The woman eyed them with distaste before heading behind the counter to neatly fold an array of angora sweaters.
Kay gripped Melanie’s arm and pulled her to a rack hanging nearest the entrance. “Now let’s find you the perfect outfit.”
An hour later, after trying on seven different dresses, Melanie chose a flirty aqua-colored number with a halter-top and full, swingy skirt that flounced about when she walked. Sexy yet understated. Perfect for meeting his family.
They left the shop and walked down the street to have lunch at O’Malley’s. The last time they had lunch there, Mel had left smiling from ear to ear. Embarrassing to think about now. Knox’s jaw had practically dropped to the floor at her hose comment.
A lot had changed since that day. Her art show had been a success, and she’d fallen in love with the most amazing man. The only thing that could possibly make life better was if she were cleared of this arson.
“Mel.” The voice behind her sent a chill skittering up her spine.
Please don’t let it be…
“Melanie,” he called again. Nope. No mistaking the voice. It was Dean. The only bright side to the encounter was that Kay was with her. This way if things went south, Kay could intervene.
Melanie turned, her skin prickling from the look he gave her. His eyes were dark, almost menacing.
“Have you been talking to Manning about the fire?”
What the…? Had he expected her to hang herself? “I had no choice. Apparently your wife accused me of setting it.”
“So what did you tell him?”
Melanie’s gut instinct told her to stay calm. “Nothing. I don’t know anything,” she lied. No way was she going to spill her guts to him about what she knew or didn’t know about the blaze. Trusting him once had been a mistake, doing it again would be suicide.
“You’re looking good.” He reached out to touch her arm. Melanie moved in time to avoid the contact. Just standing next to him made her sick, no way was she going to let him touch her. Her skin crawled at the thought.
“I’m sorry about everything, Mel. I had no idea Manning would finger you.”
“Grainger, why don’t you get lost,” Kay interrupted. “Can’t you see she doesn’t want to talk to you?”
“Stay out of this, Kay. If it weren’t for you…” He shook his head. “Forget it. Melanie, I’ll talk to you later.” He retreated to the other side of the street to where his car was parked.
Melanie took a much-needed breath. Since their encounter at the warehouse, the man scared her to death. He was one of those obsessive people who didn’t take no easily and she’d do well to avoid him. “I’m glad you were here,” she said to Kay, hugging her tightly. “I don’t know what he’d have done if I were alone.”
“If you’re that afraid of him, get an order of protection against him.”
Melanie grimaced. “Those things don’t work. They can actually make the situation more volatile. I don’t want that. I’m just going to have to steer clear of him and hope Tracy keeps him on a short leash.”
“Yeah, and maybe neuter him while she’s at it.”
Melanie laughed. That would definitely keep him down awhile. Too bad they didn’t do that to men who strayed. It’d cure the infidelity rate and in turn make the world a much safer place for women.
* * *
Knox parked in front of his mother’s home and killed the engine. He glanced at Melanie, who fidgeted like a thoroughbred with its first racing saddle. The moment she’d opened her apartment door, he’d seen the look of sheer terror on her face at the prospect of meeting his family, though it had been hard to concentrate on anything other than how gorgeous she looked in her dress. The woman had the best legs he’d even seen. Perfectly shaped. Long enough to wrap around him good and tight.
The thought caused him discomfort. They could always skip the trip to his mother’s and spend the evening having marathon sex instead.
Not going would definitely make Melanie happier, yet she was a part of his life now. He wanted her and his mother to get to know each other.
“Come on. I promise my mom won’t bite.” He gripped the door handle. Melanie reached across to stop him, the deep lines etched on her forehead giving away her nervousness.
“Are you sure we’re ready for this?” Her powder blue eyes searched his. “I mean, how about we wait a few weeks?”
Knox pulled her into his arms and whispered, “Mel, honey. If I love you, Mom will too. So stop worrying.”
“O…kay,” she said, her voice quivering. It really mattered to her what his mother thought of her and the sentiment touched Knox’s heart. Sandra wouldn’t have given a moment’s thought to that. She was too into herself to care what other’s felt. There was no doubt that Sandra and Melanie were two very different women. He knew his mother would like Melanie because of who she was and he wished there was something he could do to relieve her concerns on that matter.
He got out of the truck and came around to open Melanie’s door. He smiled and grasped her hand. She returned a wary half-smile.
Hopefully, once the initial introductions were over, she’d relax. Both his Mom and Tara would see how wonderful she was, know why he’d fallen in love, and accept her as a member of their family. Because once he worked up enough nerve, he’d ask Melanie to be his wife.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Melanie unlocked the front door to her house, nervous, yet excited about spending the night with Knox again. After the confrontation with Sandra at his apartment, they thought it best to go to Melanie’s for the night. Neither wanted any interruptions.
She wanted to be alone with him, to reexperience the mind-blowing passion they’d shared in each other’s arms.
They entered the house and Melanie locked the door behind them. Nothing was going to ruin their night.
