Enchanting Melody (9 page)

Will felt a rush of pride at Melody's words. It meant a lot to him that she was concerned enough about his career that she would go to all this trouble. “What can I get you to drink?”

He saw her gaze upward, as though mentally running the list. “Honestly, I'd love a beer.”

He got her a beer and the same for himself. After taking a sip, he finally began to relax.

“Okay, so fill me in on what's going on here,” Melody asked.

“In a nutshell, Bellemy was just promoted to partner and we're celebrating.”

“Cool. When will you be in line to become a partner?”

Will laughed. “Not for many years, if ever. I'd have to pay my dues at the firm, make some huge investments, reel in some big whales, uh, clients…”

“Oh, so this Bellemy guy did all that? He looks like he's fresh out of college.”

“Actually, he might have skipped a few steps.”

She raised her brows. “What do you mean?”

“The firm's president, Robert Geddes, has this private golf game. It's impossible to get an invitation, but, if you do, big things start happening for your career.”

Melody grinned. “Golf, huh? Do you play?”

“I started taking lessons, you know, just in case. But, far bigger suck-ups than me have tried and failed to get that invitation. I'm afraid I'm going to have to make it the old-fashioned way.”

After they'd finished their drinks, Will was amazed at how Melody went to work on the room. He'd expected they'd make the rounds quickly and head out, but she'd insisted on staying. Obviously, being the daughter of a politician had had an impact on her, because she mingled like a pro. Not only was she absolutely stunning, but she was charming as well. And she never missed an opportunity to talk him up.

When he couldn't stall a visit to the men's room any longer, he knew she'd be fine on her own. In fact, she'd taken on the weight of most of the conversation anyway. His colleagues were fascinated by her.

To his surprise, when he returned, Melody was on a first-name basis with Robert Geddes. Will hadn't yet had any face time with the bigwig because he'd been tightly surrounded by the company's best brownnosers. Now he gently breached the crowd to reach Melody.

“It's true, Rob,” she was saying. “Ever since my father played in a charity tournament with Tiger, my mother frequently calls upon him to participate in her inner-city youth outreach program.”

Will felt his mouth go dry. Did she just call his boss Rob?

“That's fantastic. I've always wanted to meet Tiger Woods,” Geddes said.

Melody glanced over her shoulder at Will. “Oh good, here's Will. Rob and I were just talking about golf. You play, don't you?” She pulled him into her space and backed away. “Excuse me, it's my turn to hit the ladies' room.”

 

Later that evening at a pizza parlor near Will's apartment, Melody tugged her shoes off under the table. “Oh, man, I don't think I'll ever be able to wear shoes again. My feet are swollen to the size of basketballs.”

“My bathtub has jets. I'll take you home and rub them for you, then you can take a nice long soak.”

She raised her brows at him. “What makes you think that I'll be going home with you again tonight?”

“Did you hear what I just said? Foot massage and hot tub. Need I say more?”

“Not really, no,” Mel said after a brief pause. “I just don't want you thinking I'm moving in or anything. I have to go back to my apartment tomorrow.”

“Something pressing calling you back?”

Mel rolled her eyes. “I have less than a week to put a bridal shower together from scratch.”

Will's brow wrinkled. “Less than a week? How did you get so far behind?”

Melody felt her cheeks heat. “For the last couple of weeks my mother's been calling me and barking orders at me for the shower.”

“And…?”

“And I ignored her. It's insulting for someone to make it painfully clear that they have no faith in you. Of course, I set myself up to prove her right by organizing absolutely nothing. The only thing that's been done so far are the invitations.”

“Well, that's something, right?”

“My mother sent them. So, without a doubt there will be ninety of my mother's closest friends and associates at the Ritz Carlton Sunday afternoon. But, as of right now, they'll be showing up to an empty room.”

Will whistled through his teeth. “Have you at least attended a lot of bridal showers?”

“Not since I was younger, and I wasn't paying much attention at the time.”

“I'll tell you one thing, no matter how the shower turns out, your mother would be proud of the way you worked that cocktail party tonight. You met more people at the firm in one evening than I've met in my five years working there. And thanks to you, I'm now on a first-name basis with the head honcho.”

Arm-in-arm, with Mel carrying her shoes, they walked back to Will's apartment. Although Will made good on his promise for a foot massage, he didn't stop with her feet. And it was a good while before they got around to soaking in the hot tub.

M
elody
had just placed the last handwritten place card on the last silver charger plate when the hotel event coordinator rushed up to her.

“A week ago I never would have believed this was possible, but I think we've pulled it off.” The spunky blonde surveyed the room as if it were a miracle. “I just saw your first guests arriving in the lobby.”

Melody reached out and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for all you've done, Sharon. I couldn't have put this shower together at the last minute without you.”

She'd relied heavily on the other woman's professional expertise for details that Mel never would have thought of—like giving out bags of cookies shaped like designer dresses for party favors.

“Thanks to your liberal budget, making last-minute magic was a lot easier. But, I have to give you credit, it's your ideas and creativity that will really impress the bride.”

