More Than One Night

by Nicole Leiren

  The words had barely left his mouth when ruby red lips covered his and a small palm slid over his recently disappointed groin, quickly bringing it to life.

  Grabbing her hand, and breaking the kiss, he held the long, manicured fingers where they couldn't cause damage. "You didn't answer my question."

  The fiery redhead flashed him an angry glare. "You didn't tell me you were coming. I've been sitting at home, alone and missing you, while you were out doing god-knows-what with god-knows-who."

  It wasn't quite that bad, but she knew him well enough to know if he was in town and not with her… "I'm sure your, what do they call them, sugar daddy, would be more than happy to spend time with you." Mr. Hyde returned with a vengeance—about time.

  Tiny pin prickles of pain radiated from his cheek throughout his entire face. He could've stopped the slap but hoped she'd feel better afterward. It would help, making what came next easier.

  "You know he pays little to no attention to me, and we haven't shared a bed in years. Not a secret I've kept from you."

  A part of him felt bad for her. She wasn't married, but she enjoyed the finer things in life and a sugar daddy fit the bill. Unfortunately, she'd chosen a man who was many years older than her. She'd confessed he lost interest in sex years ago. Daniel couldn't help but wonder if the man physically couldn't perform or had simply lost interest. "It's a shitty problem, and it sucks for you, I know." The other part knew Alana wanted only one thing from him, and it had nothing to do with love.

  Her hand slid between his legs as she moved closer. "A problem you've always been willing to help me with."

  His manhood tightened uncomfortably under her experienced touch. She crooned, "C'mon, baby, we've had a lot of fun together. No strings—just like you want it."

  She hit the nail right on the proverbial head. That was how he'd wanted it, but something was changing. He was changing. He didn't want to hurt Alana, but he couldn't do this anymore. He had wanted no strings attached before. Strings tied people down and restricted their freedoms. But, they also could hold people together. There was an hour and a half before he was supposed to meet Melodie. He needed to tell Alana good-bye and move on. It'd been a fun ride, but it was time to grow up and find the relationship his lonely heart deserved.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  6:15. He was late. Melodie had chosen a seat at the oak bar adjacent to the lobby with a direct view of the front door. She'd checked with the front desk for messages. None. He didn't strike her as the type to not call. Though limited encounters, he'd been prompt to each meeting they'd set and respected the boundaries she'd given. The main problem? Even if she wanted to call him to make sure he hadn't been in an accident, they'd never exchanged cell phone numbers. He knew where she was staying, but otherwise, no way for them to communicate. She took another sip of her drink and thought back to their good-bye kiss this morning.

  Never before had she been kissed so thoroughly—so intensely. Every fiber of her being begged her to invite him back to the room and fully experience everything this connection between them promised. She'd wanted to, but something held her back. Maybe the nagging at the back of her mind about the constant buzzing of his phone over the last several hours of their date? Maybe he'd decided she was toying with him, getting him all worked up, then not following through. Either way, he was a no-show. Disappointment settled low in her belly. Evelyn was right—she had no clue how to pick a man.

  After draining the glass, she walked the short distance to the concierge desk to arrange a taxi. Adventure Melodie would go on. Though the past couple days had been a whirlwind, she liked the woman she was becoming or, perhaps, allowing herself to be the woman she'd always been. The plan was to see the JFK Memorial and see it she would—with or without him.

  Her eyes widened at the sight before her. A magnificent memorial designed in tribute to Kennedy's brief, yet historical, life. The simple design consisted of four walls forming a monument to represent the freedom of Kennedy's spirit. The suspended structure lifted two feet above the ground on eight support beams that vanished the moment darkness fell and the lights around the memorial turned on, giving the structure the appearance of floating on light. Daniel had been right—mesmerizing.

  She collapsed onto one of the benches outside the memorial and fought back an errant tear. This experience would mean so much more if someone were here to share in the moment. Someone like Daniel. A pity party loomed nearby, waiting to join and occupy her for as long as she'd allow the negative thoughts. Why couldn't she meet a nice guy and settle down? Because I deserve more than nice, I deserve the storybook romance where Romeo sweeps me off my feet and kisses me until I forget how to spell my name.

