Sympathetic Magic(16)

Knowing he should get things moving forward, Lucas said, “I figured we’d go to Connor’s gallery first, and then decide from there which way we want to head. He told me he wasn’t planning on staying too late — Angela was feeling tired and stayed home.”

“By herself?” Margot asked, sounding almost alarmed…for her.

That hint of worry in her voice told Lucas she wasn’t quite as detached as she wanted people to believe. “No,” he told her. “Mason’s with her. Angela’s fine — she isn’t due for another five weeks, after all.”

“I’m aware of that. But twins have a tendency to come early, you know.”

Actually, he didn’t know, and was sort of surprised Margot possessed that bit of arcane knowledge. He wished Angela and Connor had volunteered that information, but then, they’d been acting fairly relaxed about the whole thing. Of course Angela was being careful and not doing anything to stress herself or the babies, but she also didn’t seem too worried about the impending delivery. Maybe it was just that she and Connor had already been through so much together that giving birth to twins didn’t seem like too big a deal to her.

“Well,” he said easily, “as I told you, she has Mason with her, and Dr. Ruiz on speed dial. But Connor still wants to get back as quickly as he can.”

Then Lucas offered his arm to Margot, and she paused before taking it with just the slightest tightening of her mouth, as if she wished she could have thought of some rational reason to refuse the gesture. But since she didn’t, he allowed himself to enjoy the gentle pressure of her arm against his, and to breathe in her scent, subtle and sweet. Something floral, although he couldn’t identify it. And was that a hint of vanilla?

Probably not a good idea to ask. He’d just let himself savor their brief closeness, even though he knew it would be over as soon as they entered the gallery. And, sure enough, once they crossed the threshold, she pulled away, pretending to be occupied with drawing off her shawl and draping it over one arm.

Oh, well. It was still something that she’d taken his arm at all. There wasn’t much time to be disappointed, because Connor seemed to spot them in that instant, coming toward them with an expression on his face that managed to be both pleased and puzzled — probably because although Lucas had said he would be here, he hadn’t said anything about bringing Margot, not when he wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t back out at the last minute.

“Thanks for stopping by,” Connor said, giving a lift of his own eyebrow in Lucas’ direction. That eyebrow seemed to indicate there would be questions later, but for now he seemed willing to let the matter go. “My pieces are over in this side room, but really, you should look around the whole place. Eli’s brought on a bunch of new artists, so there’s a lot to look at.”

“Will do,” Lucas said, and Margot added,

“It’s impressive you were able to get this many new pieces ready, what with everything that’s been going on in your life lately.”

Connor hesitated, as if attempting to determine whether her remark contained some sort of jab. He appeared to let it go, however, nodding before he said with a grin, “Well, I’m enjoying my new studio space a lot…especially since Angela’s been binge-watching A Baby Story lately. I needed something to do while I was in hiding.”

Poor kid…Connor, that is. Lucas had only vaguely heard of A Baby Story, but it sounded like something he wouldn’t want to watch a single episode of, let alone a string of them.

Even Margot looked as if she wanted to smile. But since she apparently didn’t want to go on record as criticizing her prima, she only said, “Well, I’m sure she appreciates having the time to rest.”

“Oh, yeah. She’s been doing a lot of resting lately.”

Lucas chuckled. “She might as well do it now, because in a month or so, rest is going to be the last thing on her mind.”

Connor didn’t appear at all daunted by the prospect of a couple of babies invading his life in the near future. “True. Anyway, you two take a look around — I can see Eli over there, signaling me.”

He flashed them another grin before heading farther into the interior of the gallery. Lucas pointed toward the small room where Connor’s paintings hung. “Shall we?”



* * *



Connor really did have talent. Margot had known that on an intellectual level, but the last time she’d been in this gallery, the tension had been so thick she worried that some sort of magical battle would break out between the McAllister and Wilcox contingents, and that would have been a terrible mess to clean up. Public displays of power were always so difficult to sweep under the rug, and you couldn’t get much more public than a gallery in the heart of Sedona’s uptown district.