Millionaires' Destinies

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Millionaires' Destinies Page 13

by Sherryl Woods


  Melanie waited to hear what Richard would say to that. It would tell her a lot about his diplomacy and tact, to say nothing of hinting at his opinion of her professional skills. Not that he had much to go on yet.

  He met the senator’s gaze. “I’d recommend you hire her yourself,” he said, then grinned. “But not until I’m in office.”

  “Then you are definitely running for Council in Alexandria?” the presidential aide asked.

  “Definitely considering it,” Richard admitted as he and Melanie had just agreed.

  Listening to him, she decided he was going to be a quick study, which would make her job much easier.

  “Why not for Congress?” Senator Furhman asked. “Waste of time, a man of your caliber starting at the bottom like that.”

  “Public service at any level is never a waste of time,” Richard said, an edge in his voice.

  “Well, of course not,” all three men were quick to say.

  Melanie grinned at the smooth way Richard had put them in their place without overtly offending them or suggesting that their own ambitions were in any way suspect. He was going to be a good candidate, no question about it. No one would rattle him.

  “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse us, Melanie and I have things to discuss tonight.” He leaned down and gave his aunt a kiss. “Sorry. We can’t stay.”

  Melanie and Mack both gave him a startled look. Richard merely gave them an enigmatic smile.

  “You ready, sweetheart?” he asked her.

  The seemingly deliberate use of the endearment caught Melanie off guard. It was impossible to tell if it had been meant for Destiny’s benefit or for that of her friends or maybe even for Pete Forsythe’s ears.

  “Darling,” Richard prodded when she remained silent. “Ready?”

  Melanie nodded numbly. “Sure.”

  Not until they were outside in the cold night air waiting for the limo to reappear did she face him and demand, “What was that about?”

  “You mean the hasty exit?”

  “That and the hint that we had more fascinating ways to spend the evening? I thought we’d decided that was a bad message to be putting out there.”

  “You thought so. I don’t. Besides, this message was specifically for my aunt. We’ve agreed to that,” he said.

  Melanie wasn’t appeased. “You said it in front of witnesses, who are even now probably seeking out Forsythe to spill what they heard.”

  “I’m tired of worrying about him.”

  “You have to worry about him,” Melanie said impatiently. “You have to use the media to get your message across, not feed their appetite for intrigue. I thought you’d promised to listen to my advice.”

  “I did, which is why we got out of there, so I can listen to what you have to say and hear myself think.” He opened the door of the limo for her. “I’m starved. Why don’t we pick up something and take it back to your place?”

  Melanie frowned at the suggestion. “You’re not getting any crazy ideas of a personal nature, are you?”

  He laughed. “Several of them, to be honest, but I’ll settle for going over those résumés.”

  She shook her head. “You really know how to show a girl a good time.”

  “Before you get too huffy, wait till you see what I have in mind for takeout,” he said. “I guarantee you’ll like it better than the rubber chicken on the menu back there.”

  “If you say so,” she said, still not entirely convinced that he wasn’t up to no good.

  He settled Melanie in the limo, then went up front to have a private word with the driver. When he came back, he said, “He’ll drop us off, then bring back dinner.”

  Melanie knew she ought to be ecstatic that they were no longer under Destiny’s watchful eye and were far from Pete Forsythe’s speculative gaze. She ought to be even happier that they were actually going to talk business.

  Instead, all she could think about was how dangerous it was going to be for her to be alone with Richard with no one around to stop her if either one of them lost control of their apparently madcap hormones.

  “You’re going to want to change out of that dress before dinner,” Richard said the minute they walked into Melanie’s living room.

  She gave him a suspicious look. “Oh?”

  He grinned. “I’m not telling you to slip into something more comfortable,” he chided. “Though if that’s what you want to do, I won’t object. I have a particular fondness for women in satin and lace.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” she retorted. “I’m thinking a sweat suit.”