  Dismissing Mr. Pity Party, she stared at the memorial, contemplating her life and wondering if it would end up as empty as the structure in front of her. As much as she cared for him, marrying Tom would've been a mistake. He deserved more too. They'd been comfortable with each other, the best of friends. Friends were all they would ever be though. His gentle touches didn't inflame her to heights of passion. Rather, they made her feel safe and cherished. At the time, she thought it would be all she ever wanted—all she deserved.

  Tom was gone. Daniel, a no-show. Time to move on. No pity party today. Room service and a chick flick or disappearing inside the pages of a book sounded like a long overdue plan. She hailed a cab, ready to pick up the pieces and move forward yet again.

  One chick-flick down and most of her steak devoured, Melodie sighed happily—nothing like a piece of perfectly cooked red meat to help ease heartache and disappointment. Throw in a baked potato and a piece of cheesecake for dessert and you'd guaranteed yourself at least an hour or so away from the harsh realities of life. They were still there. You just didn't care as much. The hotel phone ringing caused her to cough and spit out a piece of potato. Would Daniel be calling to apologize? Explain? With her heart pounding in her chest, she picked up the receiver.

  "Hello."

  "Melodie, it's your mother."

  Her pounding heart immediately transformed into a pounding headache. "Oh, hi, Mom."

  "Evelyn tells me you refuse to come home and meet this wonderful man she's found for you." Just like Mom. No pleasantries. Just right to the point. Less than one minute before Evelyn's name was brought up. How predictable their conversations had become. How Daddy had put up with her all these years was anyone's guess. He must be a candidate for sainthood or something.

  "I'm doing great, Mom. Enjoying the vacation. Thanks for asking."

  "Watch your tone, young lady, and answer my question."

  "I don't need Evelyn to find a man for me, wonderful or not. I'm perfectly capable of doing that on my own." She wanted to believe that about herself anyway.

  "Your track record suggests otherwise. Regardless, you're coming home for the party we're hosting later this week in Evelyn's honor."

  It was a statement. A directive—not a question or a request.

  Melodie refrained from a sarcastic comeback as that would only make the conversation longer and more painful. "What are we celebrating?"

  "Evelyn settled a big case, earning millions in revenue for her firm." The maternal pride oozed through the phone and across half a country. "At this rate, they'll be putting her name first on the door."

  "You must be very proud." She really was proud of her big sister, but her family never let her have the moment necessary to share. Evelyn had been shoved down her throat almost from birth, and though she resented the constant comparison, she knew her sister had worked hard and deserved every accolade she received. Melodie might need to have control over her own life, but Evelyn needed to control everyone and everything around her. Well, everyone except Mother.

  "As you should be. Of course, if you only applied yourself half as much as Evelyn, you'd be earning more than the paltry paycheck you currently bring home. Honestly, Melodie, what kind of career is reading stories to children?"

  Though she'd heard it time and time aga
in, on the heels of Tom's death and the disillusionment with Daniel, the knife of her mother's disappointment drove deeper into her already fragile heart. A solitary tear slipped from her closely guarded control. "It's the kind of career that brings me joy and happiness, something that's never been a high priority for you."

  "You will not speak to me with such disrespect, young lady."

  "Good-bye, Mother." Melodie cut the connection before her mother's tireless rant could start again. She dialed the front desk. "Yes, please hold all my calls. No interruptions. Thank you."

  She turned her cell on silent, dumped the remains of her dinner in the trash, grabbed the key, and headed out the door. Time to drown her sorrows at The Glass Cactus. Maybe Daniel's plan of love 'em and leave 'em wasn't so bad after all. The perfect plan actually. As long as you weren't the one being left.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  "What do you mean you can't ring her room? Is your switchboard broken?" Daniel's impatience with the incompetence of the staff at the hotel escalated with each passing moment.

