Millionaires' Destinies: Isn't It Rich? / Priceless / Treasured

Panicked that she might have done something so completely impulsive and dangerous because of him, he bounded upstairs and very nearly broke down the guest-room door with his pounding. He heard her sleepily mumbled “What?” just as he threw open the door.

Undisguised relief flooded through him at the sight of her in the bed, the comforter pulled up to her chin, her hair rumpled, her eyes dazed.

“Is something wrong?” she asked in that same husky, half-asleep tone.

The comforter drooped, revealing one bare shoulder and a tantalizing hint of breast. Heart pounding, Richard began backing away. “No, really. Sorry.”

“Richard?”

Even half-asleep, she was constitutionally incapable of letting anything go, he concluded grimly. He was going to have to explain himself, or at least come up with something plausible that wouldn’t give away how frantic he’d been when he’d imagined her risking her neck on the icy roads.

“Um, the front door was open,” he said, improvising quickly. “I thought someone might have broken in. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”

Her gaze narrowed. “The front door was open?”

“Just a crack,” he said, guessing that she was about to worry that piece of information to death.

“But I closed it. I know I did. I didn’t lock it, because I wasn’t sure if you had another key with you and I wasn’t sure if I’d hear you if I fell asleep and you knocked, but I’m sure it was securely shut.”

“No big deal,” he said. “As long as you’re okay. Go back to sleep. Sorry I disturbed you.”

She smiled and stretched, allowing another tiny slip of the comforter. She seemed to be oblivious to the sexy picture she presented.

“I’m awake now. I might as well get up.”

Because she seemed about to do exactly that without regard for her lack of attire—or what his vivid imagination believed to be her lack of attire—Richard bolted. He wasn’t sure his heart could take the image of a totally unclad Melanie being burned in his mind forever.

He was downstairs, in the kitchen, making another pot of very strong coffee, when she finally appeared, her face scrubbed clean, her hair tidied. He’d liked it better all tousled, but it was evident she was trying to reclaim her professional—totally untouchable—decorum. He could have told her that not even the most modest power suit of all time could accomplish that. She was an innately sexy woman, the kind who conjured up forbidden images, at least for him.

“Coffee?” he offered.

“No, thanks. Too much caffeine and I’ll never sleep tonight.”

Richard was pretty sure he wasn’t going to sleep anyway, so a little caffeine wasn’t going to matter. “I bought a video for us to watch later,” he said, gesturing to the table.

She picked it up, studied it, then grinned. “You bought a romantic comedy?”

“I heard it was good,” he muttered defensively. “I thought all women liked that kind of sappy stuff.”

“We do. I’m just surprised you took my feelings into account.”

“My aunt raised me to be a thoughtful host.”

“Even when you’re an unwilling one?” she asked skeptically.

“Even then,” he insisted. “Maybe it’s most important of all then. And Destiny obviously knew that I’d mastered that lesson when she sent you charging down here. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have risked it.”

Melanie met his gaze and opened her mouth. Richard cut her off. “I don’t want to hear another apology. We both know you’re here because of my aunt. If anyone’s to blame for the awkwardness of the situation, it’s Destiny.”

“She was just trying to help both of us out,” Melanie replied. “You can hardly blame her for caring about you and for trying to do me a favor.”

“Yes, I can,” he said grimly. “When it takes the form of meddling, I most certainly can. If this was only about that contract, she’d have planted you in my office on Monday morning, not in this cottage on a Friday night, armed with my favorite wine and food.”

Melanie grimaced. “Maybe we shouldn’t go there. We don’t seem to see eye-to-eye on your aunt’s motivation. In fact, maybe I should go in the living room and sit in front of the fire and get some work done, and you can stay in here and do the same.”

Richard bit back a grin. “Retreating to neutral corners, as it were.”

“Exactly.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” he said as he gazed directly into her eyes. He thought he detected a faint hint of longing there. Best not to give himself the chance to discover if he was right.

She stood there, looking undecided, then finally sighed. “See you later, then.”

“Yeah, see you later.” When she was almost out of sight, he called after her. “Melanie?”

