by Leslie Kelly
He’d known she was lovely when they’d met in the diner. Tonight, however…well, she was stunning. She sure didn’t look like his red-baseball-cap-wearing informant anymore.
He probably should have kept his attention on her face. Then, perhaps, he would have been able to smile pleasantly and not let her see how sucker punched he felt by her looks. Most likely he could have held it together, murmured something normal, like “Hello,” but instead he made the colossal mistake of looking down. Raking a slow, thorough look down her entire body to the tips of her toes, he tensed before slowly looking up.
Good God Almighty.
Nick’s breathing slowed, the thick night air almost sticking in his chest, the heavy fragrance of flowers nearly cloying as he struggled to regain control of himself. Because it was blue. That was the color of her glittery little dress. Peacock-blue.
Why did it have to be that particular shade of blue? Why did it have to be so tight, so perfectly fitted to her body? Why did the thing have no sleeves, and of what use were the silly, beaded straps? Why did the front drape so low into a V to draw attention to some positively mouthwatering cleavage?
Nick’s pulse started to pound in his temple as he grew more and more irritated.
Why did the damn fabric hug her like skin and why did it emphasize her slim waist and her just-right hips? And why did he have to now notice that most of her height came from incredibly long legs that would wrap just perfectly around him when he had her? As he was now even more determined to do.
Finally he pulled his desire-zapped brain back together enough to say, “Hello, Ms. Tanner. Isn’t this a surprise?”
“It’s my party,” she said evenly.
“You’re late.”
“Maybe I like to make an entrance.”
“Maybe you had to work up your nerve.”
She cocked a brow. “I can’t imagine what you mean.”
“Sure you can. I’m quite sure, if you think about it real hard, you’ll realize why I had the feeling you wouldn’t show.”
She was breathing harder now, getting riled like she had the other morning. Letting him push her buttons. But he had to hand it to her, she pulled herself together, pasting that serene smile back on her lips. “Now why on earth would you think that?”
With a nonchalant shrug, he said, “Well, I don’t know, maybe it was watching you practically run away the other day. I guess I was wondering if you’d ever work up the nerve to face me again.”
Her laugh sounded forced. “Really, Detective, you give yourself too much credit. If I stayed away from places simply to avoid men who annoy me, well, I’d never get to go anywhere.”
Beside him, Nick heard Dex snort. Even Nick had to give a rueful grin because, damn, the girl could sound lofty and ladylike as hell, even when throwing insults in someone’s face.
“Nice to see you again, too,” he replied, meaning it. It was nice to see her—if only she hadn’t walked up on him when he’d been picturing her in the sexiest lingerie ever made. “You been practicing that line since Wednesday?”
Her chin went up a notch. “That would imply I’ve thought about you at least once since Wednesday.”
“You saying you haven’t?”
“Not once.”
Shaking his head, he tsked. “Good thing you’re not wearing pants.”
She glanced down at her dress, obviously not following his meaning.
“’Cause there’d be flames around your ankles by now.”
Scrunching her eyes shut, she groaned at his liar-liar-pants-on-fire reference. “That was really lame.”
He chuckled, unable to hold on to any grouchiness about how damned beautiful she looked in that blue dress. Not when she was making him remember how cute she was when she got all huffy and annoyed. “What can I say? You bring out the dork in me.”
“I somehow doubt you were ever dork material, Detective,” she said with a wry smile. “I picture you being more the motorcycle-riding bad boy than the Steve Urkel of your high school.”
“Oh, he was definitely Steve Urkel,” Dex said, interjecting himself into their conversation. “I’ve seen the pictures. Jeans too short, thick glasses, class valedictorian. Can’t you tell?”
Tapping the tip of her finger on her cheek, she gave Nick a visual once-over. But her saucy, playful smile quickly faded.
Nick didn’t particularly care for the kind of clothes required for this type of evening. But when he saw her pretty lips part and her chest move as she pulled in deeper breaths, he couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t such a bad thing to put on a well-cut suit once in a while. Because she obviously liked it. Judging by the way she swallowed so hard her throat bobbed, he’d say she liked it a lot.
