by Jaci Burton
They stepped outside and the blast of hot air nearly knocked her over.
"Doesn't it ever cool off here?" she asked, dampness gathering between her breasts.
"Yeah." He signaled the valet to bring his car. "In December."
The young man in the red vest rolled to the entry in a sleek, silver Corvette. Aidan held the door for her while she slipped inside. He paused before closing her door and she was cognizant of his eyes on her legs as she tucked them inside the low vehicle. At least she'd worn panties.
Melissa had no more buckled her seatbelt when the car's engine roared to life. In an instant, Aidan tore off down the driveway and flew onto the street. She shot a glare in his direction. "You didn't tell me I'd need to increase my life insurance before getting into a car with you."
He grinned, his eyes masked behind dark sunglasses that only made him look sexier. "I like driving hot cars. And fast."
"Noticing that," she said, her right hand instinctively gripping the side handle on her door. "And I forgot my helmet, too."
"You won't need it. Trust me, you're safe with me."
She believed that one as much as she believed she'd be a brunette in the morning.
In very short order they entered the expressway.
"Where are we having dinner?" She was surprised that Aidan wouldn't take her to one of the touristy French Quarter restaurants.
"My parents' house."
Her right foot slammed down on the imaginary brake on her side of the car. "Excuse me? Your parents?"
"Yeah. They wanted to meet you. So do my brother and sisters."
Did she get engaged and wasn't informed? Had she known they'd be dining with his family she'd have chosen a much more conservative dress. Actually, she still couldn't figure out why she'd worn a dress that clung to her and was way too short for a business dinner.
"I'm not dressed appropriately for dinner with your family."
He quickly glanced over at her. "You look great, darlin'"
"I'm serious. I feel awkward about this, Aidan. You should have told me."
"I didn't know. Mom called me right before I left my apartment and said I was to bring you to dinner. Apparently Logan had told her you'd be spending a month down here working with me and she thinks you need some home cooking. Besides, they're all curious about you."
Great. An evaluation along with dinner.
"Couldn't we do this another night?" she asked, hoping to stall a family meet-and-greet. She wasn't certain she could handle a large family like Aidan Storm's.
"You don't know my mother. She doesn't take no for an answer. Besides, they're friendly and easygoing, so quit worrying." He slid his hand over hers and gave it a light squeeze.
Somehow his heated palm resting on top of her hand was not comforting. It called to mind other things she'd rather not think about. In short order, her list of acceptable thoughts was dwindling.
They drove to what must be an older part of New Orleans and pulled into a driveway that looked like nothing more than a dirt road leading into the woods. Pine trees nearly hid the property from view, but then the road expanded and the trees cleared, giving Melissa a look at the Storm family home.
Lovely and understated, the charming, two-story ranch all but blazed a welcome sign out front. A full porch running the width of the house was adorned with hanging plants, their colorful blooms draped almost to the white wood floor.
Aidan skidded the Corvette to a stop in front of the house and jumped out, running around to open her door. She smoothed her dress after she stood and inhaled deeply, nervous butterflies ramming against the walls of her stomach. Really, this was still a business dinner, no matter who they were having dinner with. This was simply southern hospitality and nothing more.
The butterflies continued to ram, ignoring her attempts at self-calming.
"Come on," he said, holding his hand out to her.
Why was she nervous? She was a marketing executive, for heaven's sake, and had stepped into the lions' den on more than one occasion. If she could handle a boardroom full of fire breathing CEOs, she could certainly deal with a simple dinner with Aidan's family.
Nevertheless, she instinctively slid her hand in his and allowed him to lead her inside.
The spicy aroma of Cajun cooking permeated the front room of the house, and as Aidan pulled her along she heard music and raised voices. Ignoring her pounding heart, she planted her most professional smile on her face.
"We're here!" Aidan yelled in his booming voice, dragging her down the hallway into a huge kitchen filled with people.
She quickly counted the people and came up with four, who all stopped and turned to her.
