by Metsy Hingle
“The body language?”
“Uh hmm. When Chase declined the offer for tea and said he wanted water instead. You passed him your glass.”
“So?”
“So a few minutes later he was talking about the progression of the conference center addition.”
“Yes. He told you Paul was doing a great job.”
“Right. And he handed you back the water glass, and you drank from that same glass,” Chloe informed her.
“And that made you come to the conclusion that we were lovers? Because I drank from the same glass he did?” Madeline asked, astonished by her friend’s logic.
Chloe grinned again, evidently quite pleased with her deductive abilities. “It’s called intimacy, Maddie. It’s something lovers do. They drink from the same glass. Eat from each other’s plates. It’s there between you and Chase.”
So much for discretion, Madeline concluded, groaning. How often had they done things just like that without conscious thought? And how many other people had noticed just as Chloe had?
“Hey, it’s nothing to be upset about,” Chloe consolingly. “Personally, I think it’s great. It’s about time you settled down and got busy working on some little playmates for your goddaughter.”
“Playmates? What are you talking about?”
Her friend gave her a puzzled frown. “Why I’m talking about you and Chase, of course. You know, the two of you getting married, starting a family.”
“For heaven’s sake, Chloe. This is the nineties. Just because two people are sleeping together doesn’t mean they have to get married. Chase and I are having an affair. That’s all.”
Chloe leaned forward, her eyes dark, somber and filled with that disgusting knowledge that came with being a lifelong friend who knew everything about you. “This may be the nineties, but you’re still the same girl you’ve always been, Madeline Claire Charbonnet. You’re the same girl who agonized over going to bed with Bradley and didn’t, even when you were engaged to him, because you knew in your heart you didn’t love him. If you’re sleeping with Chase McAllister, it’s because you’re in love with him.”
The words stung, bringing home the reality of the neat little corner she had painted herself into. She was in love with her lover, embroiled in an affair with a man who wanted her body, but not her heart. In love with a man who had made it clear at the outset that he wanted no strings and promised no future. “I am,” Madeline admitted.
“So what’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure how he feels about me. I know he wants me physically and he seems to care about me, but after the conference center addition is completed next month, he’ll be going back to New Jersey.”
“Has he said anything about the future?” Chloe asked.
“No. He’s seemed on edge lately. At first I thought it was because of my father. The two of them really don’t see eye to eye on things. But the last couple of times I tried to talk to him about the renovations nearing completion or the construction winding down, he cut me off. Last week when I asked when he thought he’d be leaving, he told me when his job was finished and stormed out of my place.”
“Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to go, but doesn’t know how to tell you he wants to stay.”
“You think so?” Madeline asked, hope fluttering anew inside her.
“I don’t see why not. Have you told him how you feel? That you want him to stay?”
Madeline shook her head. “We agreed to an affair with no strings. That’s why we’ve tried to be discreet. So there wouldn’t be any explanations needed when things ended.” Madeline paused. “But maybe it’s time I let Chase know I’ve changed my mind.”
“Thatta girl.”
And she would start right now, Madeline decided smiling. Instead of dinner at some out of the way restaurant that ended back at her place this Friday, she would ask Chase to accompany her to the Wine Society’s Annual Dinner. It would mark their first public appearance together as a couple. And when the evening was over and they returned to her house, she would confess she loved him.
Excitement bubbled inside her. Rising, Madeline went around the table and gave Chloe a hug. “Thanks a million, pal. I’ve got to run.”
“But what about lunch? You’re buying, remember?”
Madeline laughed. “Put it on my tab. There’s a certain fellow that I’ve got to find and ask for a date.”
Chase shifted the box of roses he was holding to his other arm and fished out the key that Madeline had given him to her house. He hesitated a moment, then slipped the key back into his pocket. Tonight was an official date, not a lovers’ assignation. And it marked the first time they would venture out as a couple to an event where they would encounter Madeline’s friends and peers. Satisfaction shot through him with the speed of a bullet at the unspoken declaration their arriving at the dinner together would make. It was chauvinistic, Chase admitted as he rang the doorbell, but he wanted every man there to know that she belonged to him.
