Heart's Reward
He draped his arm along the back of the seat and drummed his long fingers against the firm surface. He hated these introspective moments, those times when all of the scolding, threats and warnings from his family stirred his conscience. In those moments he came face to face with the pointlessness of the life that he led.
His father was a powerful senator, his sister Lee Ann had the education, skills and family lineage to move into politics. The twins, when they weren’t trying to spend the family fortune, were both involved in philanthropy. His brother Justin was being primed for the political arena. Rafe’s unambitious lifestyle went against everything that the Lawson family stood for.
“Much as I loved your mother, God rest her soul, she spoiled you rotten, boy. Doted on you like you were the king of damned England and enabled all of your philandering ways,” Bradford Lawson had said, glaring at his son with the same vehemence that he reserved for his opponents on the senate floor.
Rafe endured the periodic tongue-lashing from his father with practiced chagrin. There was probably some truth to what his father said, although he would never admit it to him. His beloved mother had been his rock, the only one in the family who understood him. She knew how to rein him in without holding him in place.
God he missed her. There was an emptiness in his soul since she’d been gone and he filled it with one woman after another, wild parties, good liquor and tabloid-worthy adventures. For a while the space would be filled, but inevitably the emptiness would return.
Maybe his father was right. Maybe he did need a good woman in his life to help him settle down. And his thoughts shifted to Melanie.
She was different from the other women he had known and bedded. She couldn’t care less who he was. She was independent and didn’t appear to need the arm of a man to make herself look good or feel important. She already was—all qualities that were rare in the women he saw. Melanie Harte.
“You’re smiling again,” his date said, cutting into his thoughts. He turned from the window and realized that she was sitting right by his side. “I thought I’d done something to upset you.”
His smile wavered and held. He stretched a finger toward her chin and gently lifted it. Yes, she had beautiful eyes and kissable lips. He remembered now. Her name was Stephanie. His gaze caressed her slightly over-made-up face. He leaned forward and pressed his lips toward her kissable ones. She sighed ever so softly.
“Should we bring the wine up to your place?” he said against her mouth. He felt her body loosen with delighted relief.
The idea that he was the source of her happiness, real or imagined, only helped to reaffirm his mantra. He couldn’t disappoint a woman. After all, he was a southern gentleman.
The car pulled to a stop in front of Stephanie’s building on Park Avenue. The driver opened the door. Rafe stepped out first and helped Stephanie to her feet. He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to his side.
She laughed and it was the music that always made him weak, made him dance—the sound of a woman’s laughter.
He walked behind her as the building doorman greeted her. She turned, her smile bright and her eyes inviting.
His dimple appeared. The elevator door closed behind them. He’d let Melanie Harte try to reform him tomorrow.
Chapter 3
When Melanie walked into her office the following day, the team had already assembled. No matter how appealing a client might be or how much money they had, it was protocol that the decision to take on a new client was unanimous.
“Hey, Aunt Mel,” the trio said in unison.
“Morning, troops.” She set her cup of coffee on the side table. “Everyone have a good time last night?”
“Absolutely,” they agreed.
Melanie took a sip of her coffee and settled down on the overstuffed couch. Her office was an eclectic blend of functionality and comfort. Her high-tech equipment was housed inside floor-to-ceiling wooden cabinets that were rolled out for use. The video screen was mounted on the wall for full presentations of clients and their prospects. The bay windows looked out onto the bluffs and ocean beyond. Pale peach walls were adorned with one-of-a-kind pieces of art. Glass and chrome were the focal accessories, with conversational seating throughout. Fresh flowers graced the tables, shipped in weekly from the florist. This was TPS central, where all of the decisions were made.
“I’ve done some preliminary work on Mr. Montgomery and Mr. Lawson,” Veronica said, “based on observation and what I was able to pull from the Internet. I’ll have a full profile of each once we set up the meeting.”
“You certainly didn’t waste any time,” Melanie said. “Let’s see what you have so far.”
Veronica pressed a button on the console and the screen lit up. The first screen was filled with basic data about Claude and Rafe—date of birth, physicality, where they lived, profession, education and relationship status.
Melanie stared at the near life-sized images of Claude and felt her body come alive in response. She knew she’d have to keep her lusty thoughts to herself if she was going to be effective in finding a suitable match for him.
The sound of male voices coming in their direction drew everyone’s attention. Moments later Alan stuck his head in the door.
“I thought I smelled smoke,” Alan joked. “All this brain power brushing up against each other like kindling.”
“Very funny,” Melanie said.
“I brought company.”
Claude stepped into the frame of the door. “Good morning.”
“Morning.”
Melanie’s heart banged in her chest and a sudden rush of heat flooded her body. She shifted in her seat, reached for her coffee cup, realized her hands were shaking and changed her mind. She folded her hands in her lap.
“He insisted that I stop by today,” Claude explained. “I told him I should have called first for an appointment.” He was talking to everyone in the room, but his gaze had settled on Melanie.
Her throat was bone dry.
“Not a problem,” Jessica said. “Roni was just going over your preliminaries.”
“Was she?” Claude’s brows rose in question. “And what might those be?”
“Basic data,” Veronica said matter of factly. In addition to being the profiler of the business, Veronica was an Internet and computer whiz. If there was a grain of sand to be found, Veronica would find it. She had search programs and software that Melanie didn’t want to know anything about. Google was archaic as far as Veronica was concerned.
