C32 CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Mandy turned toward the painting on the wall at the end of the hallway where she stood. The painting was some sort of mountain scene, with a dark-turquoise river snaking through the velvety-green meadow. Beyond rose a majestic violet-and-slate-gray mountain.

“Mandy?”

“I couldn’t let you do that,” she said. “I mean, you’re . . . a beautiful man . . . and you’re successful . . . and wealthy