  "Sir, as I've explained for the last several minutes, Ms. Alexander has asked not to be interrupted. Would you like to leave a message?"

  "No." Daniel paced the lobby of the grand hotel several times. Where in the hell was she? I was late, very late…but she wouldn't answer the damn phone! He hadn't meant to miss their date. Seeing the JFK Memorial with her at sunset would have ranked pretty damn high on the romance scale. Instead, he'd spent the last couple of hours breaking it off with Alana. He'd been tempted, so incredibly tempted, to take advantage of her willing body one last time, but the moment he closed his eyes, Melodie's silken brown hair and sweet smile replaced the predatory gleam of Alana's. His face still stung from her parting slap. See what happened when he tried to be a stand-up guy? Alana was no longer an option, and Melodie was nowhere to be found.

  At least she hadn't checked out. If they're holding her calls, he still had a chance to make things right and explain. Of course, explaining why he'd been late would require courage. He'd never lacked courage before, but the incident had shaken his faith. In his country. In himself. Since Melodie was unavailable as a distraction, he decided to head to his favorite (translated closest) temporary distraction, The Glass Cactus.

  He'd barely slugged down half a beer when he saw her. His wallflower—his beautiful wallflower, standing at the edge of the dance floor, glass of red liquid in hand, moving her hips subtly and sexily to the beat. Drawing in a calming breath, he made his way over to his jean-clad, peasant-bloused vixen. "You really should answer your phone."

  The soft waves of her hair moved ever so slightly, shielding him from a direct glare. "You should learn to be on time."

  The music blared, and the general cacophony of noise made the conversation he wanted to have with her impossible. "Can we step outside on the patio and talk?"

  This time the hair tossed violently as she made an abrupt turn. Green eyes blazed with what he surmised to be anger before the light drained completely, leaving them dull and defeated. "I have nothing left to say. I'm obviously not your type. I'm moving on. You should do the same."

  Melodie drained the contents of her glass before setting it on a nearby table. The heat of her body momentarily warmed him as she stepped past his form, making the resulting cold of her departure freeze his limbs with shards of distrust, disappointment, and disgust.

  Just let her go.

  He needed to let her go.

  He wanted to let her go.

  He couldn't let her go.

  Tossing his half-empty bottle in the trash can, he wove through the growing crowd, never losing sight of his target. He had to explain—tell her why he'd been late. Last night he helped her with a makeup test by staying up all night, the least she could do was give him a second chance. Or was he on his third chance now? The moment they were both outside the doors, he vaulted into action. "Melodie, stop!"

  * * *

  At the sound of her name, she hesitated for only a second. The hesitation lasted one second too long. "What do you want, Daniel?" She kept her back to him, afraid if she looked into his eyes or drank in the male power he exuded so effortlessly, she'd get lost in a sea of emotions that would fill her lungs until she could no longer breathe.

  His breath was hot on her neck and carried the faintest trace of ale. "I want to explain."

  Her heart pleaded with her to listen, but her mind issued a strict warning. His presence was unsettling. She wanted safe…needed safe. "You don't owe me an explanation. You don't owe me anything. I'm not the kind of woman you usually pursue, I get that. I had a great time last night, and I thought you did too." She turned slowly, her gaze holding his. "If I had to guess, I'm thinking you were with whoever kept calling you this morning. Another woman? Or, God, do you have a girlfriend?" She felt sick. How could she have been so stupid?

  His hand cupped her cheek as his lips christened her forehead. "Damn you, insufferable woman. I was late because I was telling the woman who kept calling that I didn't want to see her anymore." He lifted her face until her eyes focused solely on his. "After spending time with you, she pales in comparison."

  Smooth talker. How can I believe him? He barely knows me. Her head shook as she disengaged his hand. "No, I've always been the runner up. I'm sure you'll see the error of your ways before the sun rises over the great state of Texas tomorrow."

