He grinned then. “I promise I won’t try to compromise you—at least not until your feelin’ a lot better than you do right now.”
Her head reeling from the now throbbing pain, Mel conceded defeat and dropped her hands. His were both gentle and impersonal as he helped her out of his flannel shirt and dropped the night shirt over her head then pulled what was left of her dress away. Then he helped her to the bathroom and shut the door behind her for privacy. Mel stood clinging to the counter and stared at herself in the mirror.
Not any reason at all to worry about Matt’s intentions tonight, she thought. Not when you look like this.
Her night shirt revealed bruises on her arms and neck where her attacker had man-handled her, and her cheek was turning a sickly yellow color where he had punched her. One eye was a little puffy, too, and she wondered if she would end up with a black eye by morning.
Sighing, Mel took care of business, brushing her teeth, carefully combing out the worst of the tangles in her hair, gently washing her face, and using the necessary. Matt was waiting for her outside, his flannel shirt back in place and buttoned up. He helped her to bed and tucked her in. When she sighed in relief, he reached out to touch her hair, now spread out on the pillow.
“It’s like sunrise on the mountain after the first hard frost,” he said.
Mel smiled. “And you’re a songwriter. This hair has been the bane of my existence ever since I first started school.
“It’s beautiful,” he insisted.
“Thank you.”
He leaned down, kissed her softly on her brow, and turned out the bedside lamp.
“Matt?”
“Yeah?”
She hesitated. “I’m glad you stayed, but…”
“What is it?”
“It’s just that…Well…Do you really only…Shift…when you’re in danger?”
Matt smiled. “We can Shift any time. It’s just that sometimes, when things happen—like tonight—we Shift without thinkin’ about it as the survival instincts just kick in without warnin’.”
“Could you…I mean, would you…Shift…now? Just so I can see you…like that…when you’re not…angry?
Matt’s smile broadened into a grin, which slowly morphed into something more, and before she knew it, he was a great big bear. His coat, like his human hair, was mostly dark brown, though the shades ranged from dark chocolate on his legs and belly to a lighter beaver color on his back and ending with a warm, sandy color on his long snout. His nose was big and black and looked cold and wet.
Mel knew she should be afraid. Good heavens, there was a bear in her bedroom! But somehow she didn’t feel afraid, for the twinkle she had seen in Matt’s golden eyes hadn’t gone away when he’d Shifted into his bear form.
“Thank you,” she whispered, awed by this truly handsome beast.
She heard a low rumbling that she could have sworn was a chuckle, and Matt laid his snout on the edge of her bed, nudging her lightly. Mel smiled sleepily and reached out to gently caress his face. Matt licked her fingers then turned away to head for the hallway. He rose onto his powerful hindquarters at the doorway and moved the light switch with his nose.
“Good night, Matt,” she called softly.
Matt glanced over his shoulder and snuffled.
Mel giggled, and turning onto her side in order to relieve the pressure on the back of her head, she allowed herself to fall asleep.
Mel woke slowly and turned to look at her clock, only to moan when the back of her head connected with the pillow. She tried to lie still, waiting for the pain to pass, but after a time, she heard voices coming from the living room.
“Please tell me I didn’t leave the T.V. running all night,” she grumbled.
Then she registered the tone of those voices and froze.
They’re back!
Throwing aside her blankets, she struggled to a sitting position and waited for the world to stop spinning. It didn’t take as long as she’d expected, and she managed to make it into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her bedroom, pulling a sweater on over the yellow camp shirt she had tucked into a pair of slender jeans.
“Hey there,” Matt said when she appeared in the kitchen.
“Good mornin’,” Luke said, making way for her at the table.
“I hope you don’t mind us borrowin’ your kitchen,” Bart said, as he flipped pancakes in one of her square frying pans.
“Not at all,” she said, surprised to find it was the truth.
“Uncle Bart’s famous for his flapjacks,” John assured her, reaching into her cabinet for another plate on which he placed some crispy bacon before handing the plate to Bart for some pancakes. He set the plate down in front of Mel.
“Uh, I don’t usually eat a big breakfast,” she said.
“Did you even take the time for dinner last night?” Bart asked.
Mel had to think about it. “I guess not.”
“Then eat up, darlin’,” he said. “We got a long day ahead of us, and you need feedin’ up for it.”
Mel couldn’t help but smile—until she noticed the kitchen clock.
“Oh, my God. I am so late.”
