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Authors: Linda Conrad

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BOOK: A Scandalous Melody
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“But why?” Shelby cried. “And why would Kate…?”

Chase shrugged. “Since that bastard Beltrane is dead, we'll never know his reasons.”

Shelby looked so horrified that Chase decided to say something more. “I suspect that Kate must feel some guilt for her part since she refuses to talk to you about it.”

“That story is just so unlike Kate,” Shelby insisted. “I can't understand it.”

All of a sudden, Chase knew he had said too much. “I can't understand it, either,” he hedged. “But I didn't mean for these old ghost stories to come between the two of you.”

“Oh, they won't,” Shelby quickly told him. “That story has nothing to do with the Kate I know. And the Kate that I know saved my life.”

Shelby reached over and swung her daughter up in her arms. The baby giggled before she nestled down against her mother's breast. “Right after Maddie was born…I thought I was going to have to give her up. I had nothing. No job and no family. I didn't have anywhere to live that would accept a baby, and I'd been begging friends for scraps of food.

“Kate's father was still alive at the time but he was sick,” Shelby continued. “So Kate snuck us food and helped me fix up that old guest cottage out back so we'd have a place to stay. She even babysat so I could go round up some catering jobs.”

Shelby placed a soft kiss against her child's forehead. “If I'd had to give up Maddie so soon after losing her daddy… Well, I wouldn't have wanted to go on. That's a fact. I owe Kate everything.”

Chase was speechless. The two stories of Kate didn't mesh.

“I'm not going to ask Kate again what happened ten years ago,” Shelby declared with a frown. “Eventually the truth will come out. It always does.”

Chase nodded. He wasn't so sure he wanted to hear the whole truth himself. Sometimes secrets were best left buried.

The air in the house turned sticky—too close, stifling warm and still. He needed a fresh breath. Some way to clear his head.

He thanked Shelby for the welcome tour and stepped out the front door, looking for a little peace.

 

Kate hopped down off the rickety riding mower and dislodged the weeds that had glued themselves to the blades. She took a moment to put a hand on her lower back and stretch. It was a wicked, hot day for so early in the spring, and she could feel the sweat trickling down between her breasts.

Wiping a hand across her brow and glancing over to the house in the distance, Kate's vision cleared just in time for her to spot a movement on the front veranda. Confused, she looked around a little more and noticed Chase's car, parked in the shade of the front portico.

He was already here. Narrowing her eyes, she searched the shadows to find him. It was a little early yet, but it would be nice to get things settled between them.

She found him there all right, pacing up and down the long veranda. Tall and still so spectacularly good-looking women must fall madly in love with him at first glance, the sight of Chase this morning made her weak in the knees.

Looking cool and casual, he walked up and down past the double-wide front doors. He was wearing tight jeans and a chambray work shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

The image dragged out a ten-year-old memory that Kate had tried to lock away. It was of another too-hot spring day when the two of them had nothing in the world to worry about except where to find enough shade to have their picnic lunch.

She'd been sweaty on that day, too. But most of the heat in those days had come from their close, hard young bodies, holding on to each other as they franti
cally looked for a place to be together and to be alone with their desperate need.

Under a favorite willow, they had found shade and privacy. She remembered his touch…the way he tasted as his mouth crushed down on hers.

The faded memories by themselves were enough to perk up her breasts and send fire skittering down her spine. Kate blinked and tried to fight it, but a long-ago picture came to mind of Chase sitting beside her and watching her undress. He had imprisoned her and made her squirm by simply watching—and wanting—with those sinfully darkened eyes and fierce gaze.

The startling memory of him watching her undress opened her own eyes. No wonder last night's striptease had caused such erotic sensations in her body.

His heat had already scorched her as a girl. Blazed a sensual path down her body and tattooed her soul forever with his marker.

Back then, even as an inexperienced girl, Kate had climaxed just by staring into those dangerous steel-gray eyes. And she had fallen completely under the spell he had woven around them with soft words and tender touches.