She hesitated but didn’t turn back to face him. “Yes?”

“Anything in particular you’d like for dinner?”

She turned then, her expression perplexed. “There are choices?”

“Sure. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Destiny made it seem as if…”

“As if I would be starving if you didn’t show up down here,” Richard guessed. He grinned. “Told you what she was up to.”

Melanie nodded. “Damn but she’s good,” she said, sounding more admiring than annoyed.

“It’s something we should both keep in mind, don’t you think?” he responded.

“Oh, yes,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I will definitely keep that in mind. As for dinner, surprise me.”

As if I could, Richard thought, but he nodded. Maybe when it came to dinner, he could come up with something totally unexpected. Lord knew, though, that the woman seemed able to read his mind when it came to anything else.

Melanie grabbed her cell phone and marched outside, oblivious to the cold. She punched in Destiny Carlton’s number, then waited for a connection. When it came, the signal was faint, but she could hear Destiny’s cheerful voice.

“You are one very sneaky woman,” Melanie accused, though without too much rancor.

“Melanie, darling. How are you? Are you stranded down there with Richard?” There was an unmistakably optimistic note in her voice.

“I’m sure you knew I would be,” Melanie grumbled.

“Not knew, hoped,” Destiny corrected. “Is it going well? Has he agreed to hire you yet?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Destiny said, clearly disappointed. “Maybe I should have a talk with him. Where is he?”

“In the kitchen working, and I am not letting you talk to him,” Melanie said. “I think you’ve done quite enough meddling for one weekend.”

“Has something gone wrong?” Destiny asked worriedly. “You two haven’t had words, have you?”

“Not the way you mean. What we have done is compare notes. Now I’m even more suspicious of your motives than I was the other day. In fact, I’m convinced that your intentions were not entirely aboveboard and honorable.”

“That’s a fine thing to say when I’ve only been trying to help you out,” Destiny said with indignation.

“Nice try,” Melanie retorted, not buying the huffy act for an instant. “And I’m sure that getting me this contract is at least a small part of what you’re after, but you want more out of this weekend, don’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re suggesting,” the older woman claimed blithely. “Whoops, there’s my other line. I’m expecting an important call from Richard’s brother Mack. Have a lovely time down there, darling, and give Richard a kiss for me. Don’t you two dare leave until the roads are cleared. I don’t want to be worried sick that you’re skidding into a snowdrift.”

She was gone before Melanie could respond. Give the man a kiss for her, Melanie thought irritably. Right. That was exactly what Destiny was after, and the more kissing the better. She punched in Destiny’s number again, but this time the connection wouldn’t go through at all. Melanie sighed, jammed the cell phone back in her pocket and went inside.

Richard walked into the living room just then and regarded her quizzically. “What on earth were you doing outside without a coat?”

“Calling your aunt.”

His lips twitched. “And?”

“She denies that this was a setup for anything other than getting a business deal worked out.”

“What did you expect, that she’d admit to it?”

“Yes, I expected her to be honest.”

“I’m sure she was. In fact, I imagine if you went over every word that came out of her mouth, you wouldn’t find a single thing that wasn’t accurate and truthful.”

Melanie considered the conversation she’d just had with the maddening woman and concluded Richard was right. Destiny had skirted carefully around any outright lies, while admitting nothing. “She should be the one going into politics,” she muttered.

“Heaven help us if she chose to,” Richard said. “She doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and the political arena is crawling with idiots. Destiny’s completely nonpartisan when it comes to calling it as she sees it. After a few weeks, no political party would have her.”

“Just think how refreshing it would be to listen to her, though,” Melanie speculated.

“Refreshing is not the word I would have chosen,” Richard replied. “But, then, I’ve been listening to her most of my life and have seen what she’s like once she gets a bee in her bonnet. She’s relentless.”

“And you think that’s what we are, a bee in her bonnet?”

“I’d stake my life on it.”

“Well, too bad,” Melanie said forcefully. “She’s just going to have to lose this one. You and I have agreed on that.”

She looked up to find Richard staring at her, that disconcerting heat once again blazing in his eyes.

“Have we really?” he asked softly.

