by Emery, Lynn
“What are those for?” Noel asked.
“Oil and perspiration from human hands damage old papers. I want to be extra careful.” Lyrissa slipped them on.
“Right. Well, like I said, just call me.”
“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” She gave him a distant smile.
“Right,” he repeated. He seemed reluctant to leave.
“Is there something else?” Lyrissa asked.
“In other words, ‘get out.’ I’m gone.” Noel grinned at her, and then left.
Lyrissa shook her head slowly. She would have to avoid him whenever possible. She turned her attention to the stack of yellowing documents.
For two hours she panned for gold.
Lyrissa rubbed her eyes and rolled her shoulders. Her neck ached from bending over the documents. Enthusiasm had changed to teeth grinding exasperation as she waded through each stack.
The St. Denis ancestors had included every tedious detail of their lives. Lyrissa might have been interested under different circumstances. But time was running out. Mama Grace and Aunt Claire reminded her daily of that fact. The only other valuable property left from the Joubert legacy was Beau Rive, a crumbling Creole cottage near Meraux, not far from New Orleans. Preservationists had warned that it would be lost if action wasn’t taken soon. Jules Joubert’s grandfather, one of the few Creoles of color with a small plantation, had owned it Jules had used it as a country home before moving to New Orleans in 1794. The Louisiana Historical Foundation would finance renovations, but only if they had at least one major artifact important to the state’s history.
Lyrissa stared out the window, trying to think of ways to speed things along. A firm knock at the door sent a prickle of anticipation up her spine. She turned, knowing who it was, somehow. Or was it wishful thinking?
“Come in,” she said.
Noel opened the door and stuck his head in. “Taking a break yet?”
“More like gathering my thoughts before I go back to work.” Lyrissa nodded at the folder on the desk. “I’m trying to narrow my search.”
“Told you my ancestors were obsessive about keeping records.” Noel wore an apologetic grin.
“I know so much more than I ever wanted to about nineteenth century chamber pots.” Lyrissa laughed.
Noel strolled over to the desk. He picked up a page en-cased in a Mylar envelope. “And the art?”
“I’ve found receipts for ten pieces of pottery, two sculptures, and a painting.” Lyrissa gestured to a separate folder. “I put those aside. You need to keep them labeled. You’ll need it for any art sale.”
“For the provenance. I’ve been paying attention.” Noel’s full lips curved up at one corner, giving his smile a sensuous quality.
“Good.” Lyrissa glanced down, as though interested in the papers.
“So you’ve made progress.”
“Yes, but there’s so much more I want to find.” Lyrissa’s thoughts went to one particular item.
“Maybe I can help.” Noel hefted a second box onto a side table he’d had Eddie set up for her. He took off the lid.
“Please do!” Lyrissa joined him at the table.
“Here we have personal letters and journals by decade. Reference to the art would most likely be in here some-where.” He ran his fingertips across the sections divided by blue and yellow tabs.
“You think so?” Lyrissa leaned a hip against the table.
“They sometimes attached receipts to letters about items purchased. So you may not find what you’re looking for in household lists.” Noel moved closer to show her an example. “See?”
The scent of his cologne fogged her mind. “Yes, indeed,” she murmured, and gazed at his strong jaw line instead of the document.
The creamy tan skin on his neck invited her to nuzzle it. Thick curls of bronze hair reached to his shirt collar. A tiny ember flamed into full-fledged sexual attraction. Lyrissa backed away and stumbled over a stack of boxes. Noel dropped the files he held and grabbed her.
“Careful! Are you okay?” He wore a concerned frown.
Lyrissa savored the feel of his strong hands holding both her arms. She stared into his eyes. Noel’s frown relaxed into a smoldering temptation.
“I-I should look where I’m going.” Lyrissa gave a shaky laugh. She drew her arms back, but Noel didn’t let go.
“Maybe you should stop for today. You’re probably tired,” he said softly. “I should have arranged these boxes for you.”
“I’m fine.” Lyrissa firmly tugged free of his grasp. “I won’t be here much longer.”