As the sweat from the current steamy day rolled down her temples and blurred her vision, Kate swallowed past her dry throat and took a deep breath. She also remembered much too clearly the shy, coward of a girl she had been all those years ago. Too timid to seek out what she really wanted. Too eager to let the threat of scandal rule her desires and her life.

And much too afraid of her father's influence to go for her dreams.

But no more. Her father was dead. Everything she loved was on the verge of being lost forever. She could no longer afford to be a coward. Kate intended to ask for what she wanted from now on.

 

Chase fisted his hands on his hips and surveyed his property from the vantage point of the veranda. Though the landscape was scruffy and unkempt, the long vistas of grass and trees, spreading out for acres, gave him a world of satisfaction.

It was his…this land for as far as eyes could see…owning this land and coming from the right side of town had been his childhood dream. It made him briefly think about the old gypsy and her legacy gift—the gift that was supposed to bring him to his heart's desire.

The idea made him smile as he reached once more for the jeweled egg in his shirt pocket. Live Oak Hall had been his dream for as long as he could remember.

That old weird gypsy had been right. He had gotten his heart's desire.

But for some reason, as his hand touched metal and embedded jewels, the feel of the egg didn't seem as much like magic this morning. It wasn't warm. It wasn't electric to the touch as it sometimes had been.

Chase heard a noise, forgot the egg and looked up to find the source. The buzzing sound of a small motor off in the distance made him turn his head. He saw that the noise was coming from a riding mower.

Unbidden thoughts of Kate suddenly drifted through his mind. With a mild jolt, he also realized that the egg's metal under his fingers was now heating up. But why?

As if he had somehow conjured up the vision, the
noisy riding mower came closer and the person in the driver's seat could be clearly seen. It was Kate.

He shook his head and nearly laughed out loud. Princess Kate? On a riding mower? Her father would never have allowed such a thing.

Kate waved, stopped the mower about twenty feet away and stepped off. “Isn't Shelby around? I thought she would be here to show you in.” Kate began walking toward him.

“She was here when I arrived,” he muttered. “Showed me around the house and gave me a key.”

Chase moved to the edge of the veranda and towered above the previous mistress of the house. “I didn't believe her when she said you were outside doing chores. It's a good thing I saw it for myself.”

Using her hand to shelter her eyes from the bright sun, Kate smiled up at him. “There are many things you need to see for yourself,
cher.

The seduction in her voice and the clearly sensual look in her gaze caught him off guard. All of the indecision and conflicted feelings about Kate bubbled up to the surface just to tantalize him.

Annoyed with himself for not being able to control his desires, he spoke much too harshly. “I can afford to hire out the yard work. No need to use my hands for such things.”

“I like using my hands for many fine things,” she told him with a sensual edge to her voice.

Her skin glistened with sweat in the hot sun as she stood defiantly and watched him. Chase's annoyance turned to furious need in an instant.

Dammit. And damn her.

Once Kate had been simple to understand and his desperate desire for her was easy and straightforward. Then, while he'd been away, the memory of Kate had turned to pure pain, stark and bitter in its cold reality.

What the hell was he supposed to feel about her now? Who was this Kate? Was she the one who had turned her back on him and everything they had together? Or was this the stranger Kate? One who had taken in Shelby and the baby.

“Come inside, Chase. I'll fix us something icy to drink before I make you feel at home.”

The obvious innuendo did nothing but irritate him. He gritted his teeth and scowled.

“Go clean up,
chère,
” he muttered. “You're filthy. Your father would be turning over in his grave.” He pulled the car keys from his jeans pocket. “I have things to do. Don't expect me back until late.”

“But, Chase…”

Striding past her with as much force as possible, Chase closed his heart to her soft sighs. This was too difficult.

He had to get away before she stole the last of his control. Being near her had just become impossible to bear.

