She stopped outside yet another trendy gallery in Viejo Vallarta and Santiago sighed. In the last two hours she’d dragged him from the mercados of Rio Cuale, buying at least a truckload of colorful Mexican blankets and fluffy pillows, enough fresh linens to make up every bed in the villa three times, and two Huichol yarn paintings. Santiago usually left the decorating and designing part of his developments in the hands of professionals. Decorators, architects. People who knew what would look good in a sitting room or bedroom. As much as he didn’t want to be there, a small piece of him liked imagining them working together on each room. Setting it up to create the wow factor that was needed for their future guests. And that was reason enough to get Esme out of these shops and them back onto his plans. She didn’t need to redecorate the villa when a few cans of paint would do a serviceable job over the next six months. But, seeing the happy look on her face, he couldn’t shut her down.
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