“With all this? I’d say you’ll be here three weeks, at least.” Noel swept a large hand around the room. “But I’m not complaining. Take all the time you need, Lyrissa.”
Lyrissa tried not to return his gaze, but she couldn’t resist. His golden eyes were a seductive lethal weapon. She was losing ground fast. As she’d had to do often when he was around, Lyrissa reminded herself of who he was and why she was really there.
“I’d better get back to the gallery.” She stiffened her spine as she walked past him to the desk.
“Will you come tomorrow?” Noel asked quietly.
“No,” she said quickly. “I mean, I’ve got classes.” Lyrissa packed her briefcase.
“That’s right. You’re working on your doctorate. I’d like to hear more about your dissertation.”
“Believe me; you’d be bored out of your mind.”
“I doubt that very much,” he replied.
Lyrissa did not risk glancing at him. He had a nasty habit of putting too much into a single sentence. “Besides, I know how busy you are. I wouldn’t want to take up your valuable time.”
“True, my days are pretty full.” Noel handed her a notepad that she then put in her briefcase. “So let’s have dinner,” he said.
Her heart thumped at the prospect of gazing at him in a cozy, dimly lit restaurant Real smooth. She fought her own reaction. “I don’t think so,” Lyrissa said in a cool voice.
“Why not?” Noel put a hand in one pocket of his slacks.
“I’m here on business.”
“We’ll talk about art, history, and appraisals. You are doing research on the St. Denis collection. I’m a St. Denis.” Noel reached in front of her and picked up an art book. His shoulder brushed against her body in the process.
Lyrissa shut the briefcase with a loud crack. “You were born a bit late.”
“I grew up listening to all the old stories. I can tell you which of my elderly relatives might help.” Noel grinned at her with sultry charm.
“So could your grandmother. Maybe I should have dinner with her”
Noel threw back his handsome head and laughed. His baritone voice poured over her like creamy milk chocolate. Lyrissa stared at his mouth. She could almost taste the sinful sweetness of it on hers. God in heaven! Why did he have to be so beautiful?
“You could, but she wouldn’t be as much fun. I’ll treat you to dinner at Commander’s Palace. What do you say?” A hearty “Yes!” almost spilled from her lips. The man had his finger on all the buttons. Still, she hadn’t lost her senses completely. Lyrissa stepped back from the ledge of lust.
“No, sorry,” she rasped, and then cleared her throat. “I think we should keep our business confined to this office.” Noel’s face fell at her refusal. He recovered and smiled gamely. “Okay. I tried.”
Lyrissa coughed to cover a laugh that almost escaped. Mr. Charisma obviously wasn’t used to hearing “no” from women.
“I’ll arrange my work before I leave.” She looked at him.
“Until the next time, then.” Noel rubbed his hands together.
“Right,” Lyrissa echoed. Once he’d gone, she let out a long sigh. “Safe,” she mumbled. A little voice replied, “For now!”
Chapter 7
The next week, Noel showed her around the office. Lyrissa followed him as he described the divisions of Tremé Corporation and introduced her to employees. Lyrissa nodded as he tal
ked, but her mind wasn’t on business at all. She needed to set boundaries between them. The man was a hungry hound and in his mind she was the main course. Still, she couldn’t afford to be too cold toward him, either. At least, not before she found the painting. Once more she reminded herself to practice being demure and tactful.
“Finally, this is the manager in charge of our residential properties. I’ll take you back to your office.” Noel wheeled around and started off.
“Goodness, I didn’t realize y’all took up this entire floor.” Lyrissa had to walk fast to keep up with his long- legged stride. “But you seem to have it all synthesized. I mean the insurance bonds go with the real estate side. You do property appraisals. Very impressive.”
“Thank you,” Noel said over his shoulder.
“You’re poised to do very well with your construction arm—when it’s up and running, that is.”
Noel stopped suddenly and Lyrissa bumped into his back. She caught hold of him around the waist to keep from stumbling. When he turned around, she jumped back.