As he waited for Madeline to respond, Chase pondered yet again what she was up to. Because she was up to something, he decided, recalling the glow in those expressive eyes when she had asked him to accompany her to the Wine Society’s Annual Dinner. Would those eyes burn an even hotter green when he told her he had recommended her for the assistant GM position at the hotel?
“Chase.” Madeline said his name with surprise as she opened the door to him. “Did you forget your key?” she asked, her voice a breathless whisper that put his body on immediate alert.
His heart stopped for a full beat. The excuse for a dress that she was wearing, a red slip of a thing held together with rhinestone straps and defining every one of her curves, turned up the heat. He eased a finger under the collar of his tux shirt and wished he could ease the tightness in his lower body as easily. “No,” Chase nearly choked on the word. “I thought maybe you’d prefer not having me barge in on you tonight.”
“I like it when you barge in on me.” She kissed his mouth, a slow innocent brush of her lips that had desire licking through him like flames.
He had desired a woman before, Chase admitted, as he stepped inside and handed her the box of roses. No matter how intense, that desire had always been quickly sated and just as quickly forgotten. Except with Madeline. No matter how many times he made love to her, no matter how many times he quenched his insatiable thirst for her, it wasn’t enough. He wanted her again. He wanted her now.
“Oh, Chase, they’re lovely.” The sweet scent swirled in the air, wrapping her in its sweetness, tangling him more deeply in her spell. Removing the long stems from the bed of tissue, Madeline lifted the red blooms to her face and breathed deeply.
Something curled inside Chase’s chest as he watched her. He remembered the first time he had seen her and likened her to the expensive flower. She was beautiful, intoxicating, all velvet softness—just like the roses she held. He wanted to crush her to him, lose himself in that softness. And because he wanted it so badly, he refused to allow himself to touch her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Chase took the mouth she offered, forcing himself to kiss her gently when he wanted to plunder, giving when he wanted to take. He didn’t want to want her this badly. He hated feeling a victim to this need for her. When she pressed her hands against his chest and withdrew from the kiss, he released her. His heart hammered in his chest. His body trembled with need. She was every bit as exquisite as the roses she now fondled. And her effect on him was just as dangerous, just as deadly as the thorns that lined the stems of those beauties.
“I’d better put these in water and finish getting dressed,” she murmured. “My father is expecting us.”
The mention of Henri’s name had the effect of a dousing in the Mississippi River, and it was even less appealing. He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she filled a vase with water. “I didn’t realize we’d be seeing your father.” Although he should have, Chase realized. From what Madeline had told him,
the Wine Society was a group of elite individuals, primarily hoteliers and restaurateurs, who celebrated and shared their appreciation of fine wines.
“My father’s been a member of the society for years. He never misses the dinner. He’s reserved an entire table for tonight’s affair. When I told him that we would be attending, he insisted we sit with him. You don’t really mind, do you?”
He did mind, but it was too late to do anything about it. “Does he know you’re coming with me?” Chase asked, unable to keep the defiant note out of his voice.
Madeline looked up from the flowers she had been arranging. “I told him you and I would be there together and that it wasn’t business. He seemed fine about it, Chase. Re ally. Besides, he seemed preoccupied. I think he’s got some sort of surprise planned. He said he had a special announcement to make at the dinner, and he wanted us both to be there.”
A special announcement, Chase mused. He didn’t like the sound of that. He didn’t trust it, either. Had Charbonnet somehow managed to put together the money he would need to cover his share of the expenses for the conference center addition? Although he had been told up front when he had agreed to the expansion plans that, as part owner, he would need to come up with the money, the other man had seemed unconcerned. It certainly hadn’t hampered his spending habits. And as far as Chase could tell, the fellow had continued to go through money at a rapid pace. While he might still have some of the proceeds left from his sale to Majestic, it wouldn’t be enough.
