This Tender Melody. Kianna Alexander

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This Tender Melody - Kianna Alexander Mills & Boon Kimani

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the breeze to flow in, before sprawling across the bed once again. He reached behind him and grabbed the remote from the niche in his headboard.

      He turned on the fifty-inch flat-screen television occupying a wall of the bedroom and flipped through the channels. He paused at one of those dating reality shows, where some guy in a suit was offering a flower to a squealing girl in a too-tight dress, and scoffed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in true love, but he damn sure didn’t believe it could be found on some corny, scripted show. He couldn’t figure out why those shows were so popular, but he guessed there had to be someone, somewhere, who really thought you could find love that way.

      But he’d witnessed true love as a kid, so he knew it existed. He’d also seen what losing a true love could do to a man, when his mother had waltzed out the door, proclaiming her urge to sing was stronger than her maternal instincts. The day she’d left him and his father to fend for themselves was a day he couldn’t forget, no matter how he tried. He’d seen his father, the man he looked up to and respected more than anyone in the world, reduced to tears that day. And even at a young age, he understood that his father was in pain, and that he never wanted to suffer that way.

      Still, as he stretched out in the king-sized bed, he had to admit that it might be nice to have a beautiful woman pressed up against him. He wrapped himself up in the crisp white sheets, which was as close as he was going to get to being held tonight. Sure, there were one or two ladies he could call on to warm his bed, but they didn’t really meet his requirements. A woman he would fully let into his life would have to be intelligent, independent and graceful, but most of all, she’d have to be loyal. He required nothing less than total devotion from a woman, because he had no plans of ending up like his father; disrespected, disgraced and deserted.4

      She would also have to accept the fact that he didn’t have any desire to get married. To him, marriage represented nothing more than a legal contract, a piece of paper for the paperwork jockeys who worked down at the county courthouse with Rashad to sign off on. His parents had been married, but that hadn’t stopped his mother from dishonoring her vows and basically spitting in his father’s face when she left him. Why bother going through all the trouble of signing something, having a ceremony and putting on airs? None of that meant anything without a true commitment, and as far as he was concerned, there were already enough pretenses in the world.

      The buzzing of his cell phone drew him back to reality. Reaching over to where it lay on the nightstand, he picked it up and looked at the display. The caller ID said Unknown, and he wondered who would be calling him on a Sunday night. Curious, he lightly touched the screen twice, answering the call and engaging the speakerphone.

      “Hello?”

      “Darius, is that you?” The female voice on the line sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Since he’d had the same cell phone number since grad school, there was really no telling who it was.

      “Yes, who’s this?” He stared at the phone’s screen.

      A few moments passed in silence, as if the woman were hesitant to reveal her identity. Finally, she took a deep breath. “This is Louise Franklin.”

       Chapter 2

      Eve secured the crystal-beaded elastic around her low bun, then gave her reflection a final glance in the mirror. Satisfied with the look of her chocolate-brown pantsuit, gold jewelry and muted makeup, she flicked off the light on her vanity and rose to her feet. She was due at the monthly board meeting in less than an hour, and she knew she needed to get on the road in order to avoid the usual traffic in downtown Charlotte.

      Within a few minutes, she’d made herself a cup of coffee and a bagel, grabbed her purse and briefcase, and flown out the door.

      She strolled into the boardroom ten minutes before the meeting was set to begin. Glancing around the room, she could see that the seats around the long polished table were empty. Confused, she paused a moment, then backtracked to the open conference room door. There, a simple typed sign had been affixed to the glass. She read it—the board meeting had been postponed until 10 a.m. the next day. No explanation had been given.

      She shrugged and returned to the corridor to get back on the elevator. The conference room was on the building’s third floor, along with the employee lounge and the security offices. Her office was on the seventh floor, where the entire finance department was housed. She slipped into the car, jabbed the appropriate button on the elevator’s panel and waited for the doors to close.

      A half a second before the doors could meet, a hand wedged between them, making them part again. Her gaze followed the rather large hand up an arm clothed in a raven-black suit, the cuff of a cherry-red shirt visible at the wrist.

      The doors opened fully, and in stepped the finest brother she’d ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes on. He wore a gray, red and black striped tie, a bold complement to the well-cut suit and crisp shirt. His hair was close cut, a neat fade. His chiseled, bronze-toned face was framed by a carefully trimmed beard and mustache. Two dark, mesmerizing eyes fixed on her, and two full lips turned up into a sinfully sexy smile. “Good morning.”

      For a moment, she just stood there, staring. The second he’d stepped into the space, he’d brought with him an intoxicating, masculine aroma. She picked up notes of sandalwood, eucalyptus and something else she couldn’t quite identify.

      Exhaling, she tried to form a verbal response, though her brain was a bit slow to cooperate. When she found her voice, she returned his greeting.

      If he noticed how dumbfounded she looked, he didn’t mention it. He gripped the strap of the attaché case slung over his shoulder with one hand, and used his free hand to press the button for the eighth floor. “Good, you’re already going up. Wouldn’t want to keep a lovely lady like yourself from any important appointments.”

      She tried to stop herself, but before she knew it, her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip. Damn, this man was fine. So fine she could barely think. Looking at him was like looking at the sun—awfully pretty, but it sure did make your eyes hurt. Rather than put her foot in her mouth, she simply smiled and nodded.

      No one said anything for the few moments they shared the elevator car. She was perfectly fine with pressing her back into the corner, gripping the handrail and staring at his back. The dark suit fit him so well it must have been custom-made. Despite her father’s efforts to hire on as many people of color as possible, there just weren’t that many brothers working at FTI. That was why a well-dressed brother like him stood out, or at least that was what she told herself.

      As the automated voice announced their arrival at the seventh floor, she extricated herself from the corner and prepared to get off. The doors opened, and she attempted to ease by him without making eye contact.

      She succeeded in doing that, but didn’t manage to evade him entirely. As he stuck his arm out to make sure the doors didn’t shut on her, his hand brushed against her arm. She glanced back, and found his smiling eyes on her.

      “Have a great day, beautiful.” He gave her a wink.

      She stepped back, out into the hallway, and the elevator doors closed. Just like that, Mr. Sexy Mystery Man was gone. That disappointed her a bit, but at least she could think straight now that he’d taken his sexiness and delicious scent elsewhere.

      Swiveling to her right, she strode down the hall toward her corner office. By now, her secretary should have some coffee made—maybe a kick of caffeine would help her concentrate

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