“Oh, oh, what is happening?” she whispered against his mouth. “My mind is all mixed-up. My heart is going crazy.”
“I’m going crazy over you,” Britt said, turning his head to kiss her again. Melody tasted the scent of his skin and his amazing lips and her limbs went as limp as overcooked spaghetti.
“We—we can’t,” she tried to say as he pressed his mouth down again to explore her lips even more fully. Seriously, if he kept going like this she’d be an emotional wreck for the rest of the day. Putty in his hands.
After several long moments of the best kissing Melody had ever experienced, Britt paused, still holding her hand in his, his face close, his expression tender. “I’m probably coming on too strong. But ever since I saw you in the hall at midnight, it felt like you belonged here at White Castle. With me. It sounds crazy, but I had the strangest thought—that I’d been waiting my whole life for you.”
He pulled her into his arms, and Melody melted against him, her face in his neck while his hand fingered the long strands of her hair. “I go to sleep thinking about you, wanting to hold you, and then I wake up and life crashes down again.”
“Life can’t be crashing too bad when you own a car like this,” she teased.
Britt laughed. “You are funny and refreshing—and that kiss just now was remarkable.” His fingers tightened on hers as he pressed his lips against the back of her hand in a romantic gesture.
“If I say anything to confirm or deny about that kiss, I will only incriminate myself.”
He chuckled again. “You are adorable.”
“Britt,” Melody said, forcing herself to pull away. “As romantic and wonderful that kissing you in a Ferrari may be, there is Crystal. I can’t do this to my own sister. You’re engaged. She wears your ring. This is so wrong. In every way.” Her voice choked.
“Melody, we are not engaged. We were on a break when you showed up, and I told her last night that any official engagement was off—even though she came back to give me a ‘yes’ answer. All evening, nothing she said rang true or sincere. Only that she wanted to put an announcement in the society page in New York and go wedding shopping.”
“Newspaper clippings and wedding dresses do not make a marriage,” Melody said out loud, not realizing that she was speaking her thoughts. Blushing furiously and ducking her head, Melody tried not to be embarrassed after her comment.
“You’re right,” Britt said, his fingers brushing the hair out of her eyes, while his gaze locked onto hers. “Crystal is in love with the idea of a star-studded wedding. I know it sounds crass, but I realized that I needed to face a cold dose of reality. After thinking half the night away, I knew that she wasn’t really in love with me. Just the idea of me—and my money. We’re so incompatible in every other way. In a year, we’d be miserable. We’re done.”
“That’s why she left so angry,” Melody said softly.
“Why do you think I came to find you?”
She tried not to laugh. “To make sure I didn’t take off with your car?”
Britt let out another burst of laughter. “Have I told you lately that you’re adorable?”
“Yes, and you can tell me as often as you’d like. So,” she said, pausing to collect her thoughts. It would be so easy to sit in this sports car and kiss until their lips were bruised, but there was still so much about Britt Mandeville that she didn’t know—although she liked the things she did know very, very much. And she needed to remember that her sister was still part of the equation.
He lowered his head closer to hers, his voice soft and deep. “I see your mind whirring away. What’s going on inside that brilliant mind of yours, Melody?”
She bit at her lower lip, thoughts tumbling over one another. What was she going to do about her developing feelings, knowing Britt returned them, but also keeping her relationship with Crystal intact? Turning to Britt, she put all those thoughts into one question, “Crystal is still very much in the background, so what do we do now?”
“Besides the obvious?”
Melody punched him on the arm, her lips twitching with mirth.
He leaned back, folding her hands in his for a moment. “We get our work gloves, load up gear and supplies in my truck, and we head to New Orleans to dig out your bookstore and visit your grandmother.”
“Are the roads open?”
“Turn on the morning news while I cook up some eggs and bacon. Then we’ll make a plan.”
Chapter 17
Thirty minutes later, they sat on the couch together in front of the television set watching the weather report and updates on the aftermath of the hurricane. Britt shoveled eggs and bacon into his mouth like there was no tomorrow.
Melody stabbed a fork into the last of her eggs, amused. He was like a big, adventurous kid sometimes. There were so many aspects of this man that intrigued her and mesmerized her, but part of her held back. It was almost too good to be true that he desired her as much as she longed for him.
Standing up, Melody said, “Thanks for breakfast. I’m going to go upstairs and get ready and put a bag together for the day. We have no idea what we’re going to find in downtown New Orleans.”
Britt stood up and stretched. “Good thinking. Let’s get on the road as soon as we can since it’s almost a two-hour drive into the city. We can talk and plan on the way. Even though I’d love to stay here and spend the day with you cozy on the couch, or taking a walk together. I’ll bet it’s very nice kissing under an oak tree, although I’ve never tried it.”
Heat rose up Melody’s face. Kissing Britt on the couch or under a tree—or in the back seat of one of his cars would be a perfect way to spend the day, but she had to banish those thoughts.
Slowly, she backed out of the basement sitting room, trying not to be tempted as she wrestled with herself over feeling disloyal to Crystal. Crystal was still an issue.
