How To Host a Seduction (23 page)

As she circled the desk to leave the office, Ellen glanced down to where scattered papers and a glimpse of familiar handwriting caught her eye. She peered down curiously at a signature she might never have noticed if not for the name that leaped out at her as if it had been lit in flashing neon.

B. Christopher Sinclair.

Byron. Who'd have guessed? She certainly wouldn't have. Not in a million years. Though his mother's love of
Lord Byron's poetry didn't come as any real surprise. Christopher had come by his romantic streak honestly.

And she was counting on his romantic streak right now, because if all went as she hoped, she wouldn't be left out of knowing the intimate details of his life ever again.

With a fingertip, she eased the document from beneath others, curious to see what he'd signed his full name to when he'd never used it while they'd dated. She glanced down at what appeared to be…

An authorization for a work order?

Lifting the document off the desk, Ellen scanned what turned out to be a work order for the repair of the island gazebo where they'd made love last night.

Why would Christopher be signing for repair work?

But his wasn't the only signature. Quinevere McDarby's name was elegantly scrawled below his.

Owners, Southern Charm Mysteries, Inc.

It took one stunning, breathless moment for Ellen to absorb the evidence right before her eyes, to register the impossible fact that Christopher and Miss Q were the co-owners of Southern Charm Mysteries.

“We?”
Ellen had asked Miss Q at the start of the training.

“Quite a few of us have been involved in pulling together Southern Charm Mysteries,”
she'd replied.

B. Christopher Sinclair.

Which meant Christopher must also own some part of Félicie Allée.

“The former owners couldn't make the location work to their benefit,”
Miss Q had said.

“They lacked vision and imagination,”
Christopher had agreed.

“Which is not a problem with the current owners. We're visionaries.”

Visionaries, indeed.

The blood was rushing so hard in her ears that Ellen never even heard the door open, not until she heard Christopher's voice.

“Olaf said you'd come back.”

She glanced up. Their gazes locked over the desk, over the document she held. One look at his face told her he was reeling from her unexpected return. No less than she was reeling. He recovered first, must have recognized her stricken expression because he frowned.

“Ellen, I—”

“You own Southern Charm Mysteries with Miss Q?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“And Félicie Allée?”

“My company held the majority shares on the property. When they were going to sell it, I saw an opportunity to put the place to work. I thought it was a chance to turn the plantation into something people would appreciate, rather than leave it down here to rot in the bayou.”

Though she recognized the words as her own from a conversation long ago, the reasoning was quintessential Christopher. Sharp business acumen edged with the unexpected. Unorthodox. Like his marriage proposal.

“But why?”

“Because of you, love.”

“You bought an antebellum plantation because I liked it. Christopher, that's crazy.”

He shrugged. “It's a solid investment. You thought the plantation had potential and I trust your judgment. Félicie Allée is the perfect place to host murder-mystery training sessions. It's also the perfect place to host a seduction. But it took…well, it took me some time to pull it together.”

She blinked, had absolutely no idea what to think. Or
what to say. A crazy tightness mushroomed in her chest, made it impossible to breathe, let alone talk.

And she'd thought the Pinabel had been extravagant.

“I got what I came for, love, so I consider the training a success.” His too-blue gaze searched her face, a caress that melted away some of her shock, geared her up for…“You'll take my calls once we get back to New York.”

She winced at the reminder of her behavior when she'd ended their relationship—behavior that had seemed so logical at the time seemed completely horrible now. Christopher hadn't let her go. He might have compromised if only she had given him a chance.

He'd been
the one
all along.

She'd so misunderstood this man, all because she'd been afraid of pushing past her own limits, of moving outside the comfortable safe boundaries of her life.

But no more. Ellen was through playing it safe.

I let myself believe it would all work out, and it did.

Ellen believed. She'd have to remember to tell Lennon she'd been right about heroes all along.

The work order slipped from her fingers, fluttered back to the desk. “You went through all this effort and expense just so I'd take your phone calls when we got home?”

He folded his arms across his chest and smiled. “Actually, I'd set my sights a lot higher, but given that the session was cut short, I thought it best to reevaluate my objective.”

Her heartbeat fluttered wildly as she searched his gaze, recognized the truth she saw in those beautiful eyes.

The time had come to put up or shut up.

“I think you should stick with your original objective.”

“Excuse me, love?”

The man obviously didn't get it, and Ellen couldn't blame him, which reminded her of his comment about a
pod person invading her body. He had every right to think she'd been invaded. She'd done nothing to let him know how she felt, hadn't even acknowledged the truth to herself.

But that was back when she'd been living life by the rules.

Reaching for her purse, she flipped it open, dug inside. Christopher watched, his deepening frown clearly conveying what he thought was coming.

But she didn't pull out her cell phone, proving that times were indeed changing.

“Will you marry me?” She lifted out a square jeweler's box. “I brought you a ring. I thought it might…you know, make it official.”

“You want to marry me?”

“Yes, Christopher, I do. In say…oh, I don't know, two months. Is that enough time to plan a decent wedding?”

He glanced down at the ring, and she felt all fluttery inside, nervous, expectant,
vulnerable.
She needed him to react, but as he really wasn't recovering quickly this go-round, she reached for his hand and slipped the ring on his finger.

A square gold band split into two smaller bands that cradled a gorgeous diamond. A simple, very masculine ring, beautiful on his strong hand, which was exactly what she'd hoped for.

And it was a perfect fit.

Just like they were, together.

“Will you marry me, Christopher?”

Ellen searched his face and something about the way his expression had softened told her she'd touched him, deeply. When he lifted his gaze, she saw all the love she felt mirrored in those gorgeous eyes.

“You're ready to toss out the rule book?”