“Put on brake lights next time,” she teased. The rock hard expression on his face said he wasn’t amused.
“How did you know about the plans to expand into construction?”
Lyrissa felt as though she’d stumbled in more ways than one. She cast around for a logical explanation. “I read an article in the newspaper, the New Orleans Chronicle. I think your uncle said something about it.”
She was grasping at a very flimsy straw. The New Or-leans Chronicle was an African-American newspaper. Each year an entire issue was devoted to Black businesses. Surely at least once in the past five years or so his uncle had bragged. Lyrissa was sure the pompous guy would hardly resist such a chance. She gazed back at him steadily, determined not to blink once. Noel St. Denis had many faults. Being easily fooled was not one of them. Lyrissa held her breath as she watched his expression, praying he wouldn’t realize she’d skillfully pumped information from his secretary.
“Right,” Noel said after a long ten seconds of staring at her. “This way.” He started off ahead of her again.
Lyrissa exhaled in relief. Time to smooth ointment on his bruised ego. “Listen, about your dinner invitation—”
“No problem.” He waved a large hand in the air.
“No, wait.” She tugged at his arm to stop him. “It’s just that I don’t want to compromise my work here or get distracted.”
“I understand, sort of.”
“I have my reputation to consider.”
“And being seen with me would damage it?” Noel’s dark brows drew down.
“I meant my professional reputation,” Lyrissa said. “But you do have your own reputation when it comes to women.”
Noel folded his arms across his broad chest. “Tell me what you’ve heard.”
“Well...” Lyrissa saw the impish glint in his eyes. “I hear a long list of ladies have fallen victim to your fatal charm.”
“Not that long a list. I do eat, sleep, and work.”
“Okay, so half,” Lyrissa quipped.
“Not as many as you think. But thanks for the confidence in my stamina,” he added before she could retort.
Noel’s smile broke through and lit up his face. He put one hand in his pants pocket. The movement was fluid, as though he were a jazz dancer. The thick eyebrows lifted slightly. That smile could melt stone. A flush of warmth seeped from the light in his eyes and into her body. Her pelvis tingled right down into the deepest, most tender regions. Despite her best efforts, her own libido seemed honed in on this guy’s deadly wavelength. In a panic she blotted out a full-color fantasy that involved his stamina.
She focused on a distant point past his shoulder. “At any rate, I do apologize. Maybe I’ve met too many chumps in the dating scene.” She turned away and wiped tiny beads of perspiration from her top lip. To cover her reaction to him, she started walking.
“Ah, so you’ve been busy yourself.” Noel walked beside her down the hall.
“A few. Guess I’m picky,” Lyrissa said.
“Me, too.” He was silent for a moment. “So what does Mr. Right have for you?”
The question startled Lyrissa. “What?”
“Your ideal man, what’s he like? I already know I don’t qualify. Just curious.”
She wasn’t at all comfortable with this talk. “I’ll know him when I meet him.”
“Cop out. Straight up truth, now,” Noel persisted. “Well, for a start, he should be sensitive and caring. I don’t like men with huge egos or who take themselves too seriously. And Lord! Deliver me from a dude with mood swings.”
“Hmm, sounds like an easy order to fill. I take it you’ve met him? Of course you have. Fine looking women like you don’t run around free for long.”
Lyrissa stole a sideways glance at him. He seemed sincere, but she wasn’t going down that easy again. “Slipped that one in. Real smart.”
“No line, no He. Or am I making you uncomfortable again?” He faced her when they reached the double doors leading to his office.
“If I seemed uncomfortable, it’s only because I’m allergic to bull.” Lyrissa smiled at him sweetly and batted her eyelashes.
“Now who’s playing games? I’ve met few beautiful women who didn’t know their power.” Noel gazed at her from head to toe.
“I’m not vain, Mr. St. Denis.”
“No, but you’re poised in a natural way. You move with confidence.” He studied her intently. “And call me Noel, please.”
Lyrissa shook her head. “Everyone has insecurities, and I’m no exception. I went to St. Mary’s. I didn’t pass the Creole acid test—light skin color and ‘good’ hair.”
