had he paid any attention to whether her car was still in the driveway? He couldn’t remember noticing.
Panicked that she might have done something so completely impulsive and dangerous because of him, he bounded upstairs and very nearly broke down the guest-room door with his pounding. He heard her sleepily mumbled “What?” just as he threw open the door.
Undisguised relief flooded through him at the sight of her in the bed, the comforter pulled up to her chin, her hair rumpled, her eyes dazed.
“Is something wrong?” she asked in that same husky, half-asleep tone.
The comforter drooped, revealing one bare shoulder and a tantalizing hint of breast. Heart pounding, Richard began backing away. “No, really. Sorry.”
“Richard?”
Even half-asleep, she was constitutionally incapable of letting anything go, he concluded grimly. He was going to have to explain himself, or at least come up with something plausible that wouldn’t give away how frantic he’d been when he’d imagined her risking her neck on the icy roads.
“Um, the front door was open,” he said, improvising quickly. “I thought someone might have broken in. I just wanted to be sure you were okay.”
Her gaze narrowed. “The front door was open?”
“Just a crack,” he said, guessing that she was about to worry that piece of information to death.
“But I closed it. I know I did. I didn’t lock it, because I wasn’t sure if you had another key with you and I wasn’t sure if I’d hear you if I fell asleep and you knocked, but I’m sure it was securely shut.”
“No big deal,” he said. “As long as you’re okay. Go back to sleep. Sorry I disturbed you.”
She smiled and stretched, allowing another tiny slip of the comforter. She seemed to be oblivious to the sexy picture she presented.
“I’m awake now. I might as well get up.”
Because she seemed about to do exactly that without regard for her lack of attire—or what his vivid imagination believed to be her lack of attire—Richard bolted. He wasn’t sure his heart could take the image of a totally unclad Melanie being burned in his mind forever.
He was downstairs, in the kitchen, making another pot of very strong coffee, when she finally appeared, her face scrubbed clean, her hair tidied. He’d liked it better all tousled, but it was evident she was trying to reclaim her professional—totally untouchable—decorum. He could have told her that not even the most modest power suit of all time could accomplish that. She was an innately sexy woman, the kind who conjured up forbidden images, at least for him.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“No, thanks. Too much caffeine and I’ll never sleep tonight.”
Richard was pretty sure he wasn’t going to sleep anyway, so a little caffeine wasn’t going to matter. “I bought a video for us to watch later,” he said, gesturing to the table.
She picked it up, studied it, then grinned. “You bought a romantic comedy?”
“I heard it was good,” he muttered defensively. “I thought all women liked that kind of sappy stuff.”
“We do. I’m just surprised you took my feelings into account.”
“My aunt raised me to be a thoughtful host.”
“Even when you’re an unwilling one?” she asked skeptically.
“Even then,” he insisted. “Maybe it’s most important of all then. And Destiny obviously knew that I’d mastered that lesson when she sent you charging down here. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have risked it.”
Melanie met his gaze and opened her mouth. Richard cut her off. “I don’t want to hear another apology. We both know you’re here because of my aunt. If anyone’s to blame for the awkwardness of the situation, it’s Destiny.”
“She was just trying to help both of us out,” Melanie replied. “You can hardly blame her for caring about you and for trying to do me a favor.”
“Yes, I can,” he said grimly. “When it takes the form of meddling, I most certainly can. If this was only about that contract, she’d have planted you in my office on Monday morning, not in this cottage on a Friday night, armed with my favorite wine and food.”
Melanie grimaced. “Maybe we shouldn’t go there. We don’t seem to see eye-to-eye on your aunt’s motivation. In fact, maybe I should go in the living room and sit in front of the fire and get some work done, and you can stay in here and do the same.”
Richard bit back a grin. “Retreating to neutral corners, as it were.”
“Exactly.”
“Maybe that’s not such a bad idea,” he said as he gazed directly into her eyes. He thought he detected a faint hint of longing there. Best not to give himself the chance to discover if he was right.
She stood there, looking undecided, then finally sighed. “See you later, then.”
“Yeah, see you later.” When she was almost out of sight, he called after her. “Melanie?”
She hesitated but didn’t turn back to face him. “Yes?”
“Anything in particular you’d like for dinner?”
She turned then, her expression perplexed. “There are choices?”
“Sure. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Destiny made it seem as if…”
“As if I would be starving if you didn’t show up down here,” Richard guessed. He grinned. “Told you what she was up to.”
Melanie nodded. “Damn but she’s good,” she said, sounding more admiring than annoyed.
“It’s something we should both keep in mind, don’t you think?” he responded.
“Oh, yes,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “I will definitely keep that in mind. As for dinner, surprise me.”
As if I could, Richard thought, but he nodded. Maybe when it came to dinner, he could come up with something totally unexpected. Lord knew, though, that the woman seemed able to read his mind when it came to anything else.
Melanie grabbed her cell phone and marched outside, oblivious to the cold. She punched in Destiny Carlton’s number, then waited for a connection. When it came, the signal was faint, but she could hear Destiny’s cheerful voice.
“You are one very sneaky woman,” Melanie accused, though without too much rancor.
“Melanie, darling. How are you? Are you stranded down there with Richard?” There was an unmistakably optimistic note in her voice.
“I’m sure you knew I would be,” Melanie grumbled.
“Not knew, hoped,”
