Sympathetic Magic (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 4) by Christine Pope

be over as soon as they entered the gallery. And, sure enough, once they crossed the threshold, she pulled away, pretending to be occupied with drawing off her shawl and draping it over one arm.
    Oh, well. It was still something that she’d taken his arm at all. There wasn’t much time to be disappointed, because Connor seemed to spot them in that instant, coming toward them with an expression on his face that managed to be both pleased and puzzled — probably because although Lucas had said he would be here, he hadn’t said anything about bringing Margot, not when he wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t back out at the last minute.
    “Thanks for stopping by,” Connor said, giving a lift of his own eyebrow in Lucas’ direction. That eyebrow seemed to indicate there would be questions later, but for now he seemed willing to let the matter go. “My pieces are over in this side room, but really, you should look around the whole place. Eli’s brought on a bunch of new artists, so there’s a lot to look at.”
    “Will do,” Lucas said, and Margot added,
    “It’s impressive you were able to get this many new pieces ready, what with everything that’s been going on in your life lately.”
    Connor hesitated, as if attempting to determine whether her remark contained some sort of jab. He appeared to let it go, however, nodding before he said with a grin, “Well, I’m enjoying my new studio space a lot…especially since Angela’s been binge-watching A Baby Story lately. I needed something to do while I was in hiding.”
    Poor kid…Connor, that is. Lucas had only vaguely heard of A Baby Story , but it sounded like something he wouldn’t want to watch a single episode of, let alone a string of them.
    Even Margot looked as if she wanted to smile. But since she apparently didn’t want to go on record as criticizing her prima , she only said, “Well, I’m sure she appreciates having the time to rest.”
    “Oh, yeah. She’s been doing a lot of resting lately.”
    Lucas chuckled. “She might as well do it now, because in a month or so, rest is going to be the last thing on her mind.”
    Connor didn’t appear at all daunted by the prospect of a couple of babies invading his life in the near future. “True. Anyway, you two take a look around — I can see Eli over there, signaling me.”
    He flashed them another grin before heading farther into the interior of the gallery. Lucas pointed toward the small room where Connor’s paintings hung. “Shall we?”
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    C onnor really did have talent . Margot had known that on an intellectual level, but the last time she’d been in this gallery, the tension had been so thick she worried that some sort of magical battle would break out between the McAllister and Wilcox contingents, and that would have been a terrible mess to clean up. Public displays of power were always so difficult to sweep under the rug, and you couldn’t get much more public than a gallery in the heart of Sedona’s uptown district.
    This evening, though, couldn’t have been more different. She hadn’t spotted anyone from either clan yet, apart from Connor himself, but it was enough that she and Lucas were here together, wandering from painting to painting and chatting quite amiably about the merits of each. There were several she would have liked to purchase, actually, especially one of a stand of blazing yellow aspen trees next to a dark forest stream. It felt odd to be buying Connor’s work, though, especially with him right here in the gallery, and so she let it go for now. She could always check back in a few days and see if the painting was still available.
    “Do you have many of his pieces?” she asked, after they’d exhausted his collection and went on to a display from another artist, one who worked in mixed media, with gold and copper leaf highlighting the heavily applied oils.
    Lucas nodded. “A few. It was hard getting him to allow me to actually buy them — he just wanted to give them