Noel’s amused expression turned sour. “I hope you took care of them! I had to myself. My best friend didn’t pass that test, either.”
Lyrissa was skeptical. “Really? So how many fights did you have?”
“One too many,” Miss Georgina cut in. She stood in the open door to Noel’s office. “Ronnie was too willing to swing his fists and you shouldn’t have jumped in.”
“Ronnie wasn’t the problem.” Noel was obviously ready to launch a tirade.
Miss Georgina waved a hand. “Yes, yes. Ronnie turned into a fine young man. Excuse us, Ms. Rideau. I need to talk to my grandson.”
Lyrissa accepted the dismissal. She was not one o them. Miss Georgina’s tone reminded her of that one* again ... as if she needed it.
“Of course.” Lyrissa spun around and left them without looking back.
Noel watched her walk away. Some force, like a hook inside his gut, pulled at him to follow her. Lyrissa’s curvaceous hips moved inside the taupe shirtdress in delightful way. He admired the shapely legs just beneath the knee-length hem as well.
“Noel,” Miss Georgina said sharply.
He turned to find two sets of eyes boring into him. Julie stood in the hallway, her facial muscles rigid with displeasure. After a few moments, she continued on her way.
“I have a lot of calls to make and two meetings,” Noel said shortly. He nodded for his grandmother to precede him into his office.
“Don’t patronize me, son. I helped build this company.” Miss Georgina marched past him.
“Yes, ma’am, you did. And now I have to rebuild it.” Noel kept his tone respectful, yet firm.
Her eyes narrowed as she regarded him in stony silence for several seconds. Then she nodded. “This won’t take long.”
Noel closed the door. He waited until she was comfort-ably seated before he sat next to her. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Your grandfather would be proud of you, Noel. You’ve done a fine job.”
“Thank you. Somehow I sense that a ‘but’ is coming,” Noel said with a slight smile.
“Not when it comes to running the business.” Miss Georgina looked at him steadily. “Be careful with Lyrissa Rideau.”
“How did we go from my performance as CEO to Lyrissa?” Noel’s amusement started to fa
de.
“You have the entire family on your shoulders.” She held up one hand to stop him from speaking. “I know it’s not fair, but there it is.”
“I know what the company means to us all,” Noel said.
“You’re not just the head of this company. You must realize that. There are our family and business relationships to consider.” Miss Georgina brushed a wrinkle from her royal blue dress.
“And?” Noel had a nasty suspicion where she was headed.
“Julie deserves some consideration. She’s a fine woman from a good family. At least have the decency not to flirt right in front of her.”
“I’m not going there again, Grandmother,” Noel warned.
Miss Georgina pressed anyway. “I know your father’: weakness in that department. I’d hoped you had more restraint. But at least be discreet. Julie won’t wait forever. And her father won’t appreciate having his daughter humiliated’ “I will choose my female companions, and one day I’ll choose my own bride. Frankly, Julie didn’t make the short list,” Noel said curtly.
“Don’t be crude.” Miss Georgina replied.
“I have my priorities on straight, but thanks for your concern.” Noel put a note of finality in his voice.
“In other words, butt out of your personal life?” Miss Georgina frowned at him. “Fine, the subject is closed.” Noel started to retort that he doubted it, but didn’t “Don’t worry. This family taught me to be a realist when it comes to marriage.”
“Marriage is more than some romantic trip down Lover’s Lane. It’s a partnership,” Miss Georgina said, shaking a finger at him.
“Fine, fine.” Noel did not want to hear that lecture again. “Carlton is the other reason I wanted to talk to you. He’s criticizing you to the board. He’s doing it on the sly of course.”
“What else is new?”
“They might listen if you show poor judgment.” She pressed her lips together.
Noel’s anger spiked again. They were back to Lyrissa. “Not as long as the profits increase. With the money they’ve made, I’m sure they like my judgments just fine. Or you can let Uncle Willie and Carlton run this damn place.”