She tried to stand up too quickly, though, and Matt grabbed her before she could faint.”
“Easy, darlin’,” he said, carefully lowering her to her chair.
“You don’t understand. I’ll lose my job for sure, if I’m three hours late for work!”
“Now, how can you be goin’ into work, if you’re busy recruitin’ the Konstantine Talent Agency’s newest band?” Mark asked.
Mel looked around at all of them, a flicker of hope sparking as she saw they were serious.
“Do you mean it?” she asked.
“Well, there’re some stipulations that need to be met, before we sign any contract,” Bart said, lifting the last of the pancakes onto a plate and reaching to turn off the burner before joining her at the table with his own breakfast. “We’ve all seen what the ‘country western’ set has become, and the boys aren’t gonna go along with most of it.”
Mel swallowed her bite of pancake and eyed Bart closely.
“What do you mean?”
“He means we don’t hold with all the electronic stuff, flashing lights, pyrotechnics, or any of that crap,” Luke said.
“We play acoustical instruments,” Mark said, “and while we expect to need amplification in a bigger space, we’re not gonna be blastin’ our sound to kingdom come. It’s the music that’s important, and it doesn’t mean anything, if the audience can’t hear the lyrics.”
“Bart handles all our sound and lightin’,” Matt added. “He always has and always will.”
“I see.” Mel took a deep breath and sipped at the cup of tea that had magically appeared at her hand. “I’m not certain Kitty will go for that, but I will certainly do everything I can to make it happen.”
“There’s no choice, Mel,” Matt said. “You saw what can happen when there’s a big ruckus. You start shootin’ fireworks, flashin’ lights and smoke, all that crap, and we not only won’t be able to sing worth a damn, we may not even be able to keep from Shiftin’.”
“Oh.” Mel looked at each of them in turn, felt a jolt as she looked into those deep golden eyes, and realized they were not being difficult. While she had no intention of telling Kitty Konstantine of all people about their natures as Shifters, she knew she had to make her boss believe their way was the best way, the only way.
I can’t believe I have to even consider all this, she thought. Twenty-four hours ago, I’m not sure I even really believed Shifters exited.
Then she turned and looked into Matt’s golden eyes and remembered the way he had Shifted for her last night and took a deep breath.
“Well, then, that’s the way it will be.”
“Don’t worry about Uncle Bart not bein’ up to it,” John said. “He’s had real trainin’ in lights and sound.”
“Went to Las Vegas for it,” Luke added.
&nb
sp; “He’s licensed in Tennessee, too,” Matt said, “so you don’t have to worry that some venue won’t let him handle their equipment.”
“That’s a relief,” Mel said, taking a bit of bacon and pausing to savor the smoky taste of it. Due to her very limited budget, she rarely splurged on things like bacon, and for some reason, it tasted particularly good today.
“Do you think this Kitty woman will go for it?” Bart asked.
Mel thought for a moment. “Do you guys have a CD?”
“Sure,” Matt said. “We got some out in the van.”
“In that case, we just need to be certain we get Kitty to listen to it, before she kicks us all out of her office.”
“It seems to me you’re riskin’ a powerful lot on what you heard the boys do the other night,” Bart said.
Mel took a deep breath. “Perhaps. But if we can’t sell Kitty on their talent, then I’m out of a job, anyway.”
“Would she really fire you?” John asked.
Mel nodded and glanced at the clock. “I haven’t checked in with the office in almost twelve hours, and I’m already three hours late for work this morning, so yes, she’ll fire me—unless I can sell her on what you can do. A new hit is the only thing that’s going to distract her.”
She sipped her tea and refused to meet any of their eyes. Of course, she might just fire me, anyway, she thought, but she wasn’t going to tell the Saints that.
Bart reached out to lay his big hand on hers and give it a gentle squeeze. When she looked up to meet his golden eyes, he smiled.
“I guess keepin’ your job’s just gonna have to be one of the stipulations I mentioned before,” he said, as though reading her thoughts.
Mel raised her eyebrows in surprise and quickly scanned all their faces.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Sure I do,” Bart said. “If you’re not our contact at the Konstantine Talent Agency, then we’ll sign with somebody else.”
“Or not at all,” Matt added. “We’re not lookin’ to get rich. We’re just tryin’ to earn some money to send back home.”
“Don’t need ‘rich’,” Luke added. “Not when we got family.”
Mel smiled. “I’m beginning to really like all of you, Mr. Saint.”
