When Melanie stood, she found herself very close to Zack. “Now?”
“Yes. Unless there’s somewhere else you have to be this afternoon.”
His brown eyes were almost challenging, and she suspected anyone who worked with Zack Morgan needed a backbone. “No. I don’t have any other appointments today. I planned to give your project my full attention.”
He nodded. “Okay. Let’s see what your attention can do for my new workspace.”
As they left the penthouse, Melanie could hear Zack’s daughter jabbering and giggling in the kitchen. She remembered her own daughter’s laughter…her first word…her first tooth…her first step. The memories were less painful now and more bittersweet, yet she knew the missing would never go away, and she hoped the memories would never fade. They were too precious.
Zack’s legs were long, and he covered the distance to the elevator a lot sooner than Melanie did. She suspected he was a man who always knew where he was going and how he wanted to get there.
As they stepped onto the elevator, his elbow brushed hers and her throat went dry. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this affected by a man. Not even by her husband.
The elevator door swished shut.
Zack tried to keep his gaze straight ahead instead of on Melanie as he collected his thoughts and analyzed his reaction to this woman. There was such a pull toward her, it disconcerted him. He hadn’t even looked at women since Sherry died.
Melanie Carlotti’s eyes are blue, like Sherry’s.
Sherry.
He still thought about his wife and the argument they’d had the night of her accident fourteen months ago. It was impossible for him to stop thinking about it. When she died, his world had fallen apart, and he’d been trying to rebuild it ever since—working long hours, feeling restless, spending time with Amy, wishing for the past. Still, when Melanie Carlotti had walked into his office…
He considered how Amy had run to her. Flo had been right about Amy never going to strangers. She was usually shy with anyone she didn’t know.
When the elevator door opened onto the fourth floor, Melanie stepped out. He couldn’t keep himself from studying her as she walked to the reception area.
There was something about her that made his heart pound and his blood surge. He usually appreciated long hair on women, but Melanie’s short, layered light brown hair had a slight wave that framed her face so naturally. The sunlight shining through the plate-glass windows caught blond strands. Her pearl earrings matched the buttons on her dress. He was glad to see she wasn’t wearing high heels. The low pumps were stylish and more suitable for touring offices that weren’t yet finished.
Zack led her through the fourth floor amid workmen who were spackling drywall, and her light perfume teased him. When they paused in the area that would be his office suite, he felt as if he were awakening from a long sleep, noticing curves on a woman again—the curves on Melanie Carlotti.
She gazed out the windows, admiring the view, the mountains in the distance. The late-October sunlight danced off the redwoods, oaks whose leaves were turning yellow and the madrones with their reddish bark. “It’s beautiful here,” she said softly.
Crossing to the window, he stood beside her. “That’s why I built here. I wanted to get out of the city.”
“I don’t blame you.” Her gaze went to the mountains again. “Just being able to look out at all of this would make coming to work a pleasure.”
They were standing close, and he could sense she really understood why he’d moved his headquarters. He noticed that she wore lipstick but no other makeup. Her skin looked so very soft.
He found himself confiding, “I have to remind myself often that there’s a blue sky out there, mountain peaks and more to my life than work.”
Melanie faced him then, and he had the feeling she was absorbing not only the surroundings but everything he said and how he said it.
“I imagine your daughter helps to do that, too.”
“She’s one of the reasons I work so hard. I think about her while I’m working. That’s why eventually I’d like to add a day care center here. If my staff can have their kids on-site, they won’t worry so much about them.”
“That’s a great idea,” Melanie murmured, but then she glanced outside again. Before she did, he saw so much emotion in her blue eyes that he wondered what it was all about. As she moved away from the windows, he thought maybe he’d imagined it.
A half hour later they’d toured all four floors and stood in what would be the main lobby of the building. Zack looked at her expectantly as she admired the vaulted ceiling with its skylight. “Ideas?”
She took a deep breath. “I’d use Australian pine flooring in your office suite along with specialty rugs, carpet in all the reception areas, parquet in the executive office suites.” Motioning to the view through the windows, she added, “I’d try to bring the outside in. If you wait here, I’ll show you exactly what I have in mind.”
Before he could blink, she was gone.
A few minutes later when she came through the revolving front door, her arms were stacked with three huge sample books. He hurried to help her.
As soon as she was through the door, he reached out to take the books from her. The back of his hand brushed her waist and the underside of her breast. As he took the heavy books into his arms, a jolt of electric arousal ran through him. When his gaze collided with hers, her cheeks grew very pink.
“Let’s put them over on the sawhorses,” she murmured, and the lightning moment of awareness faded but didn’t vanish.
Bending over the stack of books, she quickly opened the top one and leafed through it. He was looking over her shoulder, and with every breath he inhaled her delicate perfume. Leaving the book open, she pulled the second one out from under it and paged through that one, finally showing him wallpaper and fabric samples in teal, blue and tan.