At least they were smiling. She swallowed.
"So, this is Melissa Cross." A petite, dark-haired woman who she assumed was Aidan's mother wiped her hands on her apron as she approached. Enveloping her in a warm hug, she added, "Welcome to our home. I'm Angelina Storm."
"Thank you," Melissa replied, taken aback by the woman's friendly nature. Maybe she was wrong. This couldn't be Aidan's mother. She hardly looked a day over thirty-five.
"A right pretty little thing she is, too." A tall, very burly looking man stepped up and hugged her quickly. His cheeks were ruddy and his smile genuine.
"Melissa, this is my father, Galen," Aidan said, then threw his arms around his father and got a bear hug of his own.
"You don't come around for dinner enough," his mother said, grabbing Aidan's chin and planting a kiss on his cheek.
"Sorry, Mom," Aidan replied, snatching a shrimp from a huge plate on the center island in the kitchen and popping it into his mouth.
"Hi, Melissa!" A sultry looking woman with long, raven-colored hair embraced her in the same way, then pulled back and smiled. "I'm Kaitlyn, the babyof the Storm family."
Kaitlyn certainly didn't look like a baby. Full, lush curves identified her as clearly grown. Melissa estimated Kaitlyn to be around her own age. She had a refreshing warmth about her that Melissa liked immediately.
Another woman turned from the stove. This one was much taller than Kaitlyn, her hair more a sable color. She also wore a more serious expression than her sister, but still she smiled and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you, Melissa. I'm Shannon."
Grateful to have a marketing background and used to meeting several people at once, Melissa made mental notes of who all the Storms were so she wouldn't confuse names.
"Where's Logan?" Aidan asked his mother, pulling his hand quickly away from the shrimp bowl at her don't-touch-that glare.
"That's for dinner. Not for your snack. And your brother is late. Still working."
"Old news there," Kaitlyn said with a sigh. "He works entirely too many hours. Life is to be enjoyed, not spent huddled up staring at four walls."
"Your brother must find his own destiny, in his own time, ma belle fille," Angelina said, patting Kaitlyn on the cheek.
Aidan handed Melissa a glass of tea and rolled his eyes at her, then whispered in her ear. "Ignore the destiny talk. It's my mother's favorite subject."
But a chill had passed through her at Angelina's statement. Her words, spoken in a voice so melodious and calm, seemed to hold some sort of magic.
"Can I help with something?" Melissa asked.
Angelina shook her head. "Absolutely not. Sit, have a drink and visit with us. There are plenty here to do the cooking."
And what cooking it was. She was forced onto a barstool next to a breakfast bar in the all white kitchen and watched the Storm women perform magic on the meal.
The smells were enticing. Spicy aromas of cayenne pepper and sizzling sausage filled the air, making Melissa's mouth water.
And the food wasn't the only thing making her mouth water.
Aidan stayed close to her side, laughing and joking with his sisters and parents.
She shouldn't like his attention. But she did. Especially when he casually placed a hand on her shoulder and ran his palm down her back. His touch seared her, harden
ing her nipples and making her wet, which embarrassed her since she was sitting in the same room as his parents and sisters.
And she could have sworn he chuckled at the exact time her panties dampened. Coincidence, obviously, but he sure had interesting timing.
"Where are you from, Melissa?" Kaitlyn asked.
"Boston."
"Oh, how lovely. I was there a few years back. Are you a native of Massachusetts?"
"Yes. Grew up there, went to college there, too." And she'd probably die there. She thought about that, wondering why that popped into her head along with a vague sense of dissatisfaction. The thought of spending her life in Boston had never bothered her before, so why did she get such a pang of emptiness at the thought of spending the rest of her life there?
"How do you like living in Boston?" Angelina asked while stirring a pot of something bubbly.
"It's nice, I guess. It's home." Well, didn't that sound boring? That was all she could manage to come up with about the place she lived? What was wrong with her tonight? It had to be fatigue.
