He glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s almost five-thirty. Why don’t you take off early?” he teased, knowing full well she usually didn’t leave the office until well after six most nights. “You deserve the break.”
Take off early and do what, she wondered. Her nights were so routine and boring it was pathetic—pick up fast food on the way home, eat it while watching Entertainment Tonight, take a shower, slip into comfy pj’s, check in with her dad, then watch TV or read a book until she fell asleep. Occasionally, on the weekend, she’d go out to dinner and movie with a friend, nothing overly exciting or wild. Then again, having been raised by a police sergeant, she’d never strayed from what was expected of her—discreet, proper behavior, in public and in private.
“Even Joelle enjoys the benefits of leaving on time,” he said, gesturing to the office with its lights out for the evening.
“Joelle has a handsome husband to go home to,” she countered.
Noah feigned a shocked look. “You mean to tell me that you don’t have some hot guy waiting for you to get home at night so he can ravish you?”
Didn’t she wish. She rolled her eyes at his exaggeration. “Hardly, and you’re a big tease.”
“Well, here’s a little tip for you.” He leaned close, as if sharing a well-kept secret, and gave the tip of her braid a mischievous tug. “You’re not going to find Mr. Right spending all your time here.”
Melodie blinked, unsure whether to take his remark as a subtle warning about his brother, a little friendly advice, or if he was just humoring her with his usual fun-loving nature.
He strolled toward the front door. “No matter how you spend the evening, have a good one, sweet stuff.” With a playful wink over his broad shoulder, he was gone.
Sweet. The word grated on her sensible nerves, and her lips pursed as if she’d just swallowed something sour. She was tired of being thought of as sweet. Sure, being polite and courteous had its time and place, but she was beginning to realize that being amiable had gotten her absolutely nowhere with men. She’d always been prudent and modest, and as a result her life was boring, tedious and so very predictable.
She was tired of being good, of always doing the right thing and making levelheaded choices. She had nothing substantial to show for her exemplary behavior and discerning ways—no social life other than a few close friends, no steady dates and certainly no sex life, either. At twenty-eight, she definitely wasn’t having fun. She was turning into an old maid while wishing she had the nerve to be hip and contemporary, someone worldly and wise when it came to men and relationships.
Bracing her elbows on her desk, she propped her chin in her palm and allowed a smile to curl the corners of her mouth as she imagined how much fun being bad would be for a change. To break out of the monotonous pattern her life had become. To assert herself and go for what she wanted. No holds barred.
What she wanted was Cole Sommers and the chance to show him how much she’d learned about the business over the years, and the perfect opportunity had presented itself in the form of him needing a woman. She might not be sexy or a stunning beauty, but she was intelligent and knew the investigative business better than most. Certainly being familiar with the Russell case had to account for a few extra points in her favor, as well.
Excitement and anticipation rolled through Melodie as a plan formed in her mind, and when Cole entered the reception area a few moments later, she was mentally prepared to fight for this case—and her man.
“Here’s the new file on the Russell case.” Stopping in front of her desk, he set the folder in an empty wire basket, his demeanor strictly business. “Once you have the initial report and client invoice typed up, I’d like the file back. This evening, if possible. I have a few things I need to follow up on early tomorrow morning.”
“Consider it done.” Another late night at the office—by her own choice, she knew. It was a precedent she’d set of her own accord, so she couldn’t blame Cole for assuming what had become routine on her part. She loved her job, but there was no denying she craved more excitement and adventure than typing up a report could provide.
He turned back around to leave, and she abruptly stood up before she lost the nerve to address him. “Cole?” His name escaped her on a breathless note.
Slowly, he faced her again, regarding her with a casual kind of directness she’d grown used to. Yet there was something in the depth of his blue eyes that made her heartbeat quicken in her chest and her knees feel weak.
“Yes?” he asked, his curt tone dissolving whatever awareness and warmth she’d seen in his expression a moment ago.
She’d never felt intimidated by Cole’s size, but his presence in front of her suddenly seemed very overwhelming. He was a tall, powerfully built man and possessed a potent combination of virile strength, rugged allure and understated confidence. Lean and muscular, he was all male—from his thick, tousled sable hair, to the knit shirt that molded to his broad chest, and fitted khaki trousers that defined his hard thighs and long, sturdy legs. Definitely a candidate for the strong, gorgeous, silent type, and attracted her like no other.
A bout of anxiety knotted in her belly and her throat closed up tight. She swallowed hard, reminding herself that nothing risked equaled nothing gained—words she planned to embrace from this moment on if she didn’t want to live the rest of her life like a nun. “I heard you and Noah talking about the Russell case and your comment about needing a woman to accompany you to Thornton’s charity auction.”
He blinked, his features taking on a curious edge tinged with a bit of caution. “Do you know someone in the business who could help me out?”
“Well, sort of.” Her fingers twisted together at her waist, a nervous habit she’d developed as a young girl, and she consciously pried her hands apart and set them at her sides. “I do have a solution to your problem.”
“You do?” he asked in surprise, his rich tone dropping an octave.
She nodded succinctly, inhaled a deep breath to bolster her fortitude, and blurted, “Let me be the woman you need.”
His dark brows rose a good half inch on his forehead and his entire body grew tense. “Excuse me?”
Her face flushed warmly at her slip. She hadn’t meant to sound as though she was propositioning him. “For the charity auction,” she rushed to clarify.
He shifted on his feet, the suggestion seemingly making him very uncomfortable. “I don’t think so.” His voice was low and thick.
“Why not?” She’d been taught by her father never to question or dispute a voice of authority, and while a part of her was shocked at her own out-spoken behavior, she couldn’t deny that the freedom to be assertive felt liberating.
Bracing his hands on his lean hips, he frowned at the subtle challenge in her tone. “Because I didn’t hire you to work on cases.”
“What if I want to work on this case?” she argued, shocking herself yet again. She pulled back her shoulders to maintain an air of confidence. “I know the business, and I’m familiar with the case. Besides, how hard can it be to pose as your date and read love letters? You need a woman for the job, and the last I checked, I definitely fulfill that requirement.”
His gaze fell to her chest, and she realized that, with her shoulders back, the material of her dress was pulled tight across her breasts. To make matters worse, his heated stare caused her nipples to pucker in reaction.
He lifted his gaze back to her face. A muscle in his cheek ticked, and a harsh sigh unraveled out of him as he pushed his fists deep into his trouser pockets. “Melodie…I don’t think your father would appreciate me putting you in a potentially dangerous situation.”
She inwardly cringed at his placating tone, feeling anything but calm and mollified. She knew her father echoed Cole’s sentiments, believing she belonged in a safe environment, free from any outside