Her pulse leaped. “Yes, of course, we have,” she said, trying hard to sound irrefutably emphatic.

“Then Destiny will just have to accept it,” he said, with what sounded like a vague note of regret in his voice.

Melanie swallowed hard, trying not to choke on her own regrets. “Suddenly I’m starving,” she said. “Must be all that fresh air and exercise.”

Richard finally tore his gaze away. “I’ll start dinner then. Would you like a glass of wine? There’s another bottle of cabernet.”

“Sure,” she said eagerly. One glass would calm her nerves. And one was her limit. Two would weaken her resolve, and it was already nearly in tatters.

She followed Richard into the kitchen. “Do you think we’ll be able to get away from here in the morning?”

“The main roads will definitely be clear, and I imagine even that insubstantial little car of yours will be able to get out to the highway.”

He sounded almost as eager to put an end to this weekend as she was. If he mattered to her in a personal way, his words would have hurt her feelings. As it was, there was just a tiny little nip to her ego. Or so she told herself.

“Stay here while I cook,” he suggested, his fingers lingering against hers as he handed her the glass of wine.

“Not a good idea,” she said.

“Why?”

“You know the answer to that. We seem to lose our heads when we’re in the same room for too long.”

“And that’s such a bad thing?”

“Richard!”

He shrugged. “I just thought it would be nice to have some company.” He grinned. “I’ll give you a knife, and you can cut the vegetables. If I get out of line, you can defend yourself.”

Melanie laughed, despite all the warning bells going off in her head. She pulled out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table, taking a long swallow of wine. Then she met his gaze.

He looked surprisingly relieved.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Whatever,” she replied, then grinned. “But I want a very big knife.”

“Now there’s a sentence guaranteed to strike terror in a man’s heart,” he said, laughing even as he handed her a deadly looking butcher knife, then added a more suitable paring knife for the vegetables.

They managed to get through the dinner preparations without bloodshed and without a single sly innuendo or seductive comment. Part of Melanie was relieved by that. Another part of her felt as if she’d lost something important.

It was because of that part that she set her glass aside at the end of the meal and stood up. “I’ll say good-night now,” she told him.

“You don’t want to see the movie?”

“I’ve seen it,” she fibbed, because she couldn’t risk letting her defenses down for one more second.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier? I could have gone out and gotten another movie.”

“Maybe you should watch this one,” she told him. “The hero winds up with the girl.”

She felt his gaze on her as she left the room and knew he had gotten the message that he needed a few pointers if he was ever going to do the same. She wasn’t sure why it seemed to matter so much to her that he understand that, but it was. And that was more troubling than anything else that had gone on all weekend long.

Chapter Six

Richard had stayed up till midnight watching the romantic comedy he’d bought. He’d heard the unspoken message in Melanie’s parting shot the night before. The suggestion that he had no idea what women wanted, that he couldn’t keep one, had rankled.

If he wanted a woman in his life, he’d have one. He’d achieved every other goal he’d set for himself. He didn’t doubt for a second that he could have a wife if he wanted one. He’d simply chosen to remain single. Period.

He’d been tempted to follow Melanie upstairs and tell her that, but had managed to stop himself from making that mistake. A discussion with Melanie—in her bedroom no less—could not lead to anything but trouble.

Still, he had watched the movie. He hadn’t much enjoyed watching the hero twist himself inside out trying to figure out how to win the heroine’s heart. If that was what Melanie—or any other woman—wanted from a man, she was fresh out of luck with him.

After watching the end of the video, he’d gone to bed in a foul mood. And he was still feeling cranky and out of sorts when Melanie breezed downstairs in the morning looking fresh as a daisy. Obviously she hadn’t lain awake all night grappling with any aspect of their relationship. Or, more precisely, their nonre-lationship.

“You look chipper,” he said in a way that even he could hear made “chipper” into a less-than-positive thing.

“Feeling great,” she concurred, ignoring his testy tone. “Is that bacon I smell?”

“Yes, and I have batter for waffles, if you want one,” he offered.

“Heaven,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” he lied.