"Gets cold in the winter," Galen said, leaning over his wife's shoulder to peer in the pot. Melissa warmed all over when the two of them kissed. Her parents wouldn't be caught dead involved in public displays of affection. As far as she could remember, she'd never even seen her parents kiss in front of her.
How she'd ever been created was beyond her. She'd never seen any warmth between the two of them. Then again, her mother was a busy socialite and her father traveled so often he seemed more a stranger than a parent. Even when he was around he'd never made time for her.
Nothing like this family, all gathered together in the kitchen, talking, laughing, even arguing together.
"Maybe she likes it cold," Angelina answered her husband.
"Or maybe she likes it hot," Aidan said behind her, once again firing up her blood until heat crept into her face. His hand on her shoulder burned. How could a man's touch fire her up so? It was almost unnatural.
She shifted, hoping he'd catch the subtle signal to remove his hand.
He didn't, only squeezed her shoulder lightly until she turned her face up to his.
Big mistake. If the fire inside her had flamed to life, his gaze revealed a bonfire inside. The oddest thing was, she could swear she felt what he felt, a raging inferno of desire that was quickly reducing her to cinders.
Sudden images of Aidan naked flashed before her. His body strong, tanned, his chest covered in a sparse sprinkling of dark, curling hair that glistened like burnished gold. His eyes blazed like molten amber and his huge cock stood erect between a dark tuft of hair between his legs.
The vision was so real it was nearly tangible. She reached for him, wanting to step into his arms and feel his strength and fire surround her.
Then she heard his husky voice whispering in her mind. "Now isn't the time, Lissa. But soon, it will be."
Okay, that did not just happen. And yet, Aidan arched a brow as if he knew she had heard him. Melissa had to focus all her strength on breaking eye contact. The vision disappeared and she let out a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. When she turned back to his family, they all looked at her as if they knew exactly what had just happened.
But they couldn't. They were probably appalled because she'd been nearly drooling over their son in front of them.
How could she have behaved so unprofessionally? This was nothing more than a business dinner with a colleague. And his family. Okay, so maybe it wasn't quite a business dinner, but that was no excuse.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could speak Angelina looked at Aidan and said, "Your destiny has revealed itself."
The heat vanished and a cold chill crept up her spine. She shivered as if someone had poured ice water on her. What the hell did that mean? And why did Angelina's gaze flit to her when she spoke about destiny?
"Not now, Mom, please," Aidan said, his hand slipping away from Melissa, leaving her bone-chilled despite the heated kitchen.
Angelina offered a motherly smile. "You can't escape it, mon fils, even if you wanted to. When it's time, it's time. When your destiny presents itself, you must face it."
Melissa sucked in her bottom lip and tried to pretend she was invisible. This was all getting way too deep for her. And her body was still vibrating from that weird vision trance thing she'd just experienced.
"Hey, everybody!"
She turned at the sound of a booming voice, grateful for the interruption.
A man even taller and darker than Aidan filled the doorway, dressed in the same style of casual jeans and polo shirt. He was the one she'd seen standing next to Aidan in the lobby of the hotel this morning. His blue eyes focused on her and he offered a polite smile as he approached.
"Sorry I'm late. Had a conference call that went on longer than I expected. You must be Melissa Cross. I'm Logan Storm."
She shook a hand that didn't hold nearly the same warmth as Aidan's. But, my oh my, was he good looking. Much better looking up close than even she had thought when she'd spied him talking with his brother earlier today.
"Hello, Logan. I'm pleased to be here, and anxious to start work on the project. Aidan invited me to dinner here tonight." She cringed inside, mentally berating herself for apologizing for being in his family's kitchen. Her professionalism was crumbling by the minute.
"Great. I'm glad he dragged you over, although I'll bet our mother didn't give him a choice in the matter. And has my family managed to torture you into revealing every personal tidbit about your life yet?"
"Logan!" Angelina warned, wiping her hands on her apron and holding out her arms for a hug.