Luke grinned. “That’s good, on account of we’re gettin’ to like you real well, too, Miss Darlin’.”
Mel laughed with them and began to gather up the empty dishes.
“Let the boys take care of that,” Bart said. “You and Matt and me, we need to sit down and plan some strategy.”
“All right.”
They settled in the living room while the three younger Saints cleaned up breakfast. Twenty minutes later, Bart nodded in satisfaction.
“Let’s do it.”
Matt reached out to touch her cheek, and when she looked his way, he smiled.
“You might want to get changed and do somethin’ about that shiner before we leave.”
Mel closed her eyes and suppressed a moan.
“There is no way Kitty isn’t going to notice it.”
“You must have one of those ‘power’ suits,” Bart said. “Dressin’ sharp is the first step to distractin’ anybody.”
“I guess. I don’t suppose all of you could…”
Bart grinned. “Don’t worry. We can clean up when we want to.”
Mel returned his grin and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as she stood and headed for her bedroom, relieved that for the most part, only a headache lingered. She stared at the contents of her closet for a full five minutes before she nodded firmly and reached for her favorite suit. Kitty always insisted her “minions” wear skirts and heels, but with Bart Saint to back her up, Mel decided it was time to make her own mark on the Agency.
She took a quick, very hot shower, dried, then spread an aloe-based lotion all over her body and face. She might not smell like a sexy beauty queen, but her bruises and scrapes certainly felt better for the treatment. Studying herself closely in the mirror, she realized that the bruise on her cheek had not invaded her eye socket, so there was no black eye to cover up. She wasn’t certain if she was relieved or sorry, but decided it was probably a good thing. Standing there in her panties and bra, she did all she could to mask her bruised cheek and get her hair into some semblance of sophistication. Finally satisfied she had done all she could, she reached for her suit.
The charcoal gray pinstripe was just the thing to add classiness and height to her otherwise average build. The suit had slacks rather than a skirt, but the addition of a scarlet silk blouse and black, high-heeled pumps took her from “this is business” to “I have a secret.” She debated letting what she had of cleavage show then decided the bruise on her neck and sternum would ruin the effect, so she buttoned it up to the high collar and added a shimmery, dangling broach that had belonged to her grandmother. For once, her hair was cooperating, and the tone of her blouse gave those wavy locks a deep auburn hue that took her from simple red head to stunning.
One last look in her full-length mirror, and Mel decided she would do—if only she didn’t lose her nerve. The bruise on her cheek wasn’t completely hidden, but she hoped Kitty would be so shocked by the outfit that her boss wouldn’t notice the heavy makeup that didn’t quite conceal it.
“Okay, champ,” she said, squaring her shoulders and taking a fortifying breath. “As Bart said, let’s do it.”
Without another glance at the mirror, Mel picked up her tote and headed for the living room.
The stunned expressions that met her entrance warmed her as nothing else could have done. If she blushed with pleasure, it only added to her appeal. Then she noticed Bart and let out a low whistle herself. His suit was coal black, as was his shirt and tie. Highly buffed dress shoes and sparkling cuff links and tie tack completed his transformation. Mel’s smile spread as she took him in.
“I think Kitty Konstantine will meet her match today,” she said.
“And we’re gonna double-team her,” Bart replied, offering her his arm.
Mel laughed as she took it. “The rest of you look pretty good, too,” she added, looking at each brother in turn. They had changed into clean, pressed jeans, tucked in their plaid flannel shirts and added jackets. They must have brought Matt his suitcase, because he, too, had changed.
“You ready, then?” Matt asked, crossing to her.
“Oh, yeah.”
Matt grinned. “Then let’s go.”
Because Mel’s apartment was located between downtown Nashville and Opryland, they were able to avoid the worst of the Monday mid-day traffic as they headed out. Since it was after noon when they arrived, parking near the front door of the Konstantine Talent Agency wasn’t a problem, as many of those who worked inside were out to lunch. Kitty would still be in, Mel was certain, as she stepped out of her car and waited for Bart to park their van. Her boss never took lunch meetings on Monday, and usually spent the day going over the reports from her minions on what they had “discovered” over the weekend. Mel signed in with the security guard at the front desk and had no trouble taking her “entourage” into the heart of the Agency. They certainly all looked as though they belonged there.
Knox (BBW Bear Shifter Moonshiner Romance) (120 Proof Honey) Page 63