She gave him a doubtful look but didn’t question his claim. “I noticed that the road in front of the house has been plowed. I’m sure you’ll be relieved to have me out from underfoot and have this place back to yourself,” she said. “I’ll take off as soon as I’ve had something to eat.”

Instead of cheering him up, her announcement made him want to dawdle. Because that was so completely ridiculous, he immediately poured batter onto the steaming waffle iron and snapped the lid closed. He took the plateful of bacon he’d microwaved earlier out of the oven where he’d been keeping it warm, then slammed it down on the table with more force than necessary. Melanie gave him another questioning look but remained silent.

“Juice?” he asked. “There’s orange.” He peered into the refrigerator as if there were some uncertainty, then added, “And cranberry.”

“Orange juice would be good,” she said, watching him closely. Apparently she could no longer contain her curiosity, because she added with concern, “Richard, are you upset about something?”

“Absolutely not,” he said sharply, in a tone guaranteed to contradict his words.

Melanie retreated into wounded silence, which was what he’d been hoping for—wasn’t it? Instead, he felt like he’d kicked a friendly puppy.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Obviously I got out of bed on the wrong side this morning.”

She shrugged. “Just proves you’re human.”

“Stop that! Stop letting me off the hook,” he snapped, annoyed with her, with himself, with the universe.

She stared at him. “Okay, what’s really going on here? Have I missed something? Did you want me to take off right away? Have I tested your patience long enough?”

Richard sighed. “No. It’s not you. It’s me. To be honest, I don’t know what I want. Blame my lousy mood on stress, not enough sleep, whatever.”

“You said you slept like a baby.”

Naturally she’d been paying close attention to his stupid lie and just had to call him on it. He should have expected that. Frowning, he admitted, “I lied.”

“Why?”

“Because you came in here all cheerful and bright eyed and I didn’t want you to think I’d lost even a second’s sleep last night.” He kept his gaze firmly fixed on the waffle iron when he made the admission.

“Are we having some sort of competition?” she asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.

“My entire life has been about competition,” he muttered, as he snagged the golden waffle, put it on a plate and placed it in front of her.

“With whom? Your brothers?”

He shook his head. “With myself. I set goals, mostly based on my father’s expectations, then I battle with myself to attain them.” He gave her a wry look. “So far I’m right on track.”

“But are you happy?” she asked quietly.

“Of course,” he said quickly, possibly too quickly.

Melanie kept her steady gaze on him and waited.

“Mostly,” he amended finally. He’d been completely happy until he’d watched that ridiculous movie and started questioning the lack of a woman in his life.

“What do you win in these competitions of yours?”

“Respect,” he said immediately.

“You mean self-respect.”

Richard shook his head. “No, just respect.”

She regarded him quizzically. “Your father’s?” she asked, her voice incredulous. “Is that it, Richard? Are you still trying to earn your father’s respect?”

As she said it, he heard how ridiculous that sounded. His father had been dead for twenty years. “That would be impossible,” he said, shaken by the sudden awareness of what he’d been doing for far too long. He’d been living his life to please a man who could no longer be satisfied—or dissatisfied—with his accomplishments. And overnight he’d been examining his entire life based on a movie premise…and on one offhand comment from a woman who barely knew him.

“Yes,” Melanie told him. “It would be. Self-respect is far more important, don’t you think?”

This was more self-analysis than Richard could cope with on an empty stomach. “Enough of this,” he said brusquely. “How’s your waffle?”

Her gaze held his, challenged him, but then she finally let it drop to the forkful of waffle she was holding. “Perfect,” she said. “You could always open a restaurant, if you get tired of running a multinational conglomerate.”

“We have restaurants,” he noted as he sat down with his own plate and poured maple syrup over the waffle.

She chuckled. “I doubt you’ve seen the inside of the kitchen in any of them.”

Richard shrugged. “They have fine chefs and great managers. They don’t need me in there. All I care about is the bottom line of that division.”

“Adding up all those numbers is what gives you pleasure?” she prodded.

“Of course. It’s what I do best. Numbers are logical.”

“And that’s important to you, isn’t it? You need everything in your life to be logical.”

He frowned at her. “You say that as if it’s a crime.”

