Even as she ranted, he reached into a bag and pulled out a silky negligee. His eyes immediately filled with heat.
“Yes, I can see that,” he murmured.
It was said in a placating tone she found totally annoying. Nor did he look nearly as distressed as Melanie had anticipated. “Richard, are you hearing what I’m saying? This has to stop. She’s spending a fortune on a wedding that is not going to take place. She’s out of control. This whole mess is out of control.”
“I hear you.” He held up the negligee, that hot gleam still in his eyes. “This doesn’t have to go to waste, though, does it?”
She stared at him. “What?”
His gaze caught hers. “It would be a shame to let this go to waste, don’t you think?”
Her pulse raced. “Are you crazy?” she asked, her voice a little too breathless. Surely he wasn’t suggesting…
“Come away with me,” he said, “Please.”
“I don’t think—”
He smiled. “There you go. Don’t think. I’ve spent the whole day doing enough thinking for both of us. Just say yes, Melanie. We’ll go down to the cottage for a few days.”
“So we can figure out how to handle this?” she said, still trying to maintain the illusion that that gleam in his eyes did not mean what she thought it meant—okay, what she wanted it to mean.
His smile spread. “That’s one reason.”
She regarded him suspiciously. “What’s the other one?”
“So I can see you wearing this,” he said quietly, letting the filmy material run through his fingers. He met her gaze again. “And take it off of you.”
Oh, God, she thought, her heart hammering.
“Well?”
In her head, she heard herself saying no. It was loud, clear and decisive. She repeated it just to be sure.
Then she looked into Richard’s expectant gaze.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Apparently she wasn’t satisfied that her life hadn’t descended into total heartbreak yet. She was determined to careen wildly straight into disaster.
Chapter Thirteen
Though Richard had spent the entire day trying to figure out the best way to handle things with Melanie and Destiny, he hadn’t come to any satisfactory conclusions by the time Melanie had come bursting into his office twenty minutes earlier. Leaning back in his chair, listening to Melanie’s outpouring of dismay over their duplicity, watching the color rise in her cheeks, hearing the passion in her voice had convinced him of one thing. He wasn’t going to let her go the way he’d originally intended.
To the contrary, in fact. He was going to do his best to figure out some way to keep her in his life. After all the scheming, he realized he might have a teensy bit of trouble getting her to trust him, but he’d overcome tougher obstacles in his life.
He might still be more than a little miffed over his aunt’s meddling, but Destiny had gotten it right. Melanie was exactly what he’d needed. He should have known Destiny wouldn’t make a mistake with his happiness on the line. No one on earth knew him better, flaws and all. She’d found a woman capable of balancing his natural stodginess, a woman who could make him feel alive, a woman whose passion would make him lose his head and his heart…if only he dared to risk them.
As he’d listened to Melanie, he’d realized that for him all bets were off. Unfortunately, he’d made a commitment to her that she could end their phony relationship. He’d realized that he had one chance—if he was lucky—to convince her that ending things wasn’t what she wanted, either.
For a man not normally inclined to risk rejection, he’d taken a huge chance by inviting her down to the cottage. Letting her know that he had more than talking on his mind had been an even bigger risk, but he couldn’t deceive her about his intentions. He might take all the well-intentioned lies to Destiny reasonably lightly, but he would not lie to Melanie. They had enough hurdles to get over without adding that.
Looking across his desk at her now, heat in her cheeks, her eyes bright, he knew he would do whatever was necessary to persuade her to stay with him forever. Never before had he allowed anyone to begin to matter so much. The power of his feelings for her very nearly overwhelmed him.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “Do you really want to go to the cottage with me?”
She nodded.
“You know I’m asking you there to do more than talk.”
A smile played on her lips as she gestured toward that breathtaking concoction of deep blue silk and lace. “You made that clear.”
“Your employment as a consultant to my campaign has nothing at all to do with this,” he said to make sure she understood that. “Your work here is secure, no matter what happens between us personally. I’ll put that in writing if you like.”