  To her surprise, he grinned. “Make it an old one.”

  “Why?”

  “That dinner I ordered doesn’t exactly mix with high fashion. Of course, if you want to live dangerously…” His voice trailed off.

  Melanie stared at him. She couldn’t quite get a fix on this oddly playful mood of his. “What on earth did you order?” she asked suspiciously.

  “It’s a surprise. I think you’ll be very happy.”

  “You don’t know enough about my taste in food to be able to make that claim,” she retorted.

  “Sure, I do.”

  “How?”

  “You have your resources. I have mine. Unless you intend to be totally stubborn, go change. I’ll fix us a drink. Do you have any red wine?”

  She actually had several bottles of the wine she knew he preferred. She was not proud of the fact that she’d gone out and bought them, hoping for an occasion like this.

  “There’s a wine rack in the kitchen,” she told him. “The selection’s hardly as extensive as what you must have, but there’s bound to be something there that will do.”

  Relieved to have him occupied, she fled to her room to change. She abandoned the baggy sweat suit idea—she did have some pride, after all—and settled for a comfortable pair of slim-fitting jeans and a becoming russet sweater.

  She was on her way back to the living room, when the doorbell rang. The chauffeur stood on the stoop with two huge insulated bags designed to keep carryout food hot. Melanie stared at the familiar logo on the bags, mouth gaping.

  “You ordered barbecue?” she asked as Richard came up behind her and took the bags. “From Ohio?”

  “Your assistant said you go into raptures every time you talk about it,” he said. “I figured I owed you something after canceling that meeting. I wanted to make you smile.” He studied her intently. “You’re not smiling yet.”

  “Give me a minute,” she said, still wrestling with the appearance of food from an Ohio restaurant on her doorstep as if it were being delivered around the corner. “When on earth did you talk to Becky?”

  “About twenty minutes before I had my secretary call and cancel the meeting. Once I spoke with Becky, I wanted to be sure I could pull this off before I had Winifred call you. I knew you’d be disappointed in me, and I wanted to make up for that.”

  “Oh, my God,” she whispered. No wonder Becky had been so worried earlier. She’d already spoken to Richard and knew he was planning this extravagant surprise. Becky also knew how Melanie was likely to react to a man who did something this totally unexpected and extraordinary.

  Richard studied her with a narrowed gaze. “You’re still not smiling. You do like this barbecue, right?”

  “It’s amazing,” she said. “It’s one of the things I miss most about home.”

  “That’s what Becky said.”

  “But for you to go to all this trouble,” she said, still stunned. “It must have cost a fortune to have this flown in.”

  “That’s what corporate jets are for. Next time, we’ll fly over and eat there. You can see your family.”

  Feeling totally dazed, Melanie turned around and walked past him. Until this instant she hadn’t comprehended what it meant to be a man like Richard Carlton, a man who could do something this outrageous on a whim. She’d been frightened by her growing feelings for him before. Now she was terrified. It would be way too easy to be seduced by grand gest
ures like this and forget all about the dangers of getting seriously involved with the man making them.

  She sat down at the kitchen table, picked up her glass of wine and took a careful sip to steady her nerves. Richard put the bags on the table, sat down opposite her and regarded her worriedly.

  “Are you upset about this? I thought I was doing something nice.”

  Melanie met his gaze and finally allowed herself a small smile. “You did. In fact, no one has ever done anything so incredibly sweet and nice and over-the-top for me before.”

  “Okay, I’ll confess I’m new to this. Is that a bad thing?” he asked.

  “It could be,” she admitted, her smile fading.

  “Why?”

  “It’s wildly seductive,” she said before she could censor herself.

  “Oh, really?” he said, clearly intrigued. “How seductive?”

  She gave him a scolding look. “Don’t even go there. I meant that I don’t know what to do with it.”

  He regarded her blankly. “Eat it. In fact, if the aroma coming out of these bags is anything to go by, that is definitely what we should do with it.”

