Heart's Reward

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“We can say no based on his interview,” Veronica said.

“I don’t think Senator Lawson is someone we want to offend. After all, Grandma Harte found him his wife.”

They all hummed in agreement.

“How bad can he be?” Jessica asked.

Melanie didn’t want to let on that Rafe had all but tried to openly seduce her. She could handle him without involving them. And she didn’t want her assessment to interfere with their evaluation.

“Let’s just say that his reputation as a consummate flirt and certified playboy may very well be warranted. However, that won’t keep us from doing the best job possible for our paying clients. Besides, I’d love to be able to say TPS made the match for playboy Lawson.” She folded her arms and grinned.

“From the little I’ve turned up on him so far, his string of broken hearts is long and illustrious,” Veronica said. “He’s been tied to damn near everyone but the Queen of England.”

They all shared a laugh.

“Busy man,” Vincent said absently, returning his attention to his computer screen, which detailed the current expenditures and income. “We’re really in solid shape,” he added. “If Mr. Lawson did become the ‘exception,’ his loss wouldn’t cause a blip on my screen.” He tapped the screen with his index finger and glanced at all of them with a self-satisfied smile. “Besides, the investments that I’ve made on our behalf throughout the years have made each of us contemptuously wealthy. We only took a minor hit with the economic meltdown. We’re in good shape.”

Melanie winked at her nephew. She turned her attention to Veronica. “We’ll want to get both of the profiles done as soon as possible. Unfortunately for us, both of our clients have very erratic schedules.”

“I understand. It’s my top priority. I’ve entered all of Mr. Montgomery’s info into the databank. Then I’ll flip it to the personality software program. I should have a pretty good picture rather soon.”

“Great.” Melanie pushed up from her seat and stood. “I’m going to get back to my party list. Let me know when Mr. Lawson arrives.” She returned to her office and attempted to get back to where she’d left off. Her annual holiday party was the event of the season at the Harbor. Everyone who was anyone was in attendance. It was always a spectacular affair and plenty of fun, but it was quite the task to put it all together.

She continued compiling her list from her electronic address book, and her thoughts continued to drift to Claude. Her fingers slowed then stopped as she found herself staring out the window, watching the late-day waves crash against the shore. It was serene and turbulent all at once. The overhanging muted orange of the impending evening created a feeling of solitude, an aloneness within her. And Melanie realized with a start that it was what she was feeling inside, and meeting Claude had stirred the lonely beast within her.

Melanie shook her head, dispelling the images and the marauding thoughts. Since when had she become so reflective? She laughed lightly and crossed the room to the small cabinet built into the wall. She opened the wood door and took out a bottle of white wine and a glass. Returning to the window she sat down on the cushioned bench, tucked herself into the corner and sipped her wine. She leaned back against the embracing frame and momentarily closed her eyes, savoring the flavor of the wine.

One day she would turn the business over to the family, she mused, the way it had been done for generations. She’d be much older, hopefully wiser and comfortably wealthy and she wondered if she’d wind up spending her sunset years alone.

A light knock on her door scattered her thoughts.

“Yes, come in.”

Jessica stuck her head in the door. “Mr. Lawson just arrived,” she said, her eyes sparkling and a commercial perfect smile flashing. “He’s gorgeous,” she gushed. “His pictures do him no justice.”

Melanie smiled benignly. If nothing else could be said about Rafe Lawson it was that he was worth the time spent looking at him.

Melanie put her glass down but didn’t get up. “Very good. Get him settled and get started. Let me know when he’s ready to leave.’

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Aren’t you going to come and say hello?”

Melanie pressed her lips together before speaking. “Ill be sure to see him before he leaves.”

Jessica frowned for a moment but knew better than to push her aunt. She shrugged her left shoulder and backed out of the door.

Melanie exhaled slowly. She knew from her first meeting with Raford Lawson that it would be best for all concerned if she limited her contact with him. However, Rafe was used to getting what he wanted and moments later he made his wants clear. Veronica was at the door.

“Yes, come in.”

“Aunt Mel,” she began as a tight line of annoyance tugged her brows closer together. “Mr. Lawson insists on only dealing with you.” She planted her hands on her hips.

“Did you tell him I was busy?”

“Of course. And I told him that you don’t deal with preparing the profile—I do. He acted like I’d told him the biggest joke.”

Melanie bit back a smile. She knew how seriously her family took their jobs and Veronica in particular.

Melanie switched off her computer. “I’ll be right out. Have him wait for me in the small conference room and ask Evan to bring us some refreshments, please.”

Veronica huffed and did as she was asked.

Melanie opened her desk drawer, took out her compact and dabbed away the shine from her nose, added a splash of lipstick, then went out to join Mr. Lawson.

When she walked across the wide foyer to the intimate office space that only comfortably sat four, she found Raford with his back to her perusing the artwork on the muted candy-apple-red walls.

He turned at the sound of her heels on the inlaid wood floors. His smile was slow and devastating, darkening his molasses-colored eyes even as they lit up the room and zeroed in on her.