The artist in Melody had kicked in at the eleventh hour, and she'd actually begun to enjoy the preparations. Using Keenan's bridesmaid dress sketches for inspiration, Mel had stayed up late into the night drawing wispy images of Stephanie and Keenan on six large white art boards. They were now set up around the room on easels as the finishing touch to Melody's fashion-show theme.

In just a few minutes, the first guests would be able to strut down the runway at the entrance to their tables on the other side of the room. At the center of each table was an arty arrangement of handbags and shoes from Stephanie's favorite designers.

Mel hoped against hope that no one would realize they were knockoffs she'd wrangled from street vendors in Times Square.

“Oh, my gosh, everything looks amazing.”

Melody whirled around, discovering, to her relief, that the bride herself was the first to arrive with bridesmaids Lana and Jessica in tow. The models dropped their presents on the gift table and immediately began working the runway, while Stephanie barreled around the head of the T-shaped runway to the seating area where Melody stood.

Within seconds Melody found herself in a crushing hug. “Mother told me not to get my hopes up, but I knew you'd come through for me. You always have. This is just perfect.”

Melody caught Sharon's eye over Stephanie's shoulder. Sharon winked at her, mouthing the words, “I told you,” before slipping out the door.

After that, it was a whirlwind of activity as guests began arriving. Most of the attendees, professional models and amateurs alike, enjoyed making their grand entrance down the runway to the funky hip-hop music playing over the speakers. When they reached the stairs, all the seated guests would applaud and cheer.

Although some shy relatives and older friends of the family chose to sneak around the side, avoiding the runway altogether, overall, Melody heard nothing but raves, confirming that her fashion-show theme was a success.

As she waited at the entrance greeting guests, Melody couldn't help noticing that her mother was conspicuously absent.

Finally, forty-five minutes late, Beverly Rush appeared. She paused, taking everything in, and then deftly took the runway, stopping halfway down to peel of her white suit jacket, revealing her sleeveless crepe top. Slinging the jacket over her shoulder, she switched her hips across the narrow stage and stopped at the end in an elegant flourish.

All the guests rose, giving her a standing ovation. The mother of the bride had arrived.

 

Melody tried to play the good hostess by visiting every table to chat with the guests. By far, the most popular question was who would be her date for the wedding. Trying to keep it light, she offered one outrageous response after another.

“Well, Aunt Thea, my boyfriend Bill was all set to leave his wife until the press started hinting that she'd run for president. Until the media attention dies down, I'll probably have to attend the wedding alone.”

Melody was busy refilling her plate at the buffet table when her sister Vicky rushed over to her. “Now that Mom's finally here, do you want to start the games?”

“Games? What are you talking about?”

Vicky shook her head in frustration. “The shower games. Oh, my God, don't tell me you didn't plan any shower games.”

Melody felt her eyes go wide. “Nobody told me we had to play games. I though we just stuffed our faces and talked for a couple of hours. Then Stephanie opens her gifts, we eat some cake and go home.”

Vicky began to wring her hands. “Everyone is expecting to play at least a game or two. Can't you think of something?”

Melody rolled her eyes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had to attend a bridal shower, let alone any games they might have played.

“I'm not sure this is the right crowd for the games I know how to play.” Refusing to fail now, Mel shoved her plate at Vicky. “This might not be pretty, but I'll see what I can do.”

Standing at the head of the T-shaped runway, Melody clapped her hands to get the room's attention. “Okay, everyone, please take a moment to make sure you have a full glass of punch or champagne in front of you, we're getting ready to play some games.”

 

By five o'clock that evening, the shower was over and guests were filing out of the ballroom. Melody stood at the entrance where she collected accolades for throwing the most lively shower many of them had ever attended.

She felt a little wave of guilt as a tipsy Aunt Thea, singing Snoop Dog's “Drop It Like It's Hot” under her breath, had to be escorted out between her embarrassed daughters.

Stephanie came up behind her, tugging her arm to pull her aside. “That was amazing, but can I ask you a question? Were those drinking games we were playing?”

Melody felt her face flush. “Um…”

They
had
been drinking games, and Mel had been pleasantly surprised at how well they'd gone over. She had each woman competing against the other women at her table for the shoes and handbags in the centerpieces. After three different games, all the prizes had been awarded and the guests were either happy winners or too tipsy to care.

“That's okay, don't tell me,” Stephanie said. “I had a fantastic time. You gave me more than I could ever have hoped for.”

Mel felt her chest swell. Suddenly she wished this event had been less happy accident and more diligent planning. Her sister deserved it. Before she could find the words to express that sentiment to her sister, their mother approached them. Mel had begun to wonder if Beverly was planning to go through the entire shower without acknowledging her.

Melody braced herself. Stephanie, obviously sensing what was coming, tried in vain to direct the conversation. “I was just telling Melody what a wonderful job she did with the shower. Don't you agree, Mother?”

Beverly turned her head and gave the room another once-over. She was smiling, so Mel got suckered into expecting a positive response.

“Yes, well, I just would have hoped that today, of all days, you would have made
some
effort to dress appropriately.” She reached out to finger the mandarin collar of Melody's black jumpsuit.