Madeline chuckled as she inserted another stem. “Who knows with my father? Maybe they’ve elected him as the new president of the Wine Society. He would certainly love that. Whatever it is, he’s excited about it. He was like a child on Christmas morning.”
Chase frowned. He had waited and worked too long to exact his revenge on Charbonnet to see it slip away now. Not when he was so close.
“What do you think?”
Chase pulled his thoughts back to the present. He looked at Madeline’s face. Something twisted inside him at the look in her eyes. A man could search a lifetime and never have a woman look at him like that. With that mixture of affection and warmth, that kick of desire and greed.
“Chase?”
Suddenly he lost all enthusiasm for going to the dinner. He didn’t want to think about her father, about his promise for revenge. He wanted to make love to Madeline, to soothe this insatiable craving to feel her beneath him. He wanted to free his body and soul of this…this need for her and to have her look at him that way a while longer. “Beautiful,” Chase finally managed to say. “They’re almost as beautiful as you.”
“My, you’re quite the flatterer tonight, Mr. McAllister. Almost poetic. Must be the tux.”
Chase grinned at her teasing. “Could be. My guess is it’s the woman. You inspire all sorts of things in me, Princess. The least of which is poetry.”
Her face heated, sending a delicate flush to her cheeks. “Well, why don’t you work on the poetry while I finish getting dressed.”
“I have a better idea,” Chase said, reaching for her. He tugged her against him and pressed his mouth to her neck. Her breath made that hitching sound, and desire whipped through him. He slid the rhinestone strap down one shoulder, traced the bare skin with his tongue. Madeline shivered. So did he. “What do you say I help you get undressed and then we spend the evening here?”
“That’s a tempting offer,” she whispered, her breath catching as he repeated the process to her other shoulder. “But we really do have to go. My father would be disappointed if we didn’t show up. Remember, he said he had a surprise.”
Henri Charbonnet had been full of surprises, Chase thought as he watched the other man laugh and play host to his elegant friends. Chase zeroed in on the face of the biggest and most unwelcome surprise of all—Bradley Eastman. Charming, good-looking and with a pedigree as long as his arm, Chase disliked everything about Madeline’s ex-fiancé. He disliked even more the fact that Eastman’s smarts and hotel-oriented background made him a perfect match for Madeline.
The object of his dislike leaned closer and whispered something to Madeline. When she tipped back her head in laughter, Chase wanted to smash the other man’s face in the plate of trout Eugene.
“Chase, Henri tells me that you’re going to be abandoning us and returning to New Jersey soon.”
Chase jerked his attention to Bitsy Laurent—another of Henri’s surprises that evening. The moment he had seen the newspaper’s society editor he had wondered just what Henri’s little announcement entailed, that he wanted press coverage.
“Is it true? Are you actually going to leave our fair city for the Northeast?”
“Everything has to come to an end sometime. As much as I like New Orleans, it’s not my home.” Chase reached for his wine, took a sip and immediately wished he could trade the expensive dry wine for the bite of whiskey.
“When will you be leaving?”
“In a few weeks. After the conference center addition is complete.” And Henri Charbonnet was destroyed. For some reason the thought gave him no pleasure tonight. He should be happy it was nearly over. His revenge would be complete, and he could return home and get on with his life. Yet the thought of leaving depressed him.
“Wait until you see the conference center, Bitsy,” Henri told her. “It’s a marvelous piece of work. Not one of those cold glass-and-steel jobs. I insisted it be designed to blend in with the elegance and beauty of the Saint Charles.”
“Elegance and beauty aside,” Bitsy began, swirling the wine in her glass. “The Saint Charles is not all that convenient to the convention trade. Do you really think you’ll be able to sell it, Henri?”
