"MAYBE IT'S FOR THE best," Marge said softly, looking over Paige's shoulder.
She had come back from her singles cruise, having met several nice gentlemen who tended to get too serious too quickly, so she dumped them.
"Maybe." Paige shrugged as she stood before her easel, putting the finishing touches on another painting. This one was a mirror of her melancholy soul at the moment.
She was in the center of the picture wearing the diaphanous gown of her dreams. Her arms were outstretched in front of her in a pleading gesture. The expression on her face was one of love and longing. A dark, endless hallway loomed before her. Ian stood at the very end of the hall, looking big, masculine and untouchable. His arms were folded over his chest and his legs were in that stubborn stance of his, mute