Finally, though, she squared her shoulders. “I think you’re right. I can definitely see the class nerd in him.”
Dex snickered.
“Hate to disappoint you two,” Nick said, “but I was the white-trash country boy driving the ancient pickup truck that was held together by duct tape and what was left of its paint.”
“Let me guess,” she said. “You kept a sleeping bag in the back of it for all the girls you took stargazing.”
He gave her a lazy smile, because she wasn’t far from the truth.
“Ugh. I think I liked you better as Steve Urkel.”
He looked up at the night sky. “There’s Cassiopeia,” he murmured softly, his voice as smooth as the warm night air. His best seduction voice. “You know, upside down, she looks almost like an M. For Melody.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “Your name is written in the stars.”
“Gag me.”
Shrugging, he said, “It worked really well on sixteen-year-old girls.”
“So save it for them.”
Dex cleared his throat. “Uh, please don’t. I’d hate to arrest you now that I’ve finally started breaking you in.”
“Ha. Nobody else would put up with you,” Nick said. “Now, as much as I enjoy being the butt of your jokes, I suppose I ought to introduce you two, though I might live to regret it. Dex, meet Melody Tanner. Melody, this is my partner Dex Delaney, more recently known as Rosemary Chilton’s arm candy.”
Snorting, Dex stuck out his hand and Melody shook it. “Thank you for not killing Rosemary. I was checking the odds on that right up until it was time to come here tonight,” he said.
“I was checking the odds on whether she’d be here tonight,” Nick added.
“Back to that again?” Melody said. Glancing at Dex, she said, “I haven’t killed her yet.” Then she turned to Nick. “And I haven’t said I’m staying.”
A smile making his green eyes sparkle, Dex said, “I’d really prefer to keep Rosemary alive for a little longer. At least long enough for me to teach that woman how to make a bagel without burning it.”
Melody sighed and shook her head. “I’m afraid if you want Rosemary, you’re going to have to get used to room service and crêpes suzette for breakfast.”
“Spoiled brat,” Dex said. “I need to take her up into the mountains to do some camping and fishing.”
“I think she’d prefer that I kill her,” Melody said.
Dex laughed aloud. “She can be a handful, can’t she?”
“But you seem to be doing okay,” Melody replied. Her tone grew a little more serious as she admitted, “She seems happy.”
Dex didn’t respond to that. Instead he offered to go get Melody a drink. Leave it to his partner to know without asking that Nick wanted a minute alone with her.
“Actually, I don’t want anything. Why don’t you tell me how you and Rosemary met? Have you met the rest of her family? I think they’re coming tonight.” Her words were hurried, and she actually put her hand on Dex’s arm to prevent him from leaving.
Coward. In spite of being surrounded by people, she was afraid to be alone with Nick. Which really amused him.
Melody might claim to have crossed him off her list on paper. But he didn’t think she’d done so in her head.
; “I’ve met Deidre and Brian,” Dex said. Turning to Nick, he explained, “Rosemary’s sister and her stepbrother.” Then he lifted his nearly empty glass to his mouth and drained it before stiffly adding, “But not her parents. I don’t think they’re exactly thrilled that the princess is dating…”
“A cop?” Nick asked, stiffening on his partner’s behalf.
“A Northern cop.”
Melody nodded in commiseration. Since she’d known Rosemary and her family for years, maybe she could grasp the whole rich-parents-disapproving thing. But as far as Nick was concerned, Rosemary’s parents were morons. Because their daughter would never in her lifetime find a better guy than Dex Delaney.
“They’re actually not so bad,” Melody murmured. “Her whole family has helped me out a lot since I’ve been back.” She glanced around the crowded party. “Speaking of which, I should probably track down Brian. He’s in charge of Rosemary’s father’s rental properties. And I’ve got some leaky pipes.”
“Nick is pretty handy,” Dex said, looking so innocent that even Nick almost believed he was being nothing but helpful. But he knew better. Dex might be honest and forthright, but he did occasionally like to amuse himself by yanking other people’s chains. Maybe that was why he and Rosemary got along so well.