When Melody reached her room and turned on the shower, she pondered the complications arising from her and Britt’s feelings. Because Crystal was her sister and she would raise heck if she knew that Britt had kissed her and called her adorable. Crystal would probably never speak to her again.
Of course, they rarely spoke that often. Her fashion plate sister’s life was filled with auditions and lunch meetings, photo shoots and clothes shopping. Melody called her sister in Chicago three times as much, and, in fact had visited Avery’s family and her nephew and niece only a few months ago. Avery had her hands full, too, with her bridal gown business and the children.
But she shouldn’t get involved with her sister’s ex-boyfriend, period, Melody determined as she stepped out of the shower and dressed.
She wouldn’t be surprised if Crystal returned to New York still wearing that outrageous diamond on her left hand. Her sister wouldn’t be able to help herself. From there, the gossip could spread like wild fire. If Melody embarrassed Crystal that would spell doom to their relationship.
After examining the wound on her leg and putting on a smaller Band-Aid, Melody was glad to see it was healing well. Fingers crossed there wouldn’t be much of a scar.
She placed her few belongings into her backpack and then stepped into the hall. A peculiar clacking noise sounded from somewhere in the quiet house. What was that?
Peeking into each of the empty guest rooms, Melody tried to locate it, finally heading downstairs where the clattering grew louder. In the back of the house, past the main floor public rooms, she finally recognized the sound. The tapping of fingers on a keyboard.
“Britt?” she called out.
“In here, Melody,” he answered.
She moved toward a room at the end of a perpendicular hallway, leaning against the door frame to watch Britt who sat at a computer. “Work stuff?” she asked casually, but also dying of curiosity about what he truly did for a living to earn major wealth in the millions or billions of dollars.
“Yep,” he said, pausing to gaze at her when she entered. Melody glanced around the wood-paneled office while Britt leaned b
ack in his desk chair which sat underneath a window that overlooked the side of the property where cypress trees provided shade.
“You do know that you are a contradiction, a dichotomy, in every way, right?” Melody said. “My sister tells me you’re filthy rich. You own luxury cars. And we’re not talking about a nice Lincoln, but limited-edition sports cars worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. And yet, you claim to be a gardener.”
“Both of those things are true. Remember when I told you that I had an antique business?”
“I’m sorry I don’t remember the name of the company.”
“DREAMS. Caleb Davenport is the CEO and President.”
“Ah, yes,” Melody said with a nod.
“Caleb had no idea the online app selling products from all over the world would explode like it did. Since I’m a history and antique buff, I proposed we offer collectibles and antiques. Something they hadn’t tried selling yet. Estate sales are more than just a bunch of Victorian couches. There are paintings and silver and china and stamp collections from some of the wealthiest families in the world.”
Right now, I’m digging through attics and old plantations—the ones that weren’t burned down during the Civil War—and finding some amazing treasure.”
“It sounds fascinating.”
“It is,” Britt agreed, holding out his hand. “Come here.”
Melody moved forward while he grasped her hand in his and pointed at the computer screen. Actually, he had three monitors and impressive state of the art equipment.
“I’m tracking shipments here. Setting up some auctions over here. And finalizing details of my trip to Savannah for the estate sale. Actually, I managed to get three scheduled over just a two-day period so I don’t have to be gone very long. I hope you’ll be all right here without me—and that you’ll wait for me to return.”
“I’m packed up to stay in New Orleans. If I can stay there at my own apartment. Of course, that depends on the damage, but I can’t stay at White Castle forever.”
“I don’t want you to go, you know,” Britt said quietly. “I like having you here with me.”
Melody’s heart skipped a beat. “I have to be practical. My emotions are running too strong. Plus, I need to see my grandmother.”
“I won’t keep you from her, I understand. I’ll try not to be so selfish.” Britt gave her a smile, and then kissed the back of her hand.
Melody shivered at the touch of his lips against her skin, but instead she focused on the evidence of Britt’s intriguing historical business all over the wide computer screens. The potential wealth that surrounded her. “You’ve certainly developed your passions into a thriving business. It’s fascinating, too. I’d love to help you with it—” She stopped, realizing what she was saying. “When—if—the time is ever right.”
“I’m going to hold you to it,” he said, waving a hand at the advanced computer set-up. “This is all thanks to Caleb. He’s the genius behind the computer app. I just lucked out working for him.”
Melody sank into a chair next to him. “Knowing the value and history of antiques is not lucking out, Mr. Mandeville. You’ve put in your time and passion. But why are you a grounds-keeper here at White Castle? It seems so isolated.”
“Not really. Thirty minutes to Baton Rouge, another hour to New Orleans—when there isn’t a hurricane blowing through, that is,” he added with a grin. “People in San Francisco and New York City commute longer than that. And most of my work is online or via conference calls. I travel maybe once a month. Besides, I like to keep physically busy, too. Sitting at the computer can drive me crazy after a while. And—I fell in love with the plantations of the South during my college years.”
“You are a fascinating man,” Melody told him.
He rose from his chair pulling her to her feet as well, and wrapped his arms around her. “You feel fantastic,” he told her, lifting her off her feet a few inches. Slowly setting her back down, he leaned in closer, but Melody stepped back.