As Logan stepped into his mother's arms, Shannon crooked a wry smile. "Mom's right," she said, then winked at Melissa." How could you even suggest such a thing? Besides, you know we save the inquisition and digging into her personal life until after dinner."
Melissa stifled a groan. It was going to be a very long night.
Chapter Three
Melissa couldn't believe the plethora of seafood, rice, beans, and breads spread out on the expansive dining room table. The place looked ready for a banquet. Did these people eat this much food every day? Looking at all of them, they must have holes in their feet because not one carried an extra ounce of fat on them.
They must burn their calories in exuberant displays of emotion. Aidan's family was loud, talking over each other, laughing at one end of the dining table, arguing at the other.
Shannon and Logan were the arguers. During their discussion Melissa learned that Shannon ran the Public Relations office at the hotel, and she and Logan were currently outlining the PR program for the new casino, each with opposing viewpoints.
"Look, you idiot," Shannon said, frowning at Logan, "you can't promote one without the other. It has to be a dual venture."
"I don't see why we can't do a PR blitz on the casino first to really generate interest, then tie it in to the hotel afterwards," Logan replied between mouthfuls, seemingly not insulted in the least by his sister's remark.
Shannon sighed and rolled her eyes. "This is why I'm PR and you're the big picture guy. Because you want The Rising Storm's name to be what people think of when they think casino. You have to promote the hell out of the hotel at the same time you do the casino."
Melissa watched the interplay, fascinated at how siblings could run a business together.
"What do you think, Aidan?" Logan asked, peering down the table toward his brother.
Aidan shrugged. "I can see both points. You want to generate interest in the casino without cramming hotel packages down people's throats, but then again you ought to tie the two together for name recognition. And, frankly, what we really want is more people staying at the hotel while they're gambling at the casino, instead of booking their rooms somewhere else. But PR? I'm Marketing and we have that angle covered. Public Relations is Shannon's job."
Smart man, Melissa thought. That's exactly the diplomatic answer she'd ha
ve given.
"You're no help at all," Shannon said. Then her gaze switched to Melissa's. "How about you, Melissa? What's your take on promotion?"
She swallowed the shrimp caught in her throat. All eyes turned to her. She formed her answer carefully, considering that every member at the dinner table had a vested interest in the success of the hotel/casino venture. "Our marketing plan consists of promotion of the hotel and the casino together. You can start publicizing the advantages right away, and then offer discount packages to your high rollers and frequent gamblers."
No one spoke for a moment. Melissa realized that in giving her idea, she had taken Shannon's side over Logan. Logan nodded. "You're right, of course."
Melissa exhaled. "The casino organization works with a master at public relations. He runs his own company and has promoted some of the newer casinos in the northeast. If you'd like, I can make arrangements for him to come down and work with Shannon on a PR plan."
"That won't be necessary, I can handle PR by myself," Shannon said, lifting her chin.
Logan countered. "Good idea. Have him call me so we can discuss his ideas."
Shannon shot a glare at him. "I told you I can handle this."
Logan wasn't fazed a bit by his sister's icy glare, and in fact turned his own frosty gaze back at her. "I heard you. I disagree. I'll talk to the PR guy...what's his name, by the way?"
"Max Devlin," Melissa replied. "I'll call him tomorrow and have him get in touch with you."
Melissa took a swallow of Galen's homemade wine, fearful that she'd just made an enemy of Shannon Storm.
"Then I want to be in on any conversations you have with him. This is my project, and I won't have some outsider come in and take over," Shannon said. At Logan's nod, she resumed eating, apparently nonplussed at being outvoted.
"Don't worry about it," Aidan whispered in her ear. "One of us is always disagreeing with the other about business. No one here holds a grudge or takes it personally."
To illustrate his statement, Logan stood and headed toward the kitchen, but paused and laid a hand on Shannon's shoulder as he walked by. She looked up, squeezed his hand and smiled.
"That's amazing," Melissa said to Aidan.
He tilted his head. "Why? Aren't all families like that?"