“I’d build around these.” When she glanced at him, her face was very near his. For a moment she seemed to lose her train of thought, but then she took a breath and quickly continued, “I’d use camel leather, hunter-green accessories, off-white to accent. We could go with a theme color for each floor and tie them all together in your reception area.”
He found himself fascinated by this woman, who seemed chock-full of energy and ideas, as well as confidence.
But before he could respond to her suggestions, his cell phone rang. Taking it from his belt he said, “Excuse me. I’m expecting a call from one of my store managers.” When he stepped away from her, he attempted to give his full attention to the call.
Closing the sample books, Melanie felt her heart pound as she waited for Zack to finish his conversation. Had she made a good impression? Were her ideas what he wanted?
A few minutes later he looked troubled as he closed the cell phone and hooked it onto his belt. “I have to leave.”
She didn’t want the interview to end like this without any resolution. “Do you want me to meet you back here again later?”
“No.”
From the tone of Zachary Morgan’s voice, Melanie was afraid she’d read him wrong. If she didn’t get this job, how was she going to—
“You obviously know what you’re doing,” Zack said. “And I can tell that you have a feel for what I want to do here. The truth is, I’m on a tight schedule. Our grand opening isn’t until January second, but I need the offices finished before Christmas. You’ve got the job if you want it. If you come back here tomorrow morning, you can sign your contract and get started.”
Melanie was speechless for a good two seconds, then she recovered. “That’s wonderful!” Her enthusiasm covered much more than simply the job offer. “I can’t wait to start.”
His gaze studied her appraisingly. “Those medical problems you spoke of. Are you sure you’re recovered? These deadlines are important, and if there’s any chance you can’t finish the work…” He looked concerned. “That would put me in a real bind.”
“I’m
fine. Really,” she assured him. “Nothing will keep me from working and finishing the job.”
“All right, then. Now about the salary.” He named a wage that was more than fair.
“That sounds just right.” She’d already decided any salary would do if it enabled her to get the answers she needed.
“It’s a deal, then,” he said with a smile, extending his hand.
When she placed her hand in Zack’s, there was that electric contact again—an awareness that she was a woman and he was a man. Then, suddenly, a barrier went up in Zachary Morgan’s eyes.
He released her and stepped away. “I’ll carry these out to your car for you.”
As Zack stacked the books, easily gathered them up and strode to the revolving door, Melanie followed him, overjoyed she’d gotten the job but nervous about what came next.
At her car he asked, “Back seat or trunk?”
“Trunk,” she answered, unlocking it with her key.
When it popped open, he set the books on top of other catalogs and samples that were stacked alongside her folded drafting table. “You came prepared.”
“It’s not unusual for a client to ask for preliminary ideas.”
After he closed the trunk, they stood there for a moment under the autumn sun, a slight breeze ruffling their hair. Neither of them seemed to have anything to say, yet they both seemed reluctant to end the interview.
Finally Zack asked, “Can you be here at 9:00 a.m.?”
She nodded, and then she used her remote to unlock the car door. So many feelings were bubbling inside of her, and she didn’t know what any of them meant. Underneath all of them was a sense of something unfinished, something important. A goal she had to reach. First she had to find out what it was.
Zack walked with her and opened the driver’s door. As he stood towering above her, the urge to touch him was so strong she had to curl her fingers into her palm. He seemed to lean closer for just a moment. She looked at his lips and wondered what a kiss from him would be like. Then he straightened.
She gave herself a mental shake and slid into the bucket seat.
His hand rested on the car door. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
She nodded, tore her gaze reluctantly from his and inserted the key into the ignition. He closed her door.
When she drove out of the parking lot of Sports & More, Inc., she glanced into her rearview mirror. Zachary Morgan was staring after her. The thought made her nervous and excited at the same time, and she wished tomorrow morning wasn’t so far away.
As Melanie typed up preliminary plans for Zack Morgan’s offices on her laptop computer in the motel room that evening, she was suddenly uncertain about accepting Zack’s job offer. When he found out why she was really here, would he feel betrayed? Would he feel as if she’d duped him somehow?
Yet she didn’t know what she could do differently. This job was a wonderful opportunity to find out what type of woman Sherry Morgan had been and why she seemed to be calling to her…to have something to say that Melanie couldn’t decipher.
She had no doubts that if she told Zack why she was actually here, he’d want nothing to do with her.
Still in turmoil, in spite of her reasoning and her decision to go forward with her plan, she became aware of cars pulling up outside. Voices. Trunks opening and closing. The motel only had fifteen rooms, and parking spaces were right outside the doors. There was a restaurant and bar across the street where she’d bought herself a salad and a sandwich. But as she’d sat at the small Formica table, she’d worked on notes and had left half of the sandwich uneaten.
Now comfortably settled against the headboard of the bed, she adjusted her reading glasses and concentrated on the notes she’d made. Dusk was dimming to darkness, and she turned on the bedside lamp so she could see more clearly.
Around ten o’clock she heard a commotion outside and glanced out the window. A group of men, at least twenty of them, had crossed the street to the motel, laughing, talking and clapping each other on the back. Under the parking lot light she could tell that a few of them weren’t too steady on their feet, and she suspected they’d been drinking. Going over to her door, she attached the chain lock and then closed the draperies.