“It’s tempting, Britt, but I have to practice restraint. I can’t do this to my sister.”
He dropped his hands and nodded. “I understand. No more touching. Until you give me the word.”
“It might be a year or more,” she warned him. “It will depend on what Crystal does in New York the next few weeks. What if your pending nuptials are announced in People magazine or the New York Times?”
Britt groaned, running his fingers through his hair. “In my various lines of work, I’ve had to learn patience. Patience watching flowers and trees grow. Patience waiting for the right piece of art to rise at the most opportune moment. The right timing for an auction. I think it all started when I was teaching high schoolers,” he added with a laugh. “Teenagers force you to have patience.”
“I can imagine,” Melody said. “And, if you will drop me off in Baton Rouge so I can pick up a rental car to drive into New Orleans, we will bid goodbye for now.”
Britt’s expression turned stormy. “No, I’m taking you down there myself.”
“I can’t ask you do to any more for me.”
“And what have I done besides cook a few meals? There’s still flooding in parts of the city. Potential crime, especially in the downtown area. Being alone is not safe. And you don’t know what you’re going to find when you get there.”
“Oh, why do you have to make so much sense? I’m giving you an out, Mandeville. I’m sure the rest of your tour and kitchen crew will be arriving back on site over the next few days.”
“No more arguments. I’d hate myself if I let you drive off to the French Quarter without a bodyguard.”
“Now you’re my bodyguard, huh?”
“I have my black belt in karate, in case you didn’t know. And a Ruger handgun under the seat of my truck.”
“Yikes, I hope it’s not that bad in New Orleans! Wait a minute . . . You have a truck now, too? How many cars do you own?”
“One for every occasion,” he said with a wry smile. “You never know when a certain vehicle will come in handy.”
“If I can’t twist your arm, then what are we waiting for, handyman?”
“You can twist my arm anytime, as long as you do it up close and personal.”
She raised an eyebrow, her heart pounding at the flirty words. “I think someone is not focusing on the matter at hand.”
“Give me something else to think about then, Melody,” he said in a husky voice.
She moved into his circle of reach and tugged at the collar of his t-shirt. Pulling him close, Melody leaned in to kiss him full on the lips. She heard his surprised intake of breath, and his hands caught her hips, sending her heart thudding.
Melody held the kiss, exploring his lips for a few moments, before breaking it off. “That will have to last you for a long time, Mr. Mandeville. Now no more flirting. There’s work to be done.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” he said, copying her words from earlier. “My truck is loaded and ready to go.”
“That was fast.”
“What can I say? You take long showers.”
“Incorrigible man,” Melody muttered under her breath before glancing up at his breathtaking eyes which held hers in a penetrating gaze.
Chapter 18
True to his word, Britt had a blue Chevy truck in the front drive loaded with tools, lumber, saws, a stack of blankets, heavy-duty garbage bags, and a huge cooler filled with food and ice. A second cooler was stuffed with water bottles and juices.
“Are you planning on feeding an army?”
He gave her a wink. “Never know who you’re gonna meet who needs help.”
Melody shook her head in awe. This man continued to surprise and delight her. His warmth and generosity seemed to know no bounds. “You’re pretty extraordinary,” she said quietly.
“Ditto, Melody. First stop is the hospital. I know you’re worried.”
“The nurses have been keeping me informed, but I have to see her with my own eyes.”
After
Britt opened the cab door of the truck for her, Melody climbed in and they were off. The truck had all the bells and whistles and the engine noise became almost a lullaby as she dozed off. Late nights and early mornings didn’t go together anymore. She was no longer a college freshman who could study all night and ace an exam the next day.
A light touch on her arm startled her. Melody sat up straight and adjusted her seatbelt. “Where are we? What time is it?”
“Look ahead. There’s the Big Easy right in front of us, and it’s going on ten.”
Sure enough, Melody could see the tall downtown buildings, Lake Pontchartrain in a blue sweep to the east and clogged roads and highways all around them. “Look over there. Those roads disappear right into bodies of water.”
“Yeah, it’s crazy, but I think the city is slowly draining compared to the images I saw before the house power went out.”
“The French Quarter usually doesn’t get hit as badly as other, lower areas, but my little bookstore is off an alley that sits lower than the main streets. I’m dreading this.”
Melody gripped the dash while Britt maneuvered the streets to the hospital. Within another thirty minutes, they had parked and were getting directions to her room from the nurses’ station.
She practically raced down the hall and Britt caught her arm. “Easy there, you don’t want to alarm the other patients, or your grandmother.”
Ten seconds later, Melody burst through the door and stopped. A nurse was taking Mirry’s vitals at the moment and glanced up.
“I’m Melody, her granddaughter,” she told the nurse.
“She’s waking up more each day, come say hello. I’m finished here. Just don’t stay too long.”
“How are her x-rays?” Melody asked.
“Getting better. She’s lucky.” The nurse lowered her voice. “At her age, pneumonia can be tricky. Especially when she came in off a boat so ill and drenched to the bone.”
The Owner's Secret (A Secret Billionaire Romance Book 4) Page 12