Meeting his mother had been nerve-wracking to say the least. No way would she have gotten through it if not for Knox being at her side. Carol Manning’s gaze had the intensity of a hawk, staring her down, no doubt assessing the type of person Melanie was. She hoped she’d passed the woman’s scrutiny.
Knox’s sister, Tara, had been another story all together—warm and friendly, no searching looks or probing questions. The woman had made Melanie welcome from the moment she stepped into the house. Given time, Melanie knew they’d become good friends. Though she’d sensed a little tension between Knox and his sister and wondered about it.
“Are you hungry?” she asked him once they stood in her living room.
He leaned in and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “I could eat.”
“Okay. I’ll warn you now, I’m not very talented in the kitchen.”
“I can live with that.” He glanced around him, his gaze landing on the covered painting on her easel. “What are you working on? Can I see?” He strolled over to the stand and started to lift the canvas.
“No,” she screeched, racing to stop him.
Too late. He flipped the cloth up and stared at the painting.
Seconds passed.
The look he gave her made Melanie swallow convulsively.
“How did you…”
Shame warmed her face. What would he think about her painting his portrait? She tried to cover it. He stopped her.
“It’s terrific, Mel. How do you paint without the subject sitting for you?”
She shrugged. “I’ve always worked from memory.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I love it.”
“I’m glad. Let’s hope the meal I fix is as well received.” Melanie grimaced for effect.
He laughed and allowed her to tug him toward the kitchen.
“Hopefully there’s something edible in the house. I haven’t been grocery shopping in days.”
Once in the kitchen, Melanie opened the refrigerator and looked inside. She sighed at its paltry content of eggs, cheese and a loaf of bread.
She glanced at Knox. “How do you feel about an omelet?”
He shrugged. “W
hatever is easy, Mel. I’m not picky.”
She smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”
She took the carton of eggs out and went to find a mixing bowl.
As she cracked eggs, Knox came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He nibbled on her ear and stirred up a hornet’s nest in her stomach. Only his touch made her weak-kneed and melting into a puddle of desire.
“Have I told you how much I love the way you smell? How soft your skin is? How you make it impossible for me to stay away from you?” Each word vibrated against her earlobe, sending a current of electricity rocketing through her body. Any restraint she held on to until this point slipped away. She wanted him, buried deep inside her, any thought other than making love to him pushed to the side.
Melanie turned in his arms, sure her intent was clear in her gaze. “Why don’t I put the eggs back in the fridge and we can eat later?”
He kissed her soundly. “Sounds good.”
Out of the blue, a conversation she and Kay had had popped into her head. Men liked to role-play and do different things in bed. “Want to be adventurous?” she asked.
He grinned. “What did you have in mind?”
“How about something with an artistic flare?”
He looked confused, yet interested. No telling what was running through his mind.
“Have you seen the movie Ghost?”
He shook his head. “I must have missed that flick.”
“That’s too bad. We’ll have to rent it some time. Anyway, in the film the female lead is into pottery, has a wheel and is practicing on a bowl, wet clay working through her fingers. The male lead sits down behind her…and the rest you can imagine.” She pulled him toward the living room, her heart thudding in her chest. “I thought instead of using clay, we could use finger-paints.”
His eyes narrowed, then sparkled like a beveled-cut emerald. “I’ll give it a try. But don’t expect a master piece.”
Melanie caught the emphasis on piece and decided to have fun with his word play. “Did you know that there is a rhythm and motion to painting? That is what I want to teach you.”
He grinned devilishly. “I’m up for that.”
Her hand slid down to lightly cup his crotch. “I have to say you have great form.” Her eyes widened with delight.
“Can I paint you? Naked?” he asked, brushing his knuckles across her breast, her nipple tightening in response.
She sighed. “You think you’re ready for that?”
“It’d give me inspiration.”
Melanie smiled as she reached around her neck to untie the halter-top. She let it drop. His shirt was the next to go, along the rest of her dress. Soon they stood naked, staring at each other.
Melanie picked a paintbrush off her easel and handed it to him. “Now, your first lesson. Soft, slow, feathery strokes are best.”
His gaze traveled over her boldly, lingering on her breasts. The intimate appraisal made her nipples draw up even more.
“Do I focus on the tip?” he asked, grazing the end of the paintbrush with his thumb, his gaze never leaving her breasts. “Or make use of the whole thing?”
Melanie swallowed hard. This game was getting harder to play. All she wanted was to get down to business. Make mad, crazy love to Knox. “For concentrated purposes, the tip works best.”
“Care to show me what you mean?”
Nothing would thrill her more. She moved closer, inhaling his fresh, spicy scent. “I forgot,” she said, pulling the paintbrush out of his hand and tossing it behind her. “We were going to use our hands.” She pulled his head down to her breast.
Without hesitation, he drew the nipple into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue. Melanie threw her head back and reveled in his expertise—sensations that made her body tingle with anticipation for what was to come.
Tremors of desire gripped her belly as he worked his way down her stomach, his hands cradling her hips as his warm tongue stole its way inside her heat. Fiery need consumed her as he worked his magic. She thought she’d lose her mind, knew she could take no more when his tongue left her swollen folds and moved up her body again, leaving her yearning for his hard cock in its place.
