“Then please, don’t put major renovations into any of your suggestions.”
Cecile gave her husband a playful punch in the arm, then she turned her attention again to Zack. “I just wanted to give you fair warning. Tom Kellison is here, a reporter from the Santa Rosa Gazette. He’s doing photos and a layout of the new stable for the Weekend Style section. He asked me who was coming tonight and I mentioned your name. I think he’s interested in doing a piece on your new headquarters and what that will mean to the expansion of the area. I told him I’d introduce you, but you might run into him on your own.”
Melanie could see there were almost thirty people milling about, sitting on the long sofas and love seats in the living room, chatting in the dining room. She suspected there were more guests outside.
“No problem,” Zack assured Cecile. “I’ll be glad to talk to him. It’s good publicity for the stores.”
Cecile nodded to the bar, set up along one corner of the living room. “Go get yourself something to drink and eat and have fun.”
The doorbell was ringing again, so Zack and Melanie moved into the living room. Zack’s hand was at her elbow as he guided her toward the bar, and she could feel the zing of his touch all the way to her toes.
“What would you like to drink?” he asked.
“A glass of Bianca would be good.”
“Bianca it is.”
As Melanie and Zack got caught up in conversations with people Zack knew and others who just joined in, she took special note of the living room and dining room area, already planning what Cecile could do with it. As more and more guests entered the two rooms, the temperature became warmer. She was about to remove her jacket when Zack asked, “Would you like to see the stables? It’s probably cooler outside.”
“Sure. I’ve never been around horses much, but I’ve always wanted the chance to learn to ride. Do you ride?”
“Now and then. I brought Amy out here a couple of months ago with Flo. I rode while they just looked at the horses. It’s hard to find the time, even though I have an open-ended invitation from Cecile and Don.”
“And when you have free time, you’d rather spend it with Amy.”
“Exactly.”
She and Zack seemed to connect on so many levels, and she saw the sparks of realization in his eyes that said he noticed it, too.
They walked toward the outbuildings on a paved path that was kind to Melanie’s high heels. Out in the open, with the cool night air brushing against them, the sky seemed even blacker, the points of light even brighter, and the glow of the moon even more magical. A few guests exited the stables as they neared the doors. Zack opened the large door for Melanie and waited as she preceded him inside. Her shoulder brushed his arm as the rustling of hay and the smell of horses and saddle leather wrapped around them.
There was a man standing at one of the horse stalls feeding a gray mare a few carrot sticks from the veggie platter. He smiled at them as they came down the walkway. Then, cocking his head, he asked, “Aren’t you Zack Morgan?”
“Yes, I am.”
The man extended his hand. “Tom Kellison. Cecile told me you’d be coming.”
The men shook hands, and then Tom’s gaze fell on Melanie. Zack explained, “This is Melanie Carlotti. She’s doing the interior design work on my headquarters.”
“Carlotti,” Tom mused. “That name sounds familiar. Are you from this area?”
“No. From Los Angeles.” Her heart pounded so loudly she wondered if the reporter could hear it.
“So was I until a few months ago when I moved up here to take the position at the Gazette.”
“I’m sure you meet a lot of people in your profession, many whose names sound alike.”
His eyes were questioning as they found hers again. “Maybe so. I’m either blessed or cursed with the talent of never forgetting a name. I’m sure it’ll come to me. Most things do.”
A wave of fear swept through Melanie. The story about the fire had been in the L.A. papers. Thank goodness she wouldn’t be seeing Tom Kellison again to remind him of where he’d heard her name. She just hoped he didn’t remember by the end of the evening.
Turning his attention again to Zack, Tom asked, “Is it all right if I give you a call to set up some time for an interview? I’m doing a fairly extensive article on the economics of the area.”
Immediately Zack took a business card from his inside pocket. “This is my home number. I’m on the road a lot these days until the headquarters are finished. If you leave a message there, I’ll be sure to get it and I’ll get back to you.”