  All of the negative thoughts—about Daniel, her mother, and Evelyn retreated into darkness the moment his mouth crashed onto hers. His hands clutched at her blouse, holding her close and adding to the desperation of the kiss. He pulled her flush with his rock hard body, the contact spreading liquid fire through her veins, warming her everywhere they touched. Her knees threatened to buckle as he skillfully sent her emotions swirling, a vortex drawing her reluctantly—yet willingly—deeper and deeper into him. Immersed in a whirlwind of pleasure. Wanting to be needed. Needing to be wanted.

  Breathless, she pulled back, trying to control the heaving of her chest expanding in direct opposition to the solid wall of his upper body. Damn, this man could kiss. "Why do you have to be so good at that?"

  With a gentler kiss on the cheek, his whispered answer fanned across her ear. "I've found it the most effective way to get women to stop talking."

  She wanted to argue, wanted to admonish him, wanted to kiss him again. "Well, it was nicer than a shut up, I suppose."

  He chuckled. "Yeah, I've already been slapped a couple times tonight. Figured I'd take steps to avoid making my cheek even redder."

  Hearing his confession, she gently caressed his cheeks with her hands. "Dare I ask what you did to get yourself slapped?"

  "I told you. I broke up with door number two. She didn't take it so well."

  The euphoria from the kiss slipped from her body almost as quickly as it surfaced. "I really wish you hadn't done that. I'm going home in a few days to Chicago. You're going home to…Good Lord, Daniel, I don't even know where you live."

  "Mississippi."

  She rolled her eyes at his statement. "Great. Long distance relationships rarely survive in romance books. We would have zero chance. Besides, my mother will confirm I'm nothing but a big disappointment anyway. You're just wasting your time."

  "I have no idea what your mother has to do with any of this."

  Melodie sighed. "You mean your mother isn't trying to control every facet of your life?"

  "Not since I was sixteen. Before that we argued a lot." He grinned and kissed her forehead again.

  "Well my mother has never outgrown that particular desire. She is bound and determined to find the perfect job, the perfect house, and, lest we forget, the perfect man for me. Or, at least, support Evelyn's choice for the job." Her voice sounded tired, even to her own ears.

  He put his arm around her shoulders, gently guiding her back to the hotel. "I totally understand this is about more than you being pissed because I was late."

  "Technically, you were a no-show. And, for the record, I am upset." W
hy she'd let this man get under her skin, she had no idea. Because I want someone who can get under my skin and, maybe someday, into my heart.

  "Right. I was a no-show and I'm very sorry. I really wanted to see the memorial with you. I did try to reach you when I returned, but you weren't accepting calls. I'm guessing that was because your mom must've upset you earlier."

  "You're pretty smart for a guy, aren't you?" For the first time all evening, a smile teased her lips. Nothing too overt. A hint of smile. More like a slight upturn of the corners of her mouth.

  He stopped and cupped her cheek with his hand. "Not really, I just like paying attention to you." He combed his fingers through her hair before slipping his arm around her shoulders and resuming their walk.

  She leaned in to him. "Score one more for Dr. Jekyll."

  Once inside the sprawling interior of the hotel, she turned and smiled at him. "Enough talk about me. I'd rather talk about you and your breakup than discuss the sad state of my family affairs."

  "Let me buy you a drink, and I'll give you the CliffsNotes. That's librarian talk, right? I remember my school librarian mentioning something about those."

  Melodie rolled her eyes. He had a lot to learn about librarians. She added that to a list for another time and followed him the few steps to the lobby bar. Conflicted didn't even begin to describe the emotional storm barely held at bay deep within. His piercing blue eyes affected her on a frightening level. If she jumped into the deep end with him, would there be enough of her heart left should he turn out to be another in a long string of disappointments? Surprisingly, her heart won this battle. "One drink."

  "What'll you two have?" The bartender offered a knowing smile aimed at Daniel.

  "I'll take a beer, Coors light, and a vodka cranberry for the lady. Okay?" He took her hand and squeezed it.

  She shook her head. She needed to keep her wits about her for important conversations with him. Daniel's effect on her had already reduced her normally logical brain to a mass of jumbled wires and nerves, making her engage in activities well outside the norm. "Diet soda, whatever you have."