“It’s all protocol,” Melanie said, finally finding her voice. “We build a profile on all of our clients. It’s how we make an appropriate match.”
Claude crossed the room. Melanie caught a subtle whiff of his scent. Her pulse fluttered. He sat down in one of the matching side chairs.
“Sounds very…calculated, for lack of a better word.”
“Part calculation, part chemistry,” Jessica offered.
“Our responsibility is to match the wants and desires, intelligence and personality of two people, and ask all the questions that two people who are attracted to each other never ask until it’s too late.”
Claude stretched his long legs out in front of him. Alan clapped him heartily on the shoulder. “They’re really pretty harmless,” he teased.
Claude glanced up at his friend. “You sure? I sorta feel like a science project.”
“Once we match you up with the woman of your dreams, you’ll forget all about this technical stuff,” Melanie said with a wave of her hand.
Claude zeroed in on Melanie. “Is that a promise?” His eyes moved across her face, heating everywhere they landed.
Melanie slowly stood. “You’re in very good hands.” She picked up her mug and walked out. Alan followed.
“Thanks for doing this, sis.”
“Sure. Business is business. Claude seems like a good guy. I’m sure we’ll find someone for him.”
Melanie caught the serious tone in his voice. She looked across at her brother. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing that you won’t find out.”
Melanie stopped walking and folded her arms. “If there’s something I need to know, tell me, Alan.”
Alan inhaled deeply. He dug his hands into his pants pockets. “About ten years ago, Claude was engaged. On his wedding day, his fiancé’s limo was in an accident on her way to the church.” He looked down.
Melanie’s hand went to her chest. “Oh, I…I’m sorry.” Her eyes flew toward her office. She could see Claude in conversation with the team, fully engaged, laughing and nodding. Her spirit ached. She knew all too well about that kind of loss, the emptiness that was left behind. After Steven she had her grandmother and her mother to pull her through and then the business. Who had been there for Claude? Had he ever found closure? Was his job all he had? The questions nagged at her like an itch in the center of your back—difficult to get to.
“He’s not like me. He’s more than his job,” Alan said as if reading her thoughts. He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’m going to run into town. Buzz me on my cell when your team has finished picking my man apart.” He winked and strode out, leaving Melanie with thoughts of Claude swirling in her head.
Melanie was in her sitting room, putting together the list of potential guests for her annual Summer Jam. Claude left several hours earlier with Alan and was given the assurance that TPS would be in touch with him shortly. Vincent logged in Claude’s $25,000 deposit and created a file for him. Jessica and Veronica were busy putting together a complete profile of Claude based on their extensive interview.
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep her mind on the task at hand. Her thoughts and unsettled emotions kept getting in the way. Giving into her frustration, she closed the social calendar software program on her computer with the intention of getting a light snack. Just as she got up, her office phone rang. It was nearly five o’clock, the official end of the business day, she thought, mildly annoyed. She started to let it go to voicemail when she thought about the mantra of her business. “It’s never too late or too early to deal with a paying or potential client.”
“The Platinum Society, Melanie Harte speaking,” she answered in her cheerful professional voice.
“I would think you would have someone else doing the mundane task of answering the phone,” the definitively male voice said, the slight Creole accent unmistakably that of Rafe Lawson. “However, I couldn’t be happier that it’s you.”
“Mr. Lawson.” She sat back down.
He chuckled. “Ah, the lady remembers.”
“I tend not to forget names, faces and voices.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m picking up where we left off. My father is insistent that I find myself a suitable woman who can make an honest man out of me. You indicated that you were up for the challenge.”
“My company,” she clarified, not wanting to head off in the wrong direction.
“Of course.” He breathed into the phone. “So…where do we begin?”
“I’ll switch you over to Jessica, and she’ll set up an appointment.”
“I’m leaving for the West Coast tomorrow afternoon. I hope you can slip me in before then.”
His statement sounded innocent enough, but Melanie didn’t miss the sexual innuendo. She chose to ignore it.
“If there is a time slot, I’m sure we will accommodate you.”
“Actually it would only take a little over an hour to drive out there. You’re in Sag Harbor?”
“You’ve done your homework.”
“I like to know who I’m getting in bed with…so to speak.”
Melanie’s body flushed. “Hold on a moment.” She placed the call on hold and pressed the button for the main office. Veronica picked up.
“Hey Aunt Mel, what’s up?”
“I have Raford Lawson on the line. He wants an appointment as soon as possible. He’s leaving to go out of town tomorrow afternoon.”
“Let me check with Jess.”
Melanie tapped her manicured nails against the table while she waited.
“We can see him this evening if he’s really insistent or first thing tomorrow at nine.”
“Thanks. I’ll get right back to you.”
She took Raford off hold. “Tonight at seven or tomorrow morning at nine. Your choice.”
“The sooner the better. I’ll see you shortly.” He hung up without saying goodbye, a testament to his arrogance.
Slowly Melanie hung up the receiver. Her gut told her that Raford Lawson was going to be a handful of trouble. And she was just the one to put him in his place, even if he was a senator's son.
Chapter 4
Melanie called an impromptu meeting with the team after she got off the phone with Raford. They all sat around the conference table and waited for Melanie to bring them up to speed.
“As you all know, Raford Lawson will be here this evening. From the brief conversations I’ve had with him, he’ll be a challenge for lack of a better word. And not because he is unmatchable, but because he seems to believe that this is all a game and he’s doing this to appease his father.”
“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.”