The elevator dinged and the doors opened onto the fourth floor. She’d expected to emerge into a darkened, narrow hallway. Instead she stepped out into bright sunshine emanating from floor-to-ceiling windows in a well-appointed lounge area. She stepped over to the windows to take in the view of the resort gardens below, rich with blooming foliage and paths that led to private nooks and gazebos. It couldn’t be more idyllic, she thought.
“Beautiful day, isn’t it?” someone in close proximity said.
She turned and looked at a tall stranger with clean-cut brown hair, a friendly smile and nice build from what she could see in the loose shirt and trousers he wore. The guy was just her type if she had come to La Luna Resort looking for a man, which she hadn’t.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Love,” he said.
Marry couldn’t restrain herself. She laughed out loud. “Well, of course you are,” she said.
“No, really,” he said. “Dr. Allen Love.”
Oh, sure, as if a good looking doctor would need to come to La Luna to find a mate. She gripped his extended hand and recalled his name from the schedule-of-events flyer that the clerk had shoved in her face. Heat flushed her cheeks, and she broke off the handshake.
“You’re the seminar leader, aren’t you?”
“The one and only,” he said, then laughed. “Oh, I’ll bet you thought my introduction was a lame pick-up line.”
Marry shrugged one shoulder. “Well, yes. It’s kind of funny.”
He laughed again. He has a nice laugh, Marry thought. Warm and inviting like an overstuffed recliner at the end of a hard day. Her eyes darted down to his left hand. No wedding ring—not that she was the least bit interested.
“When I first started my couples’ therapy practice, the name thing didn’t occur to me,” he said. “Then when I went on the radio, my publicist thought it was a great angle. You know how publicists are. Always looking for an angle.”