Yowsa. "That was not a present. That was… us." One eyebrow lifting, he straightened. "Very well, then." Pushing her shirt back down, she stood up and went to her dressing closet. Reaching up behind the door, she freed the manila envelope she'd taped there. He probably wouldn't have snooped, and so she probably hadn't needed to hide it, but some instincts died harder than oth-ers. She lived in—used to live in—a world where people took things from one another, and so she took extra steps to make sure that her things stayed safe. And apparently now "her things" included Rick and her one-year-of-knowing-you present for him.
    "Here," she said, handing him the envelope as she sat down beside him again.
    Half his attention still clearly on her, he opened the metal tabs and tilted the contents onto his lap. '"Off-Road Extreme,'" he read, picking up the top brochure. "What's this?"
    "It's three days in the Rockies taking four-wheel-drive vehicles through mud and water and over dirt and rocks and probably small furry animals, and then going fishing in the afternoons," she returned, leaning against his arm. "Man stuff."
    "With man cars?"
    "You betcha." She pulled out the ticket information. "You can redeem it anytime over the next year."
    "This is