Melody looked down at her clothes. The form-fitting black jumpsuit was tied off just below her knees, leaving plenty of room to show off her knee-high, shiny black boots. The top was open to the waist, revealing a fuchsia T-shirt with the word
diva
printed across the chest.

She'd even painstakingly piled her hair atop her head just to prove to her mother that it could be done. She'd anchored the elaborate curly updo with a million bobby pins and two fuchsia chop-sticks. She'd thought the look was stylish and hip for a fashion-themed shower.

Melody held up the digital camera hanging around her neck. “I dressed for the theme, Mother. I'm supposed to be a fashion photographer.”

Beverly shook her head. “Speaking of the theme, this is not the traditional Victorian high tea we discussed. Why, I never would have chosen the Ritz Carlton if I'd known you weren't going to do the tea. There are so many other sites better suited to…”

All Melody heard after that was “blah, blah, blah.” She kept telling herself that her mother's approval was something she was never going to get and it was a waste of time even to seek it. She thought she'd learned that lesson when she was eight years old and she'd been awarded first place in the fourth-grade art show.

Her mother had patted her head and offered a tepid, “That's nice, dear, but make sure you focus on subjects that are really important. You can't make a career out of art.” Melody had cried that night, but today her eyes were dry. They stayed dry all the way to Will's apartment.

As he opened the door, a wide smile spread across his face. “Ah, there you are. I thought you were going to call first, but this is much better,” he said, pulling her into his arms for a long, languid kiss.

Melody immediately began to feel desire stirring below. Opening her mouth, she slipped her tongue into his. Then she began pushing him forward, out of the doorway, as she began to tug at the T-shirt tucked into his jeans.

“Whoa, Melody, slow down there. You're starting to make me think you just want me for my body,” he said, reaching around her to shut the apartment door.

In the week since their first encounter, they'd spent nearly every night together. “So what if I do? Is that a problem?” she asked, continuing to tug on his T-shirt.

Will paused for a moment. “No. Not really.” Then he backed up to the sofa and pulled her onto his lap.

Mel felt a wave of satisfaction as she finally got Will's T-shirt over his head.
Did
she just want him for his body? Probably not, but for the moment it was the part of him that held the most interest for her. For a stockbroker/dance instructor his body was solidly packed with muscles. She'd never been with a man with such a hard body before.

She ran her hands over the rippling expanse of chocolate-brown skin. No tattoos. She liked tattoos, but she had to admit that it would be a crime to mar the perfection that was Will's skin.

She found the dark pebbles that were his nipples and let them tickle her palms. Will just leaned back, closed his eyes and let her have complete control.

Melody unsnapped his jeans and pulled at his zipper, but she didn't feel like struggling to take his pants off. So she slid to one side, off his lap and commanded, “Take those off.”

Will complied silently and when he stood before her in just his boxer briefs, Melody took a moment to enjoy the view. “Okay, now those, too.”

He shimmied out of them slowly and then swung them around his finger to add a bit of striptease flare. “Now, what about you?”

“What about me?” She propped her high-heeled boots on the coffee table and splayed her hands.

With a wicked arch of the brow, Will bent to remove her boots. Then he removed her jumpsuit, her T-shirt and her underwear. Taking full advantage of the situation, he rubbed, stroked, caressed and kissed everywhere he bared skin.

By the time Melody was fully nude before him, her body was humming with anticipation. She loved the feel of his rough masculine hands on the soft skin of her body. Everywhere he touched, he left her aching for more.

Finally, she straddled him. “Be still,” she commanded, trying to regain the upper hand.

Bending her head, she molded her mouth over his, inserting her tongue to kiss him in a way that she knew made him crazy.

When she felt his hands grip her bottom urgently and heard that telling moan of pleasure, she knew she was back in charge. The only problem was that the feel of his naked body, smooth skin encasing steely muscle, was getting the best of her, too.

It was so hard to think when she could smell his musky scent and hear his rapid breathing. Nothing turned her on more than knowing that she was wanted.

“Melody,” Will gasped as his fingers found her sensitive core.

All control slipped away as passion spiked inside her. “Oh, Will, now. I need you now.”

Will groped for the jumbo box of condoms that was still sitting on the coffee table from their trip to the drug store a few days ago.

When he was ready, Melody moved herself into position to lower herself onto him. As he filled her up, she slid her arms around his neck and clung to him.

With his strong hands guiding her bottom, she rocked, rolled and writhed, releasing all of her tensions into the moment.

Holding nothing back, she tilted her face to the ceiling and cried out her pleasure. Will began thrusting upward aggressively. Melody knew her uninhibited sounds drove him over the edge of excitement.

As she began to grow tired, Will stood, holding her against him. He laid her on her back on the couch and continued thrusting.

Gratification hit Melody suddenly like a powerful blow. Her body slammed against the cushions, her back arched. “Will!” she yelled, feeling her body convulse with an intense pleasure.

Will was already in the throes of his own satisfaction, as he buried his face in her neck and sighed against her. Quiet and neat. Just like the man.