Six

K
ate imagined herself to be a ghost—the dead mistress of the plantation manor, standing on the dimly lit landing at the top of the stairs awaiting the lover that would never return.

This was
so
not what she should be doing. Obviously, she'd been reading way too many romance novels.

Sitting down in the straight-backed chair she'd dragged out to the landing overlooking the entry foyer, Kate chided herself for being so melodramatic. Having a good chuckle at her own expense was a lot smarter than having a good cry because Chase hadn't come back to Live Oak Hall yet today.

Was it possible she'd talked herself into believing that he wanted her every bit as badly as she wanted him? Maybe. Because she wanted him bad. But the fire
in his eyes whenever he looked her way matched hers exactly. And his need seemed plain enough.

When she'd asked what he wanted that first night out on the B&B's terrace, he'd said it was her, hadn't he? So what was stopping him?

Over this long day of wondering where Chase had gone and when he would be back, Kate had made up a half-dozen reasons why he might not want to have an affair with her. Right at the top of the list was the idea that the rumors were true and that she really had become a frigid, unattractive spinster. Every single man she'd dated since Chase had left town had complained that she was cold and off-putting.

Kate had wondered if what they'd said might be true. Right up until Chase came back to town. Absolutely sure the gossip was wrong now, she marveled at all her renewed heat. With erotic and steamy passion blasting through the air whenever the two of them came together, she had never felt so hot in her entire life.

Maybe Chase's hesitance came from his continuing anger at her for turning her back on him all those years ago. His old wounds might be keeping him from recognizing the sensual pull that existed between them now. Kate frowned at the very thought.

How would she convince him to help the town and the mill if he wouldn't let her get too close? And how would she quiet her own furious desire to get him into bed if he refused her touch?

Kate swiped at her eyes, willing the tears away. Just this morning she had vowed never to be a coward again. To let nothing stop her from going for what she wanted.

Well…she wanted Chase. Not for the long term, of
course. That was a schoolgirl's dream she'd given up on the night he'd left town for good.

No, she wanted him for a short-term affair. A fiery and passionate few weeks when they wouldn't have to talk about the past—or maybe when they wouldn't have to talk about anything
at all
during eternal nights of mindless sex.

That was the reason she had dressed in this flimsy negligee, a black lace reminder of richer times…and now sat here in half darkness waiting for him to come back. Somehow she would find a way to show Chase that they could be lovers without recriminations. That they could simply take pleasure in each other's bodies and forget the rest.

Through the stillness of the night, Kate heard his car roaring up the allée toward the house. Finally. It must be long past midnight.

The noise of the engine switched off and she found herself holding her breath, waiting for him to come through the door. But endless silence dragged on and on, forcing her to eventually breathe—and to pray.

“Come on in,
cher,
” she urged him in her mind. “I will make it worth your while. I promise.”

But ten minutes later Chase had still not come through the front door. Kate decided she'd better go see what was wrong. Perhaps his key would not work in the lock.

Disregarding her state of undress, Kate sneaked quietly down the stairs and inched open the front door. A full, blue moon illuminated the veranda so that it was much brighter outside than it was inside the house.

She was out the door before she even spotted Chase, sitting in one of the antique rockers a couple of yards
down on the veranda. His eyelids were closed and he looked like a man asleep.

“Chase, why haven't you come inside to bed?” she whispered, quite sure that he was not really asleep.

Slowly he opened his eyes and gazed up at her with a lazy, languid stare. “I didn't want to disturb you,
chère.
I'm comfortable here and wanted to make sure you were asleep before I came inside.”

“Um…” She inched farther out into the brilliant moonlight. “Will we be sleeping in the same bed tonight? I thought we could move into the old master suite—my grandparent's bedroom. It has a big queen-size bed. I made it up with clean sheets and…”

“No, Kate,” he said with a low growl. “Go to bed by yourself. We will not be sleeping together.”

