Heart's Reward. Donna HillЧитать онлайн книгу.
had been to her share of high-class soirees—from Paris to the Caribbean, rubbing elbows with athletes, billionaires, movie and television stars, corporate moguls and media-shy executives. But it was always a treat to be in the company of real power, the political machine that made the decisions about everything from health care to appointments to the Supreme Court. There was an unmistakable energy that emanated from the men and women in politics that could be found nowhere else in the world. For Melanie, it was a definite turn on.
Tonight the party was being hosted by the newly named American ambassador to Spain, which decidedly influenced the evening’s décor, entertainment and menu.
Alan escorted his small entourage through security and took them into the grand ballroom. When Alan said black tie, he wasn’t kidding. The men were decked out in tuxedos, some with tails and cummerbunds. The women perfectly complemented their escorts’ attire in cocktail dresses and evening gowns. But it was the jewelry that competed for attention, sparkling from ears, wrists and throats with enough joint wattage to light up the heavens.
Melanie preferred cocktail dresses over full-length gowns. She had great legs and used every opportunity to show them off. Tonight she’d chosen a bronze Vera Wang dress that was so close to her natural skin tone that she almost appeared naked were it not for the rhinestone appliqué that framed her décolletage. Her stilettos, in a matching color, accentuated her five-foot-nine height. The dress hugged her upper body, dipped dangerously low in the back and flared from the waist to just above her knees.
A trio of Spanish guitarists played in the background as the wait staff, outfitted in traditional dress, moved in and around the well-heeled crowd.
“You probably know a lot of these people,” Alan said as he and Melanie made their way across the room, nodding and smiling at familiar faces.
Vincent had taken his wife, sister and cousin to get drinks while Alan and Melanie mingled.
Alan lifted his chin. “There’s Claude over by the balcony talking to the attorney general.”
Melanie followed the direction of Alan’s gaze and spotted Claude. Perhaps it was the timing, a sixth sense or kismet, but he turned his head in her direction at the very moment she focused on him.
A sudden rush like that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when the roller coaster drops down from its highest point at breakneck speed swept through her. Air shot up from her lungs and lodged in the center of her chest. His eyes, as dark and mysterious as the edge of the universe, held her in place. The barest hint of a smile teased his mouth and her before he gave her an imperceptible nod and turned back to his conversation.
Claude Montgomery was a standout in any room. There was a commanding air about him, a swagger that amplified his deep chocolate skin, broad chest and long legs. Wearing an Armani tux, Claude Montgomery was damn-near edible. He was a shoe-in for Idris Elba’s better-looking brother. Whoever was lucky enough to land him was in for a treat—at least in the looks department. She’d have a better idea once they did his profile. In the meantime she needed to regain her composure and quit imagining herself naked in his bed.
“Come on. I’ll introduce you,” Alan said, oblivious to the shift in her world that had just taken place.
The last time Melanie was nervous about meeting a man was in fifth grade when she got called into Principal Harrison’s office for starting a hunger strike in the lunchroom to protest the lousy food. That was a long time ago. But she hadn’t forgotten the racing pulse, wobbly knees and damp palms.
As they approached, the conversation drew to an end when the attorney general was pulled away by his wife.
Claude deposited his empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter. His broad smile was in full effect as he extended his hand to Alan.
“Good to see you, Al,” he said, shaking his hand heartily while slapping him on the back with the other.
They both turned to Melanie and there was that look again that seemed to suck her into his soul.
“Claude, this is my sister Melanie. Mel, Claude Montgomery.”
The seas parted and disappeared into the background. It was only the two of them waiting to cross that great divide.
Melanie reacted first. “Alan has been singing your praises,” she said, extending her hand toward him.
Claude took her slender fingers in his hand and brought them to his lips. He placed a feather-like kiss on the back of her hand. “Your reputation precedes you,” he said, his voice low and throbbing like distant thunder.
“I do hope that’s a good thing,” she said forcing herself not to concentrate on the currents of electricity that shot up and down her arm.
“Most definitely. Can I get you a drink?”
“Thank you. Yes.”
He raised his hand and signaled for a waiter, who was at their side almost instantly. He plucked a glass of champagne from the tray and handed it to her.
“Thank you.” She took a tiny sip. “Alan says you’re chief of staff for Senator Lawson. I’m surprised we haven’t met before.”
“I try to stay away from these shindigs whenever possible,” he said with a gleam in his eyes. Melanie grinned.
“I’ll let you two get acquainted. I’m going to look for my son and company,” Alan pressed Melanie’s shoulder and walked off.
“So, Alan tells me that you are the consummate matchmaker.”
Melanie lowered her gaze for a moment. “That’s the rumor,” she answered, her tone teasing. “And I understand that you may be interested in our services.”
Claude drew in a long breath. “I’ve been considering it for a while now,” he said, the levity gone from his voice. “My job takes up a great deal of my time and I believe I’m reaching the point where I’d like to come home to more than paperwork, my BlackBerry and cognac.”
Hmm, he likes cognac. A man with taste.
“I see. Believe me, I totally understand. If I didn’t know better I’d think I was talking to my brother.”
Claude chuckled. “I don’t think Alan will ever settle down again. He lives and breathes his job.”
“Tell me, what type of woman are you looking for?”
His deep gaze played across her face, like the sun warming the earth, and something stirred inside of her.
“There you are.”
They turned in unison to see Senator Lawson come up beside them.
“Melanie. Melanie Harte?”
Melanie beamed. “How are you Bradford?”
He captured her in a hug. “I had no idea you’d be here. What a pleasant surprise.”
“It’s good to see you, too.”
“I knew her grandmother, God rest her sweet soul. I watched this little lady grow up. Her grandmother introduced me to my late wife Louisa and the rest is history,” he ended with a wistful chuckle. He lowered his voice. “I understand you took over the business.”
Melanie nodded. “I did, along with my nieces and nephew.”
“Wonderful! We’ll have to talk before the night is over. I want you to meet my son Rafe.” He looked around. “If you’ll excuse me, I want to catch Senator Morgan before he tries to slip out.” He lightly bussed Melanie’s cheek. “Don’t leave before we talk.”
“I won’t,” she promised, squeezing his hand.
The newest Supreme Court justice walked by and waved at Melanie.
“Congratulations,” Melanie mouthed.
“Call me,” she said in return before being swept into a crowd of senators vying for her attention.