“Not a crime,” she said lightly. “Just not much fun.”

How many times had he listened to exactly the same lecture from Destiny? It hadn’t bothered him half as much when his aunt had tried to get through to him. “I have fun,” he insisted.

“When?”

“All the time.”

“Are you talking about all those charity balls you attend?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

“Then why do you always look so miserable in the pictures they take for the papers?”

“Miserable?” he repeated, astonished. “I’m always smiling.”

Melanie shook her head. “Not with your eyes,” she told him. “That’s where the truth is, you know, in the eyes.”

Richard’s gaze automatically sought out her eyes and saw compassion and warmth and even a hint of yearning. She was right. The truth was in the eyes. He wondered if she had any idea what message was shining in hers.

All he knew for certain was that the message scared him to death, because it so closely mirrored what he was trying so damn hard to hide.

“How did your weekend go?” Destiny inquired innocently on Monday morning when she put in one of her rare appearances in Richard’s office.

He’d been expecting her today, though. He was ready for her, or at least he thought he was. “The house is still standing, if that’s what you’re asking. I came away without any broken bones.”

“And Melanie?”

“I didn’t strangle her.” He gave his aunt a hard look. “What are you up to, Destiny? I know what you told Melanie, but I’m not buying the innocent act. I want the truth.”

“I’m trying to find you a good marketing person,” his aunt claimed. “Did you even look at her proposal?”

He had. He’d studied it in the wee hours of Sunday morning when he’d been unable to sleep for thinking about the movie…and about Melanie’s presence in the guest room. She was an annoying little chatterbox, but she’d been growing on him. The entire weekend he’d been able to think of only one way to shut her up. Since she’d ruled that out, she’d wisely scampered off to bed alone and he’d stayed up nursing the last of the wine while he watched that ridiculous comedy with its feel-good happy ending. When was real life ever like that?

Suddenly aware that Destiny was regarding him with an amused expression, he tried to focus on their conversation. “She has some interesting ideas,” he conceded.

“Then hire her.”

“She’s ditzy,” he said, falling back on his original impression because recent impressions were far too complicated. “She’d drive me crazy in a week. Maybe less.” He knew that for a fact, because she’d driven him crazy in just two days. She’d upended his need for logic and made him crave all sorts of things he’d never expected to need. She’d tapped into emotions he’d spent a lifetime avoiding.

“What’s wrong with that?” Destiny asked, her eyes filled with knowing laughter.

Richard cringed. It was almost as if Destiny had been an eyewitness to the way Melanie had rattled him and thoroughly approved of it. Maybe she was merely psychic. Whatever, if she got it into her head that her scheme was working, she’d never let up.

Before he could list all the things wrong with any kind of relationship with Melanie—business or otherwise—she said, “You need someone around to drive you crazy. Everyone else in your life bows to your every whim.”

“You don’t,” he pointed out.

“Yes, but I’m your aunt. I might get on your nerves, but you cut me a lot of slack.”

“I’ll cut you a lot less now that you’ve sent Melanie into my life,” he vowed.

She laughed, clearly unintimidated. “If you don’t hire her, you’ll regret it.”

In Richard’s opinion, if he didn’t sleep with her, he’d regret that more, but he wasn’t about to share that insight with his aunt. Especially since it was probably exactly what she’d had in mind in the first place when she arranged all of this.

He really needed to get on the phone with Mack and Ben and warn his brothers that their aunt was dedicating herself to playing matchmaker these days. If she tired of her lack of success with him, they were definitely next in line. He owed them the heads-up. Then, again, it might be more fun to let her take them by surprise, the way she’d sneaked up on him.

“Why don’t you meddle in Mack’s life?” he suggested hopefully. “Or Ben’s?”

Destiny’s eyes sparkled with merriment. “What makes you think I haven’t?” she inquired blithely, then turned and sailed out of his office, leaving him speechless and not one bit closer to being off the hook.

Melanie stared glumly at the Carlton Industries folder on her desk. It had been such a wonderful opportunity for her, but the odds of Richard ever changing his mind and hiring her were so astronomical, she might as well run the folder through the shredder.