Mary had said he was a confirmed bachelor. It was definitely possible a bachelor wouldn’t want to be saddled with two little boys who required a lot of time and attention.
By the time she’d finished her shower and dressed, nervous energy bounced around in her stomach. She certainly didn’t know Henry well enough to second-guess what he might want to discuss with her, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that it had something to do with Joey and James.
Despite the night of desire they’d shared, since the moment she’d arrived at this mansion Henry frightened her more than a little bit. Oh, she wasn’t physically frightened of him. What scared her most was the fear of him rejecting his sons, sons that he’d never wanted and had never asked for.
When she returned downstairs Mary had the boys on their tummies on a blanket in the living room. She smiled at Melissa. “That James, he’s a feisty one, isn’t he? He reminds me of Henry when he was a baby. Demanding and impatient, there’s going to be no holding him back when he starts to walk.”
James arched his back, raised himself up and grinned at Melissa, as if relishing the very idea of being independent and mobile. Meanwhile, Joey rolled over onto his back, perfectly content to play with his fingers.
“It must be hard, being a single parent to twins,” Mary said.
“I manage okay,” Melissa replied with a touch of defensiveness.
“I’m sure you do, dear. Henry is waiting for you in the study,” Mary said. “It’s down the hall and the first door on your right.”
Melissa nodded and with one last look at her contented boys, she went down the hall to the study. The door was closed and she knocked on it with a gentle tap.
She heard him tell her to come in and she opened the door. Henry sat behind a massive mahogany desk and although he smiled at her as she stepped into the room, it did nothing to alleviate her nervousness.
The study was as beautifully appointed as the other rooms in the house. A stone fireplace took up one wall and floor-to-ceiling bookcases filled another. “Melissa, please have a seat.” He gestured to the chair in front of the desk. She sank down and tried not to be intimidated by the surroundings, by him.
“Mom said you were eager to get on the road and head home, but I wanted to talk to you about the possibility of you staying through Christmas,” he said.
“Oh, I’m not sure …” She paused as he held up a hand to stop whatever she was about to say.
“We’re forever linked now by those boys and despite the fact that we had that night together, I don’t know anything about you.”
Oh, but he did, she thought. He knew she liked to be kissed just below her ear, that if he stroked her breasts she moaned deep in the back of her throat. A whisper of longing swept through her as she remembered that night and him. She forced herself to focus on what he was saying.
“We stopped having anything to celebrate at Christmastime three years ago when my father unexpectedly died of a heart attack on Christmas Day. Since then Christmas each year has slid by with little celebration in this house. But this year we have something to celebrate. The twins. I’d like to give them a terrific first Christmas, so please tell me you’ll stay.”
Her first instinct was relief, that he wasn’t casting the boys out and that he apparently wanted to get to know them better. Still, there was one thing that made her relief short-lived. “I have to be honest. I haven’t forgotten those bullets that flew when I arrived here,” she said. “I don’t want to put Joey and James in harm’s way.” She fought against a shiver as she thought of the bullets that had come far too close to them the night before.
“I feel more comfortable with you here rather than going back outside,” he replied. “Somebody is being a nuisance, obviously attempting to make me rethink my position in running for mayor, but I won’t let any harm come to you or the children.”
She considered his words thoughtfully and believed him. There was something solid about him, a strength in his eyes that let her know he wouldn’t allow danger to come to her or her babies.
He was their father and all he was asking was for her to remain a couple more days. Surely there was no harm in that, in giving him and his mother the first Christmas with the boys.
“Okay,” she finally replied. “We’ll stay through the holiday.” She had no idea if it were the right thing to do or if it was possible she was making a terrible mistake.
A wave of satisfaction swept through Henry at her reply. From the moment she’d stepped into the study he’d smelled her, a familiar scent of fresh flowers with a hint of vanilla. It was the same fragrance she’d worn the night they’d been snowbound together and it stirred all kinds of crazy memories inside him.
As she stood and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear he remembered how soft, how silky her hair had been beneath his touch. That wasn’t all he remembered. There was the taste of her mouth open to his, the spill of her warm, full breasts into his palms and the moans that had escaped her at his every touch. Desire slammed into his stomach, hot and wild and completely unexpected.
He had no idea if he trusted her, hadn’t spent enough time with her to know if he even liked her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting a repeat of what they’d shared on that snowy night.
“Good. We’ll make it a Christmas to remember,” he said and stood.
She backed toward the doorway, as if eager to escape him. “I’m going to take the boys upstairs for their morning naps. I’ll see you later.”
“Melissa,” he said, stopping her before she could disappear from the room. “I don’t even know your last name.”
She smiled, the first real smile he’d seen from her, and the gesture lit her up from the inside out. “Monroe. Melissa Monroe.”
The minute Melissa left the study Henry leaned back in his chair and gazed thoughtfully out the window. From this vantage point he could see the carriage house in the distance. It was a two-bedroom self-contained cottage that was occasionally used as guest quarters.
Henry had been living there before his father’s death. His heart constricted as he thought about his dad. Not a day went by that Henry didn’t miss him. Big Henry, as he’d been called, had not only been father, but he’d also been friend and mentor to his only son. The two of them had worked side by side running Randolf Enterprises, which was comprised of not only the ranch but also oil wells and enormous financial holdings.
There were people in town who were threatened not only by the financial power Henry possessed, but also by his decision to run for the position of mayor and clean up the corruption he knew ran rife through the city offices of Dalhart.
He had a couple suspicions of who might have taken those shots at him, but suspicions didn’t work for an arrest. He also suspected that whoever had shot at him hadn’t really tried to kill him but rather was just warning him, hoping he’d decide not to run for mayor.
Those gunshots didn’t scare him half as much as the idea that Melissa might not allow him to be as big a part of the boys’ lives as he wanted.
“Henry?” His mother entered the study, her features worried. “Is she going to stay?” She sat
