91 Chapter 91

She held out her hand-difficult when she thought of the times he'd touched it-but the last thing she wanted was him coming down here from the gallery afterward, especially if Gabe was here. "I want to thank you for all you've done for me. I want to thank you especially for not giving me away."

He drew his brows down as if her hand was going to leap off her wrist and snap his nose off. Gentlemen shook hands, didn't they?

He huffed out a breath. "I ...But you still have to win this damned thing."

Win this? Why wouldn't she? So much cheek. So little time left to say it in. She grasped his hand. "With your tuition, how can I possibly fail?"

"That's as may be."

As may be? And so was Gabe, floating into her vision. Only he wasn't "as may be," he was real, standing up there in the gallery, haloed by beige light. A place she didn't want him to be. Not if Stillmore was bent on joining him, which was why she shook his hand harder.