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Chapter 12
When Corbin got the text message from Queenie that Melanie’s limo was twenty minutes out, he drove down to the cottage. He’d chosen the car over his truck; it was a large, mid-range luxury model that he rarely used anymore, since it was a tangible relic of his former life. But as a man who loved finely tuned machines, he’d held onto it, and tonight, it would be a much more suitable means of transportation to an event such as this. Melanie deserved nothing less.
After making sure that Zanifa and Rhys would be okay for the evening, he stood on the newly re-floored porch, shoulder to shoulder with Mr. Happy, trying to avoid the statue’s knowing smirk. The satyr seemed well aware of Corbin’s discomfort, stuffed as he was into a tuxedo that he hadn’t worn in years, unruly dark hair combed back off his forehead and manhandled into submission with gel.
He struggled with the chilly leaden weight that had settled in the pit of his stomach, the deep knowledge of what awaited him at the end of their sojourn to Nice. Queenie had finally relented and texted him the actual address, and he recognized both it and its owner at once. Tonight, he would be stepping into a pit of vipers, and he had only one reason for braving those rattles and fangs.
Melanie.
Courage, ami,the satyr whispered out of the side of his grinning mouth, and Corbin turned swiftly to stare at it, startled. Now inanimate objects were attempting to converse with him. He really was a mess. Maybe he should just plead a stomach bug and go back to his big empty house and lie down amidst a carpet of dogs until the nausea passed.
But he answered out loud, “Easy for you to say. You exist in a world of pleasure and indulgence.” His gaze went unbidden to the satyr’s exuberant midsection and then swiftly slid away. A grown man did not envy a statue. “For me, tonight, every moment will be agony.”
The alabaster face seemed to ponder this prediction, and then responded gravely, Well, not every moment….
And then there was the sound of tires upon gravel, and the white limo glided up before the steps like an orca beneath the surface of a calm sea. Olivier ran around and opened the back door.
When Melanie stepped out, all thought of conversing with a block of stone went out of Corbin’s head. It was as if the moon had peeped out from behind the clouds. The whole garden seemed to brighten.
She was dressed in dazzling white, in a gown that hugged her body and kissed her in places every woman should be kissed. Gold dripped from her ears and coiled around her throat. Her shoes sparkled. And Melanie… Melanie herself glowed.
Corbin was vaguely aware of Olivier making several trips to the porch with his arms loaded with shopping bags, and as a gentleman he should have offered to help, but he was rooted to the spot, unable to move.
Incapable of speech.
She stepped forward, her face the picture of uncertainty, eyes fixed on his, waiting for a reaction. But what was wrong with his mouth? Where was his tongue?
He felt as though he was drowning, sucked in by an undertow he had never seen coming. Since the moment he’d first spotted her—not counting the pounding she had given him—he’d been struck by her beauty, her energy, her glossy hair, her perfect, creamy skin. But tonight she was… what was the word? How could he describe this?
Transcendent.
And there he was, gawking at her like a schoolboy.
Her brow furrowed, and she wet her pretty pink lips nervously. “Corbin?”
There was a shout and a clatter and Rhys burst through the front door, carrying Corbin’s telescope in a box under his arm. Zanifa followed close behind, swinging the keys to her car. They were about to leave for their meteor shower outing down by the lake.
The moment he spotted his mother he skated to a stop, so abruptly that his sneakers squeaked. “Mom!” he breathed. His face split in an awed grin.
Melanie turned towards him, looking grateful that at least someone was saying something, and held out her arms. He ran into them and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You’re beautiful,” he announced with boyish exuberance.
I second that,Corbin thought. He watched as the two said their goodbyes, with Rhys reaching up to caress a strand of his mother’s hair, as if he had never seen her looking like this. Then with a kiss on his mom’s cheek and a wave in Corbin’s general direction, he and his nanny were off. With a tip of his hat, Olivier followed suit, climbing back into his limo for his return journey. And then they were alone again.
“Are you… going to say something?” she ventured awkwardly.
He apologized, relieved to find his tongue once more. “I am sorry. I was… at a loss for words. You are so beautiful, Princesse…”
She flushed scarlet, bringing her hands up to her cheeks. “Please, please don’t ‘princess’ me!”
He nodded. “Very well. You are beautiful, Melanie.” Then after some thought, he added, “And I do not just speak of tonight.”
He held out his hand and she slipped hers into it, soft and smooth. Now that he was close enough to touch her, she smelled of flowers. Lavender, certainly, and many types of citrus. He had a momentary image of her lying backwards in a perfumed bath as petals floated around her, and had to shake himself to dismiss it, so he would not embarrass himself with his physical response.
This is business,he reminded himself. This is not a game. So he settled her in her seat, helping her buckle in, hoping to God that the seatbelt didn’t ruin that perfect white gown. She allowed him to snap the buckle, tilting her face closer to his. Too close, perhaps. Because he could count every single sparkling pin that held her hair in place and inhale the aura of sweetness that rose from her skin.
He sat back, snapped his own belt shut, and sent up a silent prayer for self-control and dignity. The evening was already promising to be difficult for him. Melanie looking and smelling like this did not make it any easier.
They slid out of the driveway and down the country road. Although it was a less direct route, he drove near enough to the lake for Melanie to look out at it through the darkness, with its crowds of stargazers settling in for a long evening of lights streaming from the heavens.