“But why not?” she demanded, already feeling slightly hysterical. “I thought you said you wanted me. What changed?”

Chase rocked back into a shadow so she couldn't see his expression. The damn man had a habit of doing that, and it was driving her crazy not being able to see his eyes.

Out of the darkness he whispered, “I won't have sex with someone whose only motivation is to bribe me to get what she wants.

“You look cold in that sheer scrap of nothing,” he continued gruffly. “Trying to prove the word going around about you is true? Cold-fish Kate? Go crawl into your own nice warm bed and leave me alone to freeze by myself.”

“But that's not true…”

“You mean this cold attempt at seduction isn't meant solely to convince me to bring the mill back to its old glory?”

“No,” she hedged, suddenly far more desperate than she should be. “I can't say that isn't part of it…but the mill's not everything.”

“What else is there,
chère?
I've already said Shelby and the baby can stay as long as they need to. You can stay, too. But not in my bed.”

Kate was on the verge of a full-blown panic. She wanted to scream at him that what she needed were his lips and his hands on her greedy body. She'd dreamed of his caresses for so very long.

Chase couldn't possibly mean that he was not interested at all. Even from this distance and not being able to see his eyes through the pitch-black darkness, Kate could feel the tension growing between them. At this moment she didn't care if he helped bring the mill back or not—but she did care a lot about getting him to touch her again.

He wanted her. She was positive that he did. And she was determined to make him see just how much.

In her bare feet, Kate tiptoed closer to the edge of the veranda, making sure she was clearly visible to Chase in the yellow glow of moonlight. Then turning to face him straight-on, she spread her legs and planted her feet for balance.

“I have dreamed of being with you, Chase. For ten lonely years my body has ached for your touch.”

He made no comment, and she almost went into the shadows to shake sense into him. Vowing to shake him up from a distance instead, Kate took off her silky robe and dropped it to the veranda floor. Which left her in nothing but a see-through nightgown.

“I don't expect you to care about me,” she told him
boldly. “That's not necessary. And I certainly don't expect any promises—for anything.”

Taking another breath, Kate wiggled out of the long nightgown and let it pool around her bare feet. The shock of the cool night air ran goose bumps over her body. She knew he was watching her, and her breasts were suddenly full and achy. The heat quickly spread across her chest and moved lower, doing away with the bumps and bringing moist sweat to secret spots instead.

She was standing scandalously naked before him and still he said nothing.

But she could feel his eyes on her body—the same way they had been over the strip poker game—the same way they had been under the willow when the two of them were young and desperate.

Kate knew she had his full attention. And she intended to force him to fold. He would not be able to keep his distance after she showed him the power of her hand in this risky game.

Hands. She arched her back and ran her hands up her rib cage until they cupped her breasts.

If she'd had enough nerve to play strip poker with him, she certainly could go the extra mile tonight. He liked to watch. Okay then. She would give him something to watch.

Lifting one breast up far enough so that the stiff peak would be clearly visible, Kate used her own fingers to roll and pinch the sensitive nipple. “This is what I want from you,” she said with a small groan. “It has nothing to do with the mill. If I close my eyes, I can pretend it's your fingers on my skin again after all this time.”

She leaned back against a solid oak post and let her
eyelids drift down. Then she licked the fingers of her other hand and tugged at the second nipple until it too became purple and engorged.

“I can dream that my hand is your mouth, tasting, laving, drawing me up unmercifully.” The bolts of electricity had begun to run from her breasts to other spots on her body that begged for his attention. “Can you taste me still,
cher?
After all these years, I remember. Do you?”

From out of the darkness, she heard him take a ragged breath, and it spurred her on. Gave her courage.

As she ran a hand lightly down her abdomen and inched toward the tender spot between her thighs, Kate's body began to react to the touches. Even if they were just from her own hands.

