Heart's Reward. Donna Hill
as if they were the only one. Which is why I can assure you that you won’t have any problems and will get the best attention from my team. They are all experts at what they do.”
Rafe picked a slice of pineapple off the tray and popped it into his mouth, chewing softly. “I was hoping that you and I would be going over the details.”
“I’m afraid not. Once the assessment is done, I’ll review it with the team and make my recommendations. At that point, you and I will meet again.”
The corner of his mouth curved upward. “Well, if talking to your team will quicken you and me talking again, then let’s get started.”
Melanie’s stomach knotted for a moment. “Rafe, we need to be clear. I don’t mix up my business with my personal life and I don’t see clients outside of the office.”
Rafe stepped up to her, clouding her brain with his scent. “Cher, don’t take yourself so seriously. I would never want you to compromise your ethics. Is that what you thought?” His brow arched. His sarcastic question hung in the air, taunting her.
She ran her tongue lightly across her dry lips. “The team is waiting.”
“Lead the way.”
Melanie turned to head out and could feel him cataloging every inch of her. For good measure she put a little more sway in her hips. Let him get a good look at what he’d never have.
Jessica and Veronica were waiting for them in the main office.
Rafe turned to Melanie at the door. “Will I see you before I leave?”
The tone of his question, soft, almost tender, stroked her center like a single finger trailing across her skin.
“If I’m done with my own work, I’ll be sure to say goodbye. In the meantime, try to behave yourself.” Before he could respond, she walked away, closing the door gently behind her.
Melanie returned to her private office and sealed herself away, determined to get her list in order. But the exercise was initially futile. Images of Claude then Rafe danced through her head. What she needed was a man of her own so that she could stop salivating over men she would have to turn over to other women.
More than two hours later, Melanie had finally made some serious headway with her list and moved on to sketching out the menu, theme and entertainment. Humming to herself, her brief moment of self-satisfaction was interrupted by Jessica at the door. Melanie turned away from her computer and realized that evening had fully descended upon the island. In the distance from her window she could see the yellow dots of lights begin to fill the windows of the homes on the bluff. She stretched. “Come on in Jess,” she said over a muffled yawn.
Jessica stepped partially in. “We’re done. Mr. Lawson wanted to say good-night.”
I bet he does, Melanie thought. She got up, adjusted her top and followed Jessica out. Rafe was standing in the grand foyer in an animated conversation with Vincent. Melanie approached.
The two men turned in her direction. A smile moved Rafe’s mouth.
“I hope the interview process wasn’t too difficult,” she said when she came to a stop in front of the duo.
Rafe chuckled. “I was just telling Vincent that your team could get a job with the FBI any day.”
Her right brow flickered in amusement. “Yes, they are very good at what they do.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing who you’ll come up with to fit the bill.”
Melanie extended her hand. “We’ll be in touch.”
He clasped her hand in his. “I’ll give you a call when I get back to New York—in about a week.”
“Fine. Safe travels.”
He released her hand and Vincent walked him to the door, clapping him heartily on the back before returning to the women.
“Should we meet now?” Jessica asked, “Or do we want to wait until tomorrow?” She looked from one face to the other.
“We may as well run through everything now and make our decision,” Melanie said, knowing that her real motivation was that she could rationally convince herself that Claude—and Rafe for that matter—were clients and nothing more. Some other woman’s dream come true. She inhaled deeply and released a breath of resolve. “Let’s do this.”
Claude let his Harley rev down to a soft purr and coasted into his Westchester estate driveway. It wasn’t often that he had a chance to ride, take his bike out and run her full throttle. But when opportunity presented itself, he took it.
There was a lone light coming from the ground-floor window of his two-story Tudor. His housekeeper, Lin, always left a light on when she knew he’d be coming home. The small gesture took some of the edge off of coming home to an empty house. The upside was he generally was only here maybe two weeks out of the month. The rest of the time he was either in Albany or in D.C., where the work and rigorous hours ensured his being alone. There were women. There were always women to take the chill off of lonely nights. But he had yet to find someone that he wanted to be with beyond a few meals at great restaurants and uncomplicated sex. In his world it took a certain kind of woman to understand the demands of his life. So for the most part he kept his relationships few and far between. It was simpler that way.
After changing into his workout clothes, he went downstairs to his home gym in the basement, loaded with the latest exercise equipment that could easily rival the most upscale gym.
He put in at least an hour three days per week. It not only kept him in peak physical condition, but also kept his mind sharp and his hormones at a manageable level. After a good workout and a hot shower, Claude settled down in front of the television and tuned into his favorite news show, MSNBC. Rachel Maddow was interviewing the Health and Human Services Secretary on the health reform bill.
He leaned back and tried to focus on the discussion, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his afternoon in Sag Harbor. Jessica and Veronica didn’t leave a pebble unturned during the interview. They’d all but taken notes about his life starting in the womb. He chuckled at the memory and wondered who they would find for him. What woman would be his perfect match? Someone like Melanie Harte, a distant voice whispered in his head. She would be ideal. Beautiful, intelligent, sexy, well-traveled and powerful in her own right—a devastating combination. He wondered if Melanie had a man in her life, and if so, what was he like? What did he do for a living? And the million dollar question: How did she feel about him?
A sudden clap of thunder startled him out of his mind games and none too soon. His imagination was on the verge of taking him someplace he didn’t need to go. Melanie Harte was not an option.
Claude crossed the room to the window and closed it. He stood in front of the arched panes of glass as the heavens lit up with a burst of brilliant white light, illuminating the sky.
The ringing phone drew his attention from the spectacle of light. He picked up the phone from the end table and recognized the cell number right away.
“Traci…how are you?”
Her laughter filled the phone lines. “Don’t you simply hate technology and what it has done to the element of surprise? I’m fine. Better than fine and I’m in town for a few days. I was hoping we could get together if you’re going to be around.”
“Where are you staying?”
“The Marriott in midtown. Lucked out and got a suite.”
He and Traci had met about five, six years earlier when he was at the U.N. conference with the senator. Traci was an attaché and spent most of her time traveling, as well. Never married, career politico with aspirations to run for office. Smart, easy on the eyes and low maintenance.
Claude glanced at the clock. Almost eight. He listened to the ping of the rain bouncing off the windows. An hour drive into the city and then back. What the hell. He could