Page 169 of Touched By Magic

Gen did the same with her eyes closed. Was she listening to little Jean call to his mother? The whisper of wind over the fields?

A smile played on her lips, then faded away as she tuned in to something else. Seconds ticked by. Then she lurched and blinked, gazing around.

I grabbed her arm, going on red alert. Had she sensed danger? Intruders? Yet another painting?

God, I hoped not.

I searched her eyes. “What is it?”

“Nothing. Sorry. I mean…” She leaned in and whispered. “I saw it. Monet’s painting of Manet in his garden.”

I nodded dumbly. “We both saw it.”

She shook her head. “No, I mean, I had a vision of it. In a big frame on a wall in a different gallery.” She closed her eyes again, recalling the vision. “There were people there…cocktails… Like opening day at a new exhibit.”

Her eyes popped open, and she grabbed my arm. “A gallery. Grepper is going to show it.”

My eyes went wide. She could see the future too?

“I guess I can’t be sure. But it felt so real — the same way I saw you and me as tigers.”

Nowthatvision, I liked.

“And now, this,” she murmured.

Her eyes shone, and she clasped my hands. “Maybe we did it. Maybe we convinced Grepper to exhibit the painting.”

“If he does, it’s thanks to you.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Her eyes shone with excitement.

I drew her in for a kiss. Whether Grepper exhibited the painting or not didn’t matter much to me. But it mattered to her. And, hell. If anyone could talk a greedy warlock into doing the right thing, it would be Gen.

“You’resomething, Geneviève,” I said, letting her name roll off my tongue. “Truly.”

She grinned up at me. “If so, then it’s you bringing out the best in me.”

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