This was the casual playboy in front of her—not the distinguished gentleman from the embassy. Gone was the formal tuxedo, replaced today with a chocolate-colored cotton-knit sweater over a pair of jeans and Italian loafers the color of his sweater. A platinum watch peeked out from the cuff of his sleeve and a tiny diamond stud sparkled in his ear. The heady, manly scent of his very expensive cologne drew her into the room and wrapped around her in a welcoming embrace.

Melanie swallowed over the dry knot in her throat, then boldly strode forward, hand extended. “Mr. Lawson, I understand you’re giving my team a hard time,” she said, the hint of a reprimanding smile teasing her mouth.

He grinned as he took her hand. “First, my daddy is Mr. Lawson, or Senator as he often prefers to be called—even by his children,” he added, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He brushed his thumb seductively across her knuckles, sending a shiver up her arm. He brought her hand to his lips and placed a feathery light kiss on it, his eyes never leaving hers. When he lifted his head, he said to her, “Everyone calls me Rafe, even my enemies,” he added with a chuckle.

Melanie eased her hand from his grasp. “I can’t imagine you having enemies, not with all that charm you ooze.”

Rafe tossed his head back and laughed full out, a deep and warm sound. “I see we’re going to get along just fine.”

“I’m sure we will,” she said as Evan quietly placed a tray of fruit, crackers and imported cheeses on the table and exited as stealthily as he’d entered. “Our goal at The Platinum Society is to treat every client as if they were the only one. Which is why I can assure you that you won’t have any problems and will get the best attention from my team. They are all experts at what they do.”

Rafe picked a slice of pineapple off the tray and popped it into his mouth, chewing softly. “I was hoping that you and I would be going over the details.”

“I’m afraid not. Once the assessment is done, I’ll review it with the team and make my recommendations. At that point, you and I will meet again.”

The corner of his mouth curved upward. “Well, if talking to your team will quicken you and me talking again, then let’s get started.”

Melanie’s stomach knotted for a moment. “Rafe, we need to be clear. I don’t mix up my business with my personal life and I don’t see clients outside of the office.”

Rafe stepped up to her, clouding her brain with his scent. “Cher, don’t take yourself so seriously. I would never want you to compromise your ethics. Is that what you thought?” His brow arched. His sarcastic question hung in the air, taunting her.

She ran her tongue lightly across her dry lips. “The team is waiting.”

“Lead the way.”

Melanie turned to head out and could feel him cataloging every inch of her. For good measure she put a little more sway in her hips. Let him get a good look at what he’d never have.

Jessica and Veronica were waiting for them in the main office.

Rafe turned to Melanie at the door. “Will I see you before I leave?”

The tone of his question, soft, almost tender, stroked her center like a single finger trailing across her skin.

“If I’m done with my own work, I’ll be sure to say goodbye. In the meantime, try to behave yourself.” Before he could respond, she walked away, closing the door gently behind her.

Melanie returned to her private office and sealed herself away, determined to get her list in order. But the exercise was initially futile. Images of Claude then Rafe danced through her head. What she needed was a man of her own so that she could stop salivating over men she would have to turn over to other women.

More than two hours later, Melanie had finally made some serious headway with her list and moved on to sketching out the menu, theme and entertainment. Humming to herself, her brief moment of self-satisfaction was interrupted by Jessica at the door. Melanie turned away from her computer and realized that evening had fully descended upon the island. In the distance from her window she could see the yellow dots of lights begin to fill the windows of the homes on the bluff. She stretched. “Come on in Jess,” she said over a muffled yawn.

Jessica stepped partially in. “We’re done. Mr. Lawson wanted to say good-night.”

I bet he does, Melanie thought. She got up, adjusted her top and followed Jessica out. Rafe was standing in the grand foyer in an animated conversation with Vincent. Melanie approached.

The two men turned in her direction. A smile moved Rafe’s mouth.

“I hope the interview process wasn’t too difficult,” she said when she came to a stop in front of the duo.

Rafe chuckled. “I was just telling Vincent that your team could get a job with the FBI any day.”

Her right brow flickered in amusement. “Yes, they are very good at what they do.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing who you’ll come up with to fit the bill.”

Melanie extended her hand. “We’ll be in touch.”

He clasped her hand in his. “I’ll give you a call when I get back to New York—in about a week.”

“Fine. Safe travels.”

He released her hand and Vincent walked him to the door, clapping him heartily on the back before returning to the women.

“Should we meet now?” Jessica asked, “Or do we want to wait until tomorrow?” She looked from one face to the other.

“We may as well run through everything now and make our decision,” Melanie said, knowing that her real motivation was that she could rationally convince herself that Claude—and Rafe for that matter—were clients and nothing more. Some other woman’s dream come true. She inhaled deeply and released a breath of resolve. “Let’s do this.”