“Not exactly.” She placed his hand on her waist and stepped into the circle of his arms. “I'm making up new rules. The first one is—If I let myself believe it'll all work out, it will.”

“And it will.” Dimples flashed. “I'll marry you, love.”

Then his mouth came down on hers, promising her a future filled with firsts, and Ellen knew what her second rule for happiness would be: Know when to abandon all the other rules.

The Hall

C
HRISTOPHER LED
E
LLEN
into the hall to say goodbye to the guests. They were dressed in their twenty-first century street clothes for the trip back to reality, which they'd be making together earlier in the day than expected. Ellen's father had arranged private transportation for their return flight and invited them for dinner at the Talbots' home on Long Island.

The time had come to explain the new game plan and invite his future in-laws to the wedding. And he'd be by Ellen's side to issue that invitation—exactly where he wanted to be.

But until then, they would enjoy the company of their friends and acquaintances, bask in the glow of their win. The denouement was over and they'd claimed the prize. Southern Charm Mysteries' grand opening training session had been a success.

“I think it's significant that we have three private investigators here and not one could solve this mystery,” Miss Q said from her perch on a bench.

She'd abandoned her costume, as well, and Christopher was glad they were through the grand opening, because now Olaf would take over the daily operations and free
Miss Q up for her next adventure. She'd gifted Olaf with a business he enjoyed running, and would eventually own once she turned over her shares. Christopher appreciated their partnership, too, knew the business would be in good hands.

All in all, the new owners of Southern Charm Mysteries, Inc. were very pleased.

“Significant?” Josh stared down at Miss Q with a surly expression. “I'd say it's lame.”

“Lennon, did you write this script and purposely hold out on Josh so you wouldn't win?” Ellen asked.

Lennon shook her head. “I didn't write the script.”

“But there's something so familiar about this story setup.” Ellen eyed Susanna and Tracy warily.

“Don't look at me,” Susanna said. “I haven't had time to moonlight. I've been rewriting my latest book, remember?”

“Me, too,” Tracy chimed in.

Though Christopher could only assume Susanna and Tracy referred to the status of their current projects with Ellen, he did recognize the effect on Ellen. Color rode high in her cheeks, but she smiled, an amused, beautiful smile that underscored her newfound commitment to enjoy the moment.

“No, I don't suppose either of you would have had the time.” She laughed and fixed her gaze on Miss Q. “Was it Stephanie?”

“Yes, it was, dear.”

“I should have known. If the twist didn't give it away, the awful title should have.”

“
Away with the Tide
isn't nearly as bad as
Lord of the Ravished.
” Lennon rolled her eyes.

“Thank goodness.”

“Stephanie has a warped sense of humor.” Tracy sat
down beside Miss Q. “We came to investigate a murder. How were we supposed to make the leap to romance?”

“There were plenty of clues.” Miss Q patted her knee. “Ellen and Christopher found quite a few.”

“Actually, Ellen discovered both the clues that turned our investigation around,” said Christopher. He wouldn't take credit for her cleverness. Not when he liked the way she smiled at his gallantry. “We were looking for Mac and Harley's diary the whole time, but we never found it.”

“How'd you know about the diary?” Mac asked.

“We overheard you and Harley arguing about where to hide it,” Ellen explained. “Where did you finally decide on?”

Mac scowled at Harley, charging her with the blame, but Josh was scowling at the two of them even harder.

Harley ignored them both and said lightly, “So you were with the ringing cell phone we heard that day. We decided on a shelf in the summer bedroom.”

Ellen shot him a glance that said,
The only bedroom we didn't search.

“Don't sweat it, though,” Harley continued. “You didn't miss much. The diary only corroborated Brigitte and Felicity's friendship.”

“Really, the mystery was very simple to figure out, dears,” Miss Q said, drawing all their attention. “If you came at it with love as the motive. The captain's father loved his family so he smuggled them to safety before his execution. The beautiful Allienor loved her son, so she reared him to manhood before allowing herself to find love again and give birth to Brigitte. The captain loved his sister so he tried to create a wonderful life for her. It all makes perfect sense.”

Christopher wasn't exactly sure how many guests would
think to come at a murder mystery from the love angle, but he supposed that was a plot twist in itself.

“Speaking of love,” Ellen said. “Christopher and I would like to invite you back to Félicie Allée on Labor Day weekend for our wedding. We hope you'll all be able to join us.”

After a moment of shocked silence, everyone erupted into good wishes. Lennon launched herself at Ellen and they hugged.

Josh shook his hand. “Won't be a dull moment, trust me.”

“I'm counting on it,” Christopher said.

Miss Q and Olaf hung back with smiles on their faces—they'd been let in on the wedding plans earlier to secure the date for the wedding—and the chorus of congratulations and questions continued until Tracy's voice rang out over the confusion.

“Where's the ring?” she demanded.

Ellen reached for his hand, and Christopher smiled gamely as she displayed his engagement ring.

“Ah, excuse me, Ellen—romance editor who's supposed to know these sorts of details—” Tracy said with a frown. “Are you getting senile in your dotage? Did you somehow miss that
he's
supposed to give
you
the ring?”

“No. I'm not getting senile, Ms. You'll-reach-your-dotage-a-month-behind-me.
I
proposed to
him.
”

“This time.” Miss Q chuckled.

“Ellen will have her ring as soon as we get home,” Christopher promised.

“Speaking of home—” Miss Q stood “—it's that time, I'm afraid. I want to thank you all for participating in Southern Charm Mysteries' grand opening session and ask you to remember us for all your training needs.”

With her words, the group broke up to say individual goodbyes.

Christopher overheard Susanna say to Olaf, “So I guess I'll be back here in September.”

“I hope to see you before that.” Olaf led her toward the door. “If you don't make it to town to see your son, I've got a supplier in Shreveport I need to visit….”