Melody stammered something—probably excuses about why she’d want anyone except Nick near her pipes—when someone interrupted.
“Mel, honey! Welcome home!” An older version of Rosemary descended on them, the resemblance so strong that Nick immediately pegged her as the sister. Beside her was a man about her age but not resembling the flamboyant woman in any way. His shoulders were slightly hunched and he kept his head tilted down so that his pale hair fell over his eyes, as if he were terribly shy.
Unlike the blonde. “I’m so sorry to hear about the nonsense you went through up in Atlanta, but you’re home now.” The woman air-kissed both of Melody’s cheeks, then put her hands on her shoulders and looked her over. “You’ve gained weight.”
Nick bristled on Melody’s behalf, but before he could say anything, the woman continued, “Which is wonderful. Darling, you were skin and bones in the old days. Now you look like a woman.”
“Nice to see you, too, Deidre,” Melody said. Then she turned toward the man. “Brian, we were just talking about you.”
The guy’s eyes widened in surprise, as if he’d never expect a beautiful woman to talk about him for any reason. No self-confidence, that was for sure. He was surprised the man was related to Rosemary and her sister at all, even if only through marriage, because judging by this brief glimpse of Deidre, she was every bit the outspoken spoiled princess her sister was.
“Hi, Melody. How is the darkroom w-working out? Is there anything you n-need?” Brian said, his voice soft and tentative.
She squeezed his shoulder. “It’s great, thank you so much for your hard work. But I did want to ask you about something.”
Before she could ask Brian to check out her pipes—which would probably have sent the man right over the edge and destroyed his speaking ability completely—they were startled by a woman’s shriek. Nick and Dex reacted in nearly synchronized timing, spinning toward the noise, instantly going into cop mode.
Thankfully, he didn’t see any crime being committed. No woman was being manhandled, nor had anybody stumbled into the fountain or had a drink tossed in her face. Instead, there was simply the same attractive, petite woman with curly, light brown hair and freckles who’d been driving the moving truck the first time he’d met Melody. She was staring wide-eyed and openmouthed.
At him.
“Oh, my God,” she sputtered.
Staring? No. This had quickly progressed to gawking. The woman’s mouth was hanging open and her eyes were almost protruding out of their sockets.
Others at the party had apparently heard her squeal, because a dozen or more people stared over in curiosity. The buzz of conversation throughout the lawn diminished a bit.
“Ma’am?” he said, wondering if she’d had too much to drink, though it was pretty early in the evening. “Are you all right?”
“She’s fine,” a voice snapped from behind him. Melody. She stepped between him and Dex, shooting the woman a quelling glance. “That’s Paige and she’s just fine. Aren’t you, Paige?”
“But…but, Mel…”
“It’s so nice to see you. I’m glad you could come. Now let’s go find Rosemary,” Melody ordered, taking a few long strides toward the other woman, whom she grabbed by the arm and tried to turn toward the house.
The woman—Paige—didn’t move. “But, Mel…”
“Now, Paige. Let’s go.”
The woman’s feet still didn’t move. Then, finally, she lifted her hand and pointed a shaky finger. Directly at Nick.
“It’s him!” she exclaimed in a whisper so loud it could likely be heard at the River Walk. “It’s the Time magazine hero.”
Nick suddenly understood and controlled a sudden urge to smile. Obviously this was one of the other bridesmaids. One who knew a little too much. Which was why Melody was struggling so hard to drag her away before she could say anything embarrassing.
Too late.
“Don’t you recognize him, Mel?” the woman exclaimed, her voice growing even louder in her excitement. “It’s the number-one man on your gotta-have-sex-with-him list!”
MAYBE SHE’D LIKE PRISON. True, orange had never really been her color, and with her reddish hair, it’d probably clash horribly. And Melody couldn’t stand stripes. But maybe she’d be lucky and the prison jumpsuit would have vertical stripes…which were slimming, unlike those hideously rounding horizontal ones.