  “I meant I don’t know how to handle a gesture like this,” she said impatiently. “It’s too much.”

  “It’s dinner.”

  “From Ohio! From my favorite restaurant, where I used to go with all my friends when we wanted to celebrate a special occasion.”

  “Would you have been happier if I’d brought in Chinese from down the block?”

  “Not happier,” she admitted. “But that would have made sense.”

  He reached for her hand, then pressed a kiss against her knuckles. “That would have been safe, that’s what you really mean, isn’t it? It would have been ordinary, acceptable, not scary.”

  She nodded slowly, trying not to notice that he was still holding her hand, that he was still sending shivers down her spine just with that touch.

  “Why are you so desperate to feel safe around me?”

  “Because we’re playing a game, Richard,” she said a little desperately. “That’s what we agreed to.”

  “And barbecue from Ohio changes the rules?”

  “Pretty much,” she said, afraid she was sounding both ungrateful and ridiculous.

  “Want me to throw it out?” he asked, picking up the bags.

  Reacting purely to the needy growling in her stomach that came with each whiff of the familiar food, she grabbed the bags away from him. “Don’t you dare. I don’t pretend to know why you really did this, but I want that barbecue.”

  He grinned. “Shall I get the napkins?”

  “Get lots of them, because this is not food that can be eaten neatly,” she said, opening the bags to find enough baby-back ribs, coleslaw, potato salad and corn bread to feed a half-dozen people. She looked at Richard incredulously. “Were you expecting company?”

  “I figured if it was that good, you’d want leftovers.” He grinned. “Besides, Becky made me promise there would be some for her in return for her not telling you what I was up to.”

  Melanie shook her head. “If she can bamboozle you to make a deal like that, maybe I should send her out to negotiate our contracts from now on.”

  “I think you do okay on your own,” he told her.

  “Thank you.” She looked him over. “If you expect to have a prayer of staying clean, lose the tie, roll up your sleeves and tuck a napkin in your collar.”

  He grinned and did as she’d instructed. He immediately looked more casual, more relaxed…more seductive. Lord, give me strength, she prayed. “And thank you for this food,” she added aloud.

  Richard gave her a questioning look.

  “Just saying a little blessing before dinner,” she said.

  Judging from the amusement flickering in his eyes, she had a hunch he knew that was only a small part of what she’d been praying for.

  “Melanie?”

  “Hmm?” she murmured distractedly as she took her first bite of the tender, perfectly seasoned pork. She had to stop herself from moaning with pleasure.

  “Look at me,” Richard commanded.

  She met his gaze and nearly shuddered at the heat she saw there. “What?”

  “Fair warning. I usually do safe and I usually do ordinary, but you seem to inspire me to go beyond that.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, I think I get that now.” Heaven help her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Richard was not the least bit surprised to find Destiny waiting for him when he arrived at his office the next morning. He’d known that her curiosity would get the better of her. It was not every night that he slipped out of a major social event attended by business and political leaders to be with a woman. He’d calculated the effect before he’d done it. That one move alone was going to convince his aunt he was serious about Melanie.

  Unfortunately, the fact that it had started as a game to get Destiny to back off was beginning to get a little fuzzy in his head. At some point last night, things had turned serious, at least for him. Until he understood why that was, he was going to be doing a delicate balancing act between convincing Destiny the romance was real and assuring Melanie that it was not. Damn, but subterfuge was complicated. That’s why he’d spent his life avoiding it, in business and in his personal life.

  “Did you and Melanie enjoy your evening?” Destiny asked without preamble. The glint of anticipation in her eyes suggested she was hoping for some very juicy details.

  “Very much,” he said neutrally.

  “Did you do anything special?”

  Richard gave her a sharp look. “You know about dinner, don’t you?”

  His aunt grinned. “That you flew it in from her favorite teen hangout in Ohio? Yes, I did hear about that. I must commend you, Richard. It was a nice touch, something I might have dreamed up had you asked for my input.”

