Richard couldn’t recall the last time he’d gone for a walk in the snow just for the sheer fun of it. Of course, in this case it was also a way to get out of the house and away from those wayward thoughts he was having about the impossible woman staying with him. The fact that she’d tried to sell him a bill of goods about that insipid reporter suggested she was aware that the temptation was getting too hot to handle, too.
Outside, though, the air was crisp and cold off the river. The sky, now that the storm had ended, was a brilliant blue. The sun made the drifts of white snow glisten as if the ground had been scattered with diamonds. He was glad he’d thought to put on his sunglasses. Of course, the almost childlike excitement shining in Melanie’s eyes was just as blinding, and the glasses couldn’t protect him from that.
When they’d left the house, she’d been totally guarded, most likely because of his teasing. Now all of that seemed to be forgotten. Every two feet, she paused to point out some Christmas-card-perfect scene.
“Look,” she said in a hushed voice, grabbing his sleeve. “A cardinal.”
Richard followed the direction of her gaze and found the cardinal, its red feathers a brilliant splash of color against the snow, a holly tree as its backdrop. Its less colorful mate was sitting on a tree branch, almost hidden by the dark green leaves and red berries. The birds were common, but Melanie made it seem as if this were something totally special and incredible. Her enthusiasm was contagious.
Melanie sighed. “I wish I had my camera.”
“We can pick up one of that throwaway kind at the store,” he suggested.
She looked at him as if he’d had a divine inspiration. “Now?” she asked with so much eagerness that he laughed.
“You are so easy to please,” he teased. “A cheap camera and you’re a pushover.”
“I’ve decided to go with the flow today,” she informed him.
Now there was a notion he could get behind. “Oh, really?”
She frowned at him in mock despair. “Not that flow,” she scolded.
He shrugged. “Just a thought.”
She gave him an odd look. “It’s not as if you really want to seduce me,” she said with surprising certainty. “So why do you say things like that?”
“What makes you think I don’t want to seduce you?” In truth, the idea had been growing in appeal by leaps and bounds.
“You’ve admitted as much,” she reminded him. “Not that I think you’d turn me down if I agreed to take you up on it, but you’re really flirting to annoy me.”
Richard wondered about that. He seemed to be taking the idea more and more seriously by the minute. Melanie wasn’t his type, but there was something about her, something refreshingly honest and open and enthusiastic. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d encountered that particular combination, much less been drawn to it. Maybe Destiny was right about that much, at least. Maybe he was ready for a change in his life, a spark of excitement and a few heady thrills. It would beat the mundane existence he’d been telling himself he was perfectly contented with.
He glanced at Melanie, noting the expectant look on her face as she awaited a reply to her challenge. “Maybe I am trying to annoy you,” he agreed. “Then again, perhaps I’m just trying to prepare you for the moment when I make my first totally irresistible move.”
She blinked at that, but then a smile broke across her face. “I don’t think so,” she said with complete confidence.
Vaguely disgruntled by her conviction, he asked, “Why not?”
“Because you don’t play games. You take life far too seriously to be bothered with them.”
His gaze narrowed. “Destiny’s theory again?”
“No, my own personal observation,” Melanie assured him. “I’m a good judge of people. That makes me an excellent public relations person, because I know how to make the public see what I see.”
Richard was more curious than he’d expected to be about her perceptions. “What would you make them see about me? Not that I’m stuffy, I hope.”
“No, I’d emphasize that you do take responsibility seriously, that you’ve worked hard at Carlton Industries and would work just as hard for your constituents. Those are good, solid recommendations for a candidate.”
“I thought you didn’t think I’d be a viable candidate because I hadn’t walked in the shoes of those who’ve struggled,” he reminded her.
She shrugged. “Maybe you convinced me otherwise.”
“Or maybe you want this contract so badly, you’re willing to say whatever it takes to get it,” he said with an edge of cynicism.
She stopped in her tracks and scowled at him. “If you believe that, then you don’t know me very well,” she said, sounding genuinely miffed. “I don’t work for anyone I don’t believe in.”
“You don’t know me well enough to believe in me,” he countered.
“Actually, I think I do. After your aunt suggested we meet, I did a lot of research before I agreed. I talked to people. I read everything in print. I wanted to be sure that Destiny wasn’t being totally biased about your capabilities or your honesty and integrity. She wasn’t. You’re a good man, Richard. The consensus on that is unanimous.” She gave him a considering look. “Whether you have what it takes to win an election is something else entirely.”
Richard bristled at the suggestion that he wasn’t up to the challenge of running for office or winning. “What is it you think I might be lacking?”
“An open mind,” she said at once.
He started to argue, then saw exactly the trap she’d laid for him. “Because I made up my mind about hiring you before we’d even met,” he guessed.
“That’s one reason,” she agreed. “And because now that we have met, you can’t divorce my professional capabilities from the fact that I’m a woman who rattles you.”
“You don’t rattle me,” he claimed, doubting whether he sounded the least bit convincing.
She regarded him with amusement. “There’s the first real lie I’ve heard cross your lips.”
“That you know of,” he said, not denying that he’d lied in that instance. She did rattle him, no question about it. He’d just hoped to convince her otherwise. The woman saw too darn much. He didn’t like it that she could get into his head. He prided himself on keeping most people off guard and at a distance. That kind of safety suited his comfort level.
“The first lie,” she insisted.
Richard sighed. “Okay, say you’re right about that. Say I’m addicted to telling the truth and that you rattle me, so what?”
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” she said more cheerfully.
He stared at her in confusion. “Where?”
“You’re very close to admitting that you’ve been mule-headed and stubborn and that you will read my business proposal when we get back to the cottage.”
He regarded her incredulously. “You got that out of my admission?”
She grinned. “Brilliant, aren’t I?”
He laughed despite himself. “Not necessarily brilliant, but sneaky. You’re a lot like my aunt, in fact.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He sighed.