Tom nodded and smiled. “I understand.” The reporter motioned around the stables. “Enjoy your tour. It’s some setup. It was a pleasure meeting you.” With a final wave he exited the stable and headed toward the house.
“Carlotti isn’t a usual name,” Zack commented. “I wonder why he thinks he remembers it.”
Not wanting to dwell on the subject, Melanie moved toward a pinto pony. “Isn’t he pretty?”
Zack laughed. “I’m not sure Cecile and Don describe their horses in terms of pretty.”
The overhead light created a subtle intimacy that Melanie was well aware of in the shadowed barn. She could feel Zack’s gaze on her as he went on, “That’s a term to describe a woman, one who looks like you do tonight.”
His gaze heated her, and she couldn’t ignore it. She couldn’t ignore him or the pull toward him that she was becoming accustomed to. Raising her head, she looked up at him. “Thank you.”
They were standing very close, and the only sound was the slight swishing of a horse’s tail. Zack’s brown gaze seemed to swallow her, and her breathing was coming so fast she thought it might stop altogether. She stood perfectly still as his hand came to her face. She’d longed for his touch from the day she’d met him. Now it was gentle as his thumb brushed her cheekbone and then glided into her hair. But when he ruffled the hair at her temple, he suddenly stilled and she realized why.
“That’s a scar,” he said, gently tracing his finger over it. “What happened?”
She could tell him why she’d come to him, why she’d sought him out, but she knew her feelings for him were growing deeper. More than anything, she didn’t want him to send her away. He’d do that if she told him about the dreams. He’d think she was crazy.
“When you asked about the two years I didn’t work…I was in an accident. It’s still too painful to talk about. It took me a long time to recover.”
After he studied her for a lengthy moment, he said, “I don’t like talking or thinking about the past, either.” His hand moved from her face to the nape of her neck. He murmured, “Maybe we can forget about it altogether.” And then his lips came down on hers.
There was nothing tentative or experimental about the kiss. From the moment Zack’s lips met hers, there was intense heat, potent desire and yearning hunger on both their parts. When his tongue swept along her bottom lip, she opened to him willingly. Her hands went to his shoulders, and she could feel his strength, the restrained tension in his body. He took the kiss deeper, and she knew she’d never been kissed like this before, never felt the fiery excitement running through her, never dreamed a kiss could be this sensual or yearning or perfect.
Then Zack abruptly released her, and all the sensations stopped so suddenly, she felt dizzy.
He looked troubled as he said gruffly, “That was a mistake.”
A mistake because there was so much feeling between them already? So much desire? “Why was it a mistake?” she asked, needing to know…because she was falling in love with him.
“Because you’re working for me. You’re staying under my roof, and I won’t take advantage of either of those.”
“You didn’t take advantage of me, Zack.”
He looked surprised for a moment, then a guardedness was back in his eyes. “Maybe not, but I don’t need my life any more complicated than it is. I imagine you don’t, either.”
She wanted to tell Zac
k that love shouldn’t complicate his life, it should enrich it. But she suspected he didn’t want to hear that. He certainly wouldn’t believe that she was falling in love with him after just one week. So she kept silent, and he took that as agreement.
“We’d better get back to the party,” he said gruffly. “There are other guests up there I want to talk to before we leave.” Then he turned away from her and walked to the stable door, waiting for her to join him.
This time as they walked the path to the house, it was as if a wall divided them. Melanie knew she’d have to be careful or she’d be out of Zack’s life before she even had a chance to decorate his offices.
The drive back to Zack’s penthouse was rife with tension…all kinds of tension. The knowledge they would be sleeping under the same roof didn’t help. Melanie had had a taste of whatever was sparking between them, and it would be much harder to put it out of her head. Would Zack have the same problem? Maybe the kiss hadn’t meant anything to him. Maybe the chemistry was something he could ignore.