  “Is everybody in my company on your payroll, too?”

  “If you’re asking if they all spy for me, the answer is no. I just make it my business to stay well-informed where my nephews are concerned. It’s amazing how cooperative some people are willing to be when you’re pleasant to them.”

  He heard the implied criticism, but he was in no mood for it. “You need to get your own life and stay out of mine.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe one of these days, when I’m satisfied that you, Mack and Ben are happy.”

  “We’d be a lot happier without you poking around in our personal lives.”

  “Really?” she asked doubtfully. “You’d never have met Melanie if not for me. Can you honestly say you were happier before she came along?”

  “I was at peace,” he said, trying to recall what that had felt like. Probably lonely, if he were to be totally honest about it. Melanie hadn’t been around all that long, but he was already having difficulty imagining his life without her.

  “Darling, that’s not the same thing at all,” Destiny said. “In fact, it seems to me you had a little too much peace in your life.”

  “I was content with that,” he said, even though he knew he was not only lying but wasting his breath.

  “Well, Melanie’s in your life now,” Destiny said breezily. “I hope you won’t do anything foolish to ruin it.”

  “I doubt you’ll give me a chance,” he muttered.

  She chuckled. “Not if I can help it. Christmas is coming, you know. Will Melanie be joining us next week?”

  “You mean for the traditional Carlton excess?”

  She frowned at the edge in his voice. “I love the holidays. Sue me. And despite your sour mood this morning, you usually do, as well.”

  She was right, though Richard had no intention of giving her the satisfaction of admitting it. “I assume if I don’t invite Melanie myself, you’ll do it behind my back,” he grumbled, even though he’d already planned to include Melanie in their Christmas Eve and Christmas Day celebrations. Let Destiny believe he was making a huge concession just for her benefit.

  “I
’m hoping that it won’t be necessary for me to go behind your back,” she said mildly. “Remember dinner’s at eight on Christmas Eve. Then I expect you all back for brunch at eleven on Christmas Day. We’ll open our gifts then. Be sure to get something special for Melanie. Do it yourself. Don’t leave it to Winifred.”

  “I think I can remember the schedule,” he said, ignoring the barb about assigning his shopping to his secretary. “We’ve been doing the same thing for twenty years.”

  “Tradition is important. Someday you’ll appreciate that.”

  Richard supposed that was possible. He’d never given it much thought before. For a moment his imagination took flight and he pictured years of family traditions created with Melanie for their family. As soon as the thought crept in, he stamped it out. He was getting carried away. If he wasn’t careful, this whole charade thing was going to get out of hand. Maybe that’s what Melanie had been trying to tell him last night, that it was already out of hand. If so, he was very much afraid she’d gotten it exactly right.

  “Richard’s on line one,” Becky announced with surprisingly good cheer when Melanie walked into her house after a meeting with a client she’d been putting off ever since Richard’s business had taken over most of the minutes of her day.

  Becky held out the phone. “You want to take it here?” she asked, her expression hopeful.

  Melanie shook her head. “I’ll get it in a sec,” she said, wanting to figuratively catch her breath before speaking to the man who’d literally taken it away the night before with his wildly impulsive gesture.

  “Once you two have talked, you can tell me all about dinner last night,” Becky added. “I can’t wait to hear every little detail. I’ve asked, but Richard doesn’t seem inclined to spill the beans on whether he got lucky.”

  “Good God, please tell me you didn’t ask him that,” Melanie said.

  “Not in those exact words,” Becky said, grinning.

  At last, some evidence of discretion and good sense, Melanie thought. Avoiding Becky’s probing questions was also a rather powerful incentive for keeping Richard on hold indefinitely. She did not want to engage in a postmortem with a woman who knew her as well as Becky did. Becky would see straight through any attempts to deny that she was falling for Richard.

 

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