So yes, she might do okay. Which was a good thing, because she was plotting her second murder in three days. If this kept up, she’d be in Rikers by the end of September for sure.
“Paige!” someone snapped, finally interrupting the deafening silence that had followed her friend’s outrageous announcement. “You have the biggest mouth in the known universe. Melody’s sexual-fantasy list isn’t up for public discussion.”
Tanya. Imposing Tanya, who was nearly yelling with indignation. Gee, what a help. At this rate, she was going to have to kill all three of her best friends, and then what fun would it have been to come back to Savannah?
“Uh, friends of yours?” Nick murmured. He lifted a brow, watching her, his dark eyes glittering under the light from the torches lining the lawn. “You sure know how to pick ’em.”
If he smiled, she was going to take a swing. Fist or knee. One or the other would be flying if he so much as grinned. And God help the man if he laughed. “You are so off my list,” she whispered under her breath, though she knew he heard.
This just couldn’t be happening. She’d come so close to pulling it off. So very close to sticking to her plan to come to the party and prove to Nick Walker that he hadn’t gotten under her skin like a wicked itch she couldn’t reach.
It hadn’t been easy—her first sight of the man had nearly sent her fleeing into the night. But she’d somehow managed to keep from swallowing her tongue at how utterly perfect Nick Walker looked in a dark, well-cut suit, with his jaw cleanly shaved and his dark hair smoothed back.
He’d been funny and flirtatious, sexy and charming, but she’d held it together. During a few unforgettable moments when she’d caught him staring at her with glittering eyes that spoke of hunger, want and sweet desire, she’d succeeded in remaining clothed and upright when her impulse had said to strip and drop.
Maintaining the right level of cordial but cool, accessible but aloof, she’d been certain that by the end of the evening he’d have accepted the fact that the list—and his possible presence on it—was a joke. A complete joke.
Fate, it seemed, had other plans. Good old fate, Rosemary’s excuse for everything. Right now she’d like to take fate and shove it down her best friend’s throat.
“What’s going on out here?”
Speak of the devil.
; Rosemary came barreling down the back steps from the veranda, her heels click-clicking on the stone terrace like teeny little gunshots. Lucky thing for her—and for Paige—that there were no guns within grabbing distance.
“Mel, honey, you’re here,” Rosemary said, her tone bright. “I’m so glad you could make it. Did you sneak in the back way? Come in and say hello to everyone.” Then, beneath her breath, she added, “I heard from the patio. We’ll brazen it out.”
Rosemary probably figured she was the cavalry. Melody instead pictured her as a moving target.
All around she heard whispers, subdued laughs. Some of these people she recognized as friends from the old days, some were even nice enough to not be laughing their asses off at what had happened. But a lot of them were strangers—Rosemary’s set—whom she’d apparently invited to broaden Melody’s social circle.
Hmm…she’d have to ask Rosemary just how that had worked out.
“If you’ll all excuse me,” she murmured, amazed at how steady she sounded when inside she was tied in knots, “I think I’ll go drown myself in the koi pond.”
“I bet it’s not deep enough,” said a low, masculine voice.
Nick. Of course, who else would it be?
“Well, maybe you could stand on me to hold me down,” she responded from between clenched teeth. She kept her chin up and forced herself to ignore the laughs, the winks and the mumbling.
“Jeez, Mel, I’m sorry,” Paige said, apparently realizing what she’d done. Looking sheepish, Paige nibbled her lip as she moved closer. Lowering her voice to a real whisper—about frigging time—she added, “Would it help if I told everyone we all had sex lists? Eddie’s around here somewhere, and he doesn’t know about it, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll do it.”
Eddie, Paige’s reserved, quiet, engineer husband would probably fall over dead if he found out half the intimate details Paige had shared with her friends over the past couple of years.
Melody was tempted for about a second. “Forget it.” Swallowing down a heaping helping of humiliation, she blinked to ensure no stupid tears made it past her lashes. “Hopefully most of these people have had enough to drink that they won’t even remember,” she said, hearing the doubt in her voice.