When Zack unlocked the door to the penthouse, Melanie went inside and saw Ted Morgan stretched out on the sofa. He was watching TV, though, not sleeping.
“If you want to stay the night instead of driving back, Pop, that pulls out into a bed,” Zack suggested.
“Nah. I’m going to drive back. My old bones like my own bed. Amy’s been sleeping soundly since nine-thirty. I checked on her a couple of times.”
“Sometimes she wakes up around midnight. I’ll make sure she’s still asleep.”
Sliding his legs over the side of the sofa, Ted sat up. “Good party?” he asked Melanie.
“It was very nice.”
After Zack left the room to check on Amy, Ted said in a low voice, “My son likes you.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I like Zack. He’s a great employer—”
“I don’t mean that work stuff. When he looks at you, I see sparks in his eyes. I haven’t seen them since he first met Sherry.”
“Mr. Morgan…”
“Quit the Mr. Morgan stuff. It’s Ted. And you don’t have to be embarrassed. It would do Zack good to get interested in a woman again. The only thing is—” Ted cleared his throat “—Zack’s never been a one-night-here or one-night-there kind of man, if you know what I mean.”
“I know what you mean.”
“He said you’re from L.A. Are you planning on staying around here?”
“I’m considering it, but…we really are just working together.”
“You never know what could develop,” Ted concluded with a gleam in his eye.
After that kiss and the way Zack had backed away, Melanie had a feeling he wasn’t going to let anything further develop. That thought filled her with such sadness she wanted to cry.
After Sunday lunch Melanie was helping Flo clean off the table. Zack had taken Amy into her room to change her. He’d been casually polite this morning, sending off plenty of signals that told Melanie he had no intention of discussing what had happened last night in the stable or that he put much store in it. She wondered if he simply wasn’t ready to get involved again or if he was still so in love with his wife he couldn’t bear the thought of having a relationship with another woman. She understood both reasons. She just wished…
Flo suddenly put down the platter, yawned widely and covered her mouth with her hand. “I’m too old for these long days and late nights. It was fun coming back with a pocketbook full of quarters, but I’m going to pay for it all day. I was planning on going into Cool Ridge and getting groceries this afternoon, but I might fall asleep at the wheel.”
“If you make me a list, I’ll drive in to get whatever you need,” Melanie offered.
Zack came into the kitchen just then carrying Amy. “What do you need?” he asked Flo.
“Groceries for the week, diapers and countless other things if I put my mind to thinking about it.”
“Reno a little too rough for you?” Zack asked, amused.
Flo made a face at him. “Your day will come,” she muttered.
They all laughed.
“I offered to go into Cool Ridge for her,” Melanie explained.
“Why don’t we both go and take Amy with us? That way Flo will have the place to herself and can really rest.”
Surprised, Melanie glanced at Zack. After last night, she suspected he wouldn’t want to be alone with her. Yet handling groceries as well as a child could be tricky, and they wouldn’t really be alone. Amy would be an active little chaperone.
“If Amy’s along, the list will probably double,” Flo said in a mock whisper to Melanie. “Her father has a knack for picking up everything she wants.”
Zack smiled. “You know what they say about daddy’s little girl.” His gaze met Melanie’s, and she remembered the conversation they’d had about that. She also remembered the touch of Zack’s hand on her face, the texture of his lips on hers, the feel of his taut shoulder muscles.
She quickly picked up the vegetable bowl on the table and took it to the counter, hoping Zack didn’t see the remembrance of all of it in her eyes.
A half hour later, Amy babbled and pointed during the drive to town, and conversation didn’t seem necessary. Cool Ridge had a supermarket that—from the looks of it—had everything they might need.
Zack pointed to the back of the parking lot. “In the spring they’re going to enlarge to get ready for the boom of development. Cool Ridge might find itself growing faster than it wants to.”
“That would be a shame,” Melanie said, meaning it.
The sliding glass doors to the store opened as they walked toward them. “Do you like small towns?”