“Madeline’s already sold it,” Chase informed her. “She has it booked solid for the months of September and October and most of November. As far as convenience, Madeline came up with the perfect solution. Free transportation to our guests on one of the city’s landmarks—the streetcars.”
“I’m impressed,” Bitsy said. “Congratulations, Henri. You, too, Madeline. I guess the Saint Charles really is making a comeback.”
Charbonnet beamed. “A big one.”
Chase eyed his adversary, finding no enjoyment in knowing that when the conference center was complete, Charbonnet would be forced to relinquish another chunk of interest in his beloved hotel—and with it what remained of his control.
His gaze strayed to Madeline, and when she looked at him, there was a sadness there that her smile didn’t disguise. The sick, churning feeling hit him again.
Guilt. It wrenched in his gut. She was going to hate him for hurting her father and for taking another piece of her hotel. Chase stamped down on the rush of emptiness that realization brought. It couldn’t be helped. He had to do this for his mother. Besides, it was too late to stop things now. Everything was already in motion.
Charbonnet rose from his seat at the head of the table. He tapped his fork against the stem of his wineglass and Chase, along with the other eight people at the table, turned their attention to him. “Friends. Friends. I was going to save my announcement until after dessert, but now that Bitsy has brought up the subject of the Saint Charles and the conference center addition, I think now might be the appropriate time to tell you about another addition that is about to take place. As most of you know, the new conference center and renovation have been taking up a lot of my time. So has the increase in business. It doesn’t leave many hours for me to be with my friends.”
Chase tensed, but he managed a smile while the others at the table laughed at Henri’s joke.
“At any rate, managing the Saint Charles has become quite a demanding job. One I love, but don’t want to handle alone anymore. My partners at Majestic Hotels agree with me, and we’ve decided to appoint an assistant general manager.”
Chase frowned. Something was wrong. He could feel it in his bones. Charbonnet had fought him bitterly over the creation of the Assistant GM position and had lost the battle. He’d submitted no names for co
nsideration for the vote that was scheduled to take place at the board meeting next week. In fact, Chase’s own letter recommending Madeline had been sent that very morning in the express pouch, along with the monthly reports.
“My friends, I’d like to present the new assistant general manager of the Saint Charles Hotel and the young man that I hope will someday be my son-in-law and take over the reins of my family’s legacy. Bradley Eastman.”
Stunned, Chase darted his gaze across the table to Madeline. The burst of jealousy died instantly. The phony smile was pasted on her lips, but her skin was the color of chalk. Her eyes were the deep green of the Caribbean Sea at dawn and held a wealth of pain.
Chase set down his wineglass before he snapped the stem. “You’re being a little premature with your announcements, Charbonnet. Both of them,” he told Henri, not bothering to keep the edge out of his voice. The loud chatter at the table dimmed, but he didn’t care. “The board doesn’t vote on that position until next week.”
Henri smiled at him. “I spoke to Jamison and the others this afternoon. Faxed them a copy of Bradley’s résumé. They were quite impressed. And since you hadn’t made any recommendation, they agreed to go with mine. Bradley’s approval will simply be a matter of formality and handled at the meeting next week.”
“I’m afraid it won’t be quite that simple,” Chase told him through gritted teeth. “I’ve recommended Madeline for the job, and I intend to see that she gets it.”
“Madeline?” Charbonnet repeated.
“Yes, you know. Your daughter. The one who runs the hotel half the time so you can attend little society parties like this one.”
“Chase. Father, please. I appreciate your vote of confidence, Chase, but my father’s made his recommendation and I…I think Bradley’s an excellent choice. Congratulations, Bradley. I wish you the best.” She lifted her glass and proposed a toast to the other man.
Chase didn’t even pretend to drink. He simply stared at her, pain ripping through him for her. He wanted to strangle the old man for hurting her. And himself for adding to her hurt by stalling over his recommendation while he toyed with her father in a power play. Guilt and anger dealt alternating blows to his solar plexus. He deserved every one of them.