Claude let his Harley rev down to a soft purr and coasted into his Westchester estate driveway. It wasn’t often that he had a chance to ride, take his bike out and run her full throttle. But when opportunity presented itself, he took it.

There was a lone light coming from the ground-floor window of his two-story Tudor. His housekeeper, Lin, always left a light on when she knew he’d be coming home. The small gesture took some of the edge off of coming home to an empty house. The upside was he generally was only here maybe two weeks out of the month. The rest of the time he was either in Albany or in D.C., where the work and rigorous hours ensured his being alone. There were women. There were always women to take the chill off of lonely nights. But he had yet to find someone that he wanted to be with beyond a few meals at great restaurants and uncomplicated sex. In his world it took a certain kind of woman to understand the demands of his life. So for the most part he kept his relationships few and far between. It was simpler that way.

After changing into his workout clothes, he went downstairs to his home gym in the basement, loaded with the latest exercise equipment that could easily rival the most upscale gym.

He put in at least an hour three days per week. It not only kept him in peak physical condition, but also kept his mind sharp and his hormones at a manageable level. After a good workout and a hot shower, Claude settled down in front of the television and tuned into his favorite news show, MSNBC. Rachel Maddow was interviewing the Health and Human Services Secretary on the health reform bill.

He leaned back and tried to focus on the discussion, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his afternoon in Sag Harbor. Jessica and Veronica didn’t leave a pebble unturned during the interview. They’d all but taken notes about his life starting in the womb. He chuckled at the memory and wondered who they would find for him. What woman would be his perfect match? Someone like Melanie Harte, a distant voice whispered in his head. She would be ideal. Beautiful, intelligent, sexy, well-traveled and powerful in her own right—a devastating combination. He wondered if Melanie had a man in her life, and if so, what was he like? What did he do for a living? And the million dollar question: How did she feel about him?

A sudden clap of thunder startled him out of his mind games and none too soon. His imagination was on the verge of taking him someplace he didn’t need to go. Melanie Harte was not an option.

Claude crossed the room to the window and closed it. He stood in front of the arched panes of glass as the heavens lit up with a burst of brilliant white light, illuminating the sky.

The ringing phone drew his attention from the spectacle of light. He picked up the phone from the end table and recognized the cell number right away.

“Traci…how are you?”

Her laughter filled the phone lines. “Don’t you simply hate technology and what it has done to the element of surprise? I’m fine. Better than fine and I’m in town for a few days. I was hoping we could get together if you’re going to be around.”

“Where are you staying?”

“The Marriott in midtown. Lucked out and got a suite.”

He and Traci had met about five, six years earlier when he was at the U.N. conference with the senator. Traci was an attaché and spent most of her time traveling, as well. Never married, career politico with aspirations to run for office. Smart, easy on the eyes and low maintenance.

Claude glanced at the clock. Almost eight. He listened to the ping of the rain bouncing off the windows. An hour drive into the city and then back. What the hell. He could use some uncomplicated company. “Late dinner?”

“Sounds great. I’ll meet you in the bar whenever you get here. The restaurant closes at eleven but…room service is available until two.”

Her offer was clear. If he decided to stay, it wouldn’t be a problem.

“I’ll see you soon.” He hung up the phone and prepared for the rest of his night.

Claude strode into the lobby of the Marriot shortly after nine-thirty. As usual for midtown Manhattan hotels, the lobby, the bar and the restaurant were pulsing with activity. He slipped out of his black linen jacket and draped it over his arm as he wound his way around the bustling bodies and headed in the direction of the bar.

He spotted her before she saw him. Her fiery red hair with sunset highlights was like a beacon, falling in a tumble of silken waves to her bare shoulders. She wore black, as he did. Her snuggly fitted dress hugged every inch of her, at least the few inches that were covered by fabric. She was in an animated conversation with a man who seemed intent on discovering what she may have hidden between her very inviting cleavage that rose above the scoop neck top of her dress.

Claude smiled. Traci was still being her devilish self. He moved into her line of sight and when she spotted him, her emerald-green eyes lit up like fireworks. She put down her glass, patted her conversation companion on the shoulder and walked away, leaving him with his mouth hanging open.

“Claude.” She walked right up to him, slid her arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips.

He hooked one arm around her narrow waist and pulled her tight against him for a quick trip down memory lane before breaking the kiss. “I would ask how you’re doing, but I can tell you’re doing just fine.”

Traci laughed and linked her fingers with Claude’s. “Girl has to have some fun. I’m starved. How about you?”

He thought of the plate Lin had fixed and left in the oven that he’d never had a chance to touch. “Me, too.”

“Good. Come on.”

“So, catch me up. How is life in the fast lane?” Traci asked as she cut into her steak.

“Well, you know the senator has his hands in as many pots as the law allows. He’s chair of two major committees and sits on a half dozen others. My plate stays full.” He chewed on his forkful of steak, which nearly melted in his mouth.

“Do you think it was the job or the whole black, white thing that kept us from getting together?” Traci asked casually.