The men grew rowdier. She heard someone outside her door ask, “I wonder who’s holed up in here? Maybe they’d like to come out and join the party.” There was a sharp banging on her door. Anxiety gripped the pit of Melanie’s stomach.
When the banging started again, she wasn’t sure what to do. She was relieved when she heard a second man’s voice say, “Come on, Chet. Let’s go have some beer and watch TV.”
Their voices became a low rumble as motel doors opened and shut.
But a half hour later, Melanie could hardly think because the TV in the room next door was blasting so loud. Once more she heard men’s voices outside. Not just two, but three or four or five. She couldn’t make out exactly what was going on, but there was swearing and the sound of something heavy banging on metal. She saved the work she’d finished on her computer just as a loud thump sounded—as if someone had been thrown against her door. After a few shouts, a six-pack came crashing through her window, shattering the glass.
The sound of the breaking glass made her freeze, and memories of the night of the fire flooded her mind. She began trembling as all of it played through her head vividly…harshly…indelibly—the knock on her neighbor’s door where Melanie was attending a Christmas party, the mad dash to her own house, the smoke seeping from under the eaves, the flash of fire in the living room. She’d grasped the hot doorknob. Her world exploded, glass shattering everywhere….
She was caught up in all of it again until sirens pulled her back into the present. Suddenly flashing lights appeared in the parking lot, and Melanie heard the sound of authoritative voices.
She hardly had time to slide her computer onto the bed before there was a knock at her door. “Miss?” a deep voice called. “It’s the police. I’ve got the manager with me. Are you all right?”
Fortunately, she’d been sitting on the bed tucked into the corner by the wall. Slipping off her glasses and sidestepping the shattered glass, she crossed to the door and opened it with the chain lock still attached. She could see the blue-uniformed officer, and he was holding up his badge.
Her hands were shaking as she unfastened the lock and pulled the door open.
The officer gave her a quick, thorough appraisal. “Any of that glass hit you?”
“No, I’m fine.” At least she would be fine if she could stop shaking.
“You’re Melanie Carlotti?”
The manager must have given the officer her name. “Yes. What happened?”
“A group of good ol’ boys decided to attend the festival at Clear Lake without their wives. It turns out they obviously don’t know how to behave without them. They’ve battered up a few of the rooms as well as each other. We’re taking them in, although the ones who aren’t in trouble are still staying here tonight. The problem is—you can’t stay in this room, and nothing else is available.”
She glanced at the broken window. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“Unfortunately, motels around here are pretty booked up. You’ll either have to go up ahead about an hour or back to Santa Rosa.”
She didn’t know her way around Santa Rosa. She’d only ever passed through the town. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was almost eleven. She had a nine-o’clock appointment with Zachary Morgan. Maybe the best thing to do was to call him and let him know she had to change locations. Maybe he could recommend a place to stay and how to get there.
“I need to make a phone call, Officer.”
“Go ahead. I’m going to be putting the fear of God into the fellows who are staying here tonight. Take your time.”
Crossing to the phone, she sat on the bed and pulled out the sheet of stationery that had detailed the time and place of her interview today. The phone number was on the letterhead. If it was the phone num
ber for Zack Morgan’s offices…All she could do was try. She dialed quickly and hoped for at least an answering machine.
Instead of an answering machine, a deep male voice answered. “Morgan here.”
“Mr. Morgan. It’s Melanie Carlotti. I’m sorry to be calling you so late.”
“No problem. I’m still working. What can I do for you?”
She hesitated, then explained, “I need to relocate. I can’t stay in the motel at Cool Ridge tonight. There was a brawl, and the police are here.”
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, but the window to my room was shattered, and—”
“You’re sure you’re all right?” he asked again, sounding concerned.
“Yes. Really. The reason I’m calling…I’m not familiar with Santa Rosa. Can you recommend a place to stay? Maybe even a guest house, rather than a motel.”
There was silence on the other end of the line until Zack decided, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go driving around yourself at this time of night.”
“Oh, I don’t mind that. It would just be helpful if I knew where I was going.”
Again a pensive silence. Finally he said, “It would be even more helpful if you knew you were safe for the night. Why don’t you come and stay at my penthouse?”
Melanie stared at the phone in stunned silence.
Stay at Zachary Morgan’s penthouse? The idea intrigued her as well as scared her. From her investigator’s report, from her own sense of the man, she believed Zack Morgan had integrity and she’d be safe with him. Spending the night with him could create an atmosphere where she could get closer to him.
Is that truly what she wanted?
Chapter Two
“Melanie?” Zack Morgan asked.
“I’m here.” Her mind was spinning with all the possibilities of getting to know him better. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You won’t be. Mrs. Briggs has the guest room made up. It’s in the wing with her quarters, on the other side of the penthouse from mine, so if you’re worried about impropriety, don’t be. She’s an adequate chaperone.”
A Husband In Her Eyes Page 2