Lifting a foot and letting it rest on a low bench beside her, Kate felt the shock of night air as the breeze palmed her in the most private area. She wanted Chase to clearly see what she was doing to herself. What she wanted him to do to her instead.

“All those years apart, Chase. All those desolate nights. I dreamed of you touching me…taking me. I learned that I could make-believe that it was you inside me.” She slid her fingers through the tangled nest of her own curls, heading lower.

“I imagined your tongue opening my secret folds, your hot breath on me as you nibbled and teased the very heart of my passion.” She sucked two fingers into her mouth, getting them completely wet.

Giving herself permission to do whatever gave the most pleasure, she groaned aloud. Then she slipped one lubricated finger inside the tender spot at the juncture
of her legs. The place that was pulsing and ready to be stroked.

“I learned how to do the same things you had done to me so long ago.” Her voice had grown raspy, hoarse with frustrating passion. “I imagined how to think of you and touch myself in just the right way.”

She used the other wet finger to tickle the sensitive nub at the entrance to her core. And found that it was raw with desire and begging for attention. The sensations she created with her fingers caused her breath to come in short pants. Waves of pleasure began building deep and low in her belly, urging her to hurry up and finish the discussion so Chase could take over.

“Do you see, Chase? Do you see what thoughts of you can do? I want you here inside of me. I want the real thing. I want…”

The shocking words she'd uttered were suddenly interrupted by moaning cries—as her orgasm snuck up and engulfed her. She'd let herself get too close. Chase hadn't made a move.

But at that same moment she heard Chase's hiss of surprise and desire coming out of the shadows. Too late.

Then all she could hear was heavy breathing as circles of climax swamped her body in liquid heat and blazing insanity. Wetness covered her hand, her legs shook violently, and the world disappeared in a slick sensual mist.

Light-headed and limp, Kate began sinking to her knees as she lowered herself against the post. She'd messed up. She had come too soon and her chance at convincing Chase to come with her was gone for good.

But in her next lucid moment, she found Chase kneeling beside her.
“C'est impossible,”
he groaned as he lift
ed her into his arms. “I can no longer deny that I want you. The sight of you has driven me to madness. You are my obsession. You always have been. I don't care if you are the echo of past mistakes. I must have you.”

His mouth came down on hers with such a frantic demand that she cried out in shock. But the hard pressure of his mouth switched her cries of surprise to moans of erotic pleasure in an instant.

Her mouth opened under his and their tongues tangled, creating brand-new delicious tingles in her lower body. She was aware of his hard, muscled chest, his strength and his masculinity. And she was instantly ready again, wanting him savagely—right now.

Chase never took his mouth from hers, but pushed through the front doors with Kate still in his arms as he headed toward the stairs. He broke the kiss long enough to bound up the staircase.

“Front left room, right?” he gasped at the landing.

“Huh?” she gulped, incapable of comprehension.

“The master suite.”

“Oh. Yes.” Finally. Wonderfully. “Yes. Hurry.”

 

Gypsy Passionata Chagari skulked back into the shadows of Blackwater Bayou and watched as the river snakes glided past, through tea-colored waters.

“At last you make your move, young Severin,” she mumbled to herself with great irritation. “But you do so with a grudge in your heart.”

She flicked her wrist and swore. “You strain my patience, Severin. I have come to you, knowing your irreverence and disbelief would test the magic. Now you force my hand.”

Folding her arms over her chest, Passionata began to pace through cypress knees and vine-tangled ankle-deep swamp. What could she do to open his eyes to the truth? This young gambler refused to accept what was placed in front of him. To him, all hands were bluffs.

Reckless young man.

“Well, you have met your match with me,” she vowed. “My family owes your family the magic and you will accept. You have no choice.”

Grumbling those words aloud reminded her of the origin of the debt owed by the family Chagari to the Steele family. Life. The ultimate magic.

That was the answer, she thought with a smile. She eased a hand into her pocket and pulled out the crystal.

BOOK: A Scandalous Melody
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