“I’ve never really lived in one. But I like the quiet out here. I like feeling less rushed.”
Securing a cart, Zack settled Amy in the child’s seat and strapped her in with the safety belt. As they went inside, she pointed to the bananas in the produce department. “’Nanas,” she said firmly.
“She’s going to be talking a mile a minute before you know it,” Melanie remarked, thinking about Kaitlyn’s vocabulary at the same age.
Zack ruffled his daughter’s hair and picked up a bunch of bananas. “I can’t wait. It’ll beat trying to guess what she wants.”
Just then a couple with three children around the ages of three, five and seven came bounding into the store. The children were chattering, the husband and wife were talking to each other as they strolled down the aisle. They made a picture that squeezed Melanie’s heart.
Her turmoil must have been reflected on her face because Zack asked, “What’s wrong?”
She hadn’t realized she’d been staring. “Nothing’s wrong,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’d just like to have a brood of kids like that someday.” To her dismay she couldn’t keep tears from welling up in her eyes as she remembered Kaitlyn and dreams and a future that would never be.
Seeing her emotion, Zack didn’t seem disturbed by it. “I wanted several children, too, but that won’t happen now.”
“Because your wife died?”
“It was a dream I had with her, and the dream’s gone.”
“Don’t you believe in having new dreams?” Melanie asked softly.
Zack shook his head. “Dreams are like bubbles. They burst, leaving lots of disappointment and heart-ache. It’s better not to have them.”
That wasn’t a concept Melanie could accept. “Don’t you have dreams for Amy?”
“That’s different. I have goals for Amy, not dreams. Goals are something you can work toward and achieve. They’re substantial and won’t slip through your fingers like sand.”
There was pain in his voice and in his eyes and she couldn’t dispute what he was saying. However, since her transplants, she’d come to a whole new understanding of dreams. She couldn’t share that with him, though. At least, not yet.
Amy wiggled in the cart. “Go, go, go,” she insisted. Her childish command broke the intimacy of the moment and the serious
ness of their discussion.
“Okay, we’ll go,” Zack soothed her and guided the cart down the aisle away from any more sharing that might tell Melanie what he was all about—about his vulnerabilities, about what he was feeling inside.
When they stopped beside a display of apple juice, Melanie asked Zack about something that had been on her mind. “Did you look over the pictures of the sculptures I gave you?”
As he set the bottle of juice in the cart, he glanced over his shoulder at her. “By that artist in San Francisco?”
“Yes. The pictures are good, but I really think you ought to see his work in person. There are other pieces for sale besides the ones on the flier. If the piece is going to sit in your lobby, it will be the first thing anyone sees when they come inside. It will be an important statement, sort of like a preliminary image of you and how you work and what you’re all about.”
“Uh-oh. Choosing a sculpture sounds awfully complicated. I just thought I’d pick out something I’d like to look at.”
Melanie laughed. “I guess I’m seeing it from an interior decorator’s standpoint.”
“That’s what I’m paying you to do.”
She had the feeling he’d said that to put up a barrier between them again. He was the employer and she was the employee. That was the extent of it.
So be it. He still had to choose a sculpture. “I checked on Vincente’s hours, and he’s in on Saturday from eleven to three. If you don’t have time or don’t want to make the trip, I suppose I could take a camera and shoot photographs.”
Zack’s gaze seemed to pass over every feature of her face. She felt it almost as strongly as if he’d touched her. He finally said, “I’ll check my schedule and see if I’m free.”
“I like that one.”
The certainty in Zack’s voice didn’t surprise Melanie as they stood in Vincente Largo’s studio, examining each sculpture. The one Zack was admiring was distinctly Largo. It was a bronze representation of a mountain with one man perched on top, another man at the bottom. Four feet high, the piece had a majesty about it that captured the onlooker. Instead of the usual pedestal, the mountain perched atop a granite base that seemed made for it, wide and jagged, a continuation of the work of art.
A Husband In Her Eyes Page 6