Knox needed her so badly it hurt. Melanie’s soft moans of pleasure drove him to the edge. She was close to orgasm, but he wanted to prolong the sweet torture until they came together, be one with their release.
He worked his way up her body, picked her up and carried her to the sofa, where he placed her down gently, covering her body with his. The heat of her body drove him wild. He kissed her. Her mouth opened to invite his tongue to play with his as his hands glided over her breasts. No woman had ever stirred him so completely, hardening him to steel against her belly. He needed to pace himself or he’d explode the minute he entered her, leave her unfulfilled, the last thing he wanted. Loving Melanie drove him to please her in every way, made him selfless when it came to her needs.
“Now, Knox. I want you now.”
To show her intent, she encircled his erection, drawing him to her sex, arching up to offer herself to him. Knox hesitated only a second before driving deep inside her, a groan of satisfaction his reward for filling her.
He thrust hard and fast until she spasmed around him, spurring on his powerful release, leaving him exhausted and satisfied.
When his breathing slowed, Knox shifted his weight and looked into Melanie’s eyes, blue pools that shook him to the core.
He truly loved this woman, knew he didn’t want to be without her from now on.
She smiled, and brushed a stray strand of hair away from his forehead. “I love you, Knox.”
The confession was music to his ears. “I love you, too.”
“What are we going to do?”
“About what?”
“About finding out who set the fire at Dean’s. Before we can make any plans for our future, I need this to be behind me.”
Knox took a weary breath. She was right. Before he asked her to become his wife, the arson case had to be closed. They had to nail the person who started the fire. Only then could they think about beginning a life together. She knew that. He knew that. Now all they had to do was to figure a way to flush this arsonist out into the open and get the person to confess to the crime.
“I don’t know yet, Mel. I promise you, I’ll think of something.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
A persistent, annoying ringing of the doorbell woke Melanie. She turned to find Knox lying next to her, naked and asleep. Her gaze moved down his body and up again. The man was hotter than a comet hitting the atmosphere.
When the bell rang again, his eyelashes fluttered. She tried to ease over him to get off the sofa. His hands snaked around her and held her in place.
“Where do you think you're going?” he asked in a husky voice. His tone sent a tingle up her spine and made her forget about the doorbell. His body stirred beneath hers, igniting her own passion.
Would she ever get enough of him? Every touch or brush of his body sent her hormones raging like a brushfire in dry season.
It was hard to believe she’d actually told him how she felt. Her confessed love for him. It was a first. She had thought she’d loved Jason all those years ago, though she’d never told him so. Knox was the only man who’d brought out that urge, the only one she’d trusted. A crucial element when building a relationship.
Her mother had never gained any man’s trust, or trusted one in return. Melanie’d had no example of that growing up. But, she knew what she felt for Knox was real—a love that could withstand the pressures of day-to-day life.
Hell, they’d already made it through a number of obstacles, including his ex-girlfriend’s imaginary pregnancy and Knox thinking she’d started the fire. Two huge hurdles they’d worked through that only strengthened their bond for each other. As far as Melanie was concerned, there was nothing they wouldn’t be able to work through together.
The bell rang again. Pounding started seconds later, lou
d and insistent. Was this déjà vu or what? Like the last morning they were together. Sandra at the door? No. Not after what Knox had told her. Melanie didn’t think Sandra would have the nerve to show her face for months to come.
She sighed and looked at Knox…and saw the same disappointment at being interrupted mirrored his eyes. “I’d better get that. Care if I throw on your shirt?”
“Not at all. I'll bet you look a hell of a lot better in it.”
She ran her hands lightly over his chest and then crawled over him to where his shirt was draped over her easel.
“Hurry back,” he said, smiling.
Melanie donned the shirt on her way down the hall.
She unlocked the door and eased it open to find Kay standing on the porch, her eyes red.
“What’s the matter?” Melanie asked. “Did something bad happen?”
Kay sniffed, nodding. “Can I come in?” Her voice was weak and Melanie’s heart went out to her. She’d never seen her best friend this upset.
“Yes, of course.” She opened the door further and stepped back.
Kay headed straight for the living room where Knox lay, naked. “Kay,” she called, slamming the door and racing after her. Her only hope was that Knox had found something to cover himself with.
Entering the room, she found Kay staring at him. Knox sat up on the sofa, an accent pillow strategically placed over his package. He looked at her, his eyes pleading for help.
“I guess I came at a good time,” Kay said, one of her eyebrows arching. “My, oh my, you’re a big man.”
“Mel, could you get me my pants and ask your friend to turn around so I can put them on?” Knox asked. From his tone, he didn’t like being ogled by Kay.
“Kay.” Melanie gestured for her to turn around. “Why don’t you and I go to the kitchen and make some coffee? You can tell me what’s upset you.”
“Actually, not getting to stare at your man irks me a little. “
Knox growled at her comment.
Kay laughed. She followed Melanie to the kitchen.
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