“Which succeeded in throwing me off your track once again,” he said.
“That seems an impossible feat, Mr. Alexander.”
“I am nothing if not persistent.” His grin mocked her, and his slow once-over scan made her feel cheap and vulnerable.
Melanie grabbed her cover-up, and with all good intentions tried to toss it casually over her head, but the head hole turned out to be the armhole, and she was stuck, fumbling like an idiot that could not even dress herself.
Though his face was hidden from her, she heard the humor lacing his voice. “Let me help you, Miss Decanis.”
Besides utter embarrassment, a new problem hit her: Angela Decanis was the name she’d given him, while the family inside knew her as Melanie Braxton. Hopefully, he’d be leaving soon.
She felt her face flush as it peeked out from the correct neck hole, and she confronted her walking nightmare who was standing too close for comfort. “Thanks, but no thanks. Did you get lost on your way out?”
“Actually, no. I was in the office completing my notes when, low and behold, I saw your vision of loveliness pass by. I admit that I was intrigued, and followed you.”
“You watched me swim?” she asked.
“I did, and what an achievement. I would labor after only one length of this pool, while you easily managed five without a break.”
“I work out a lot.”
His gaze scanned her body again and the smile broadened. Melanie felt like a fly under a microscope. “I can see that, Angela.”
“About that – the Knights know me by my family name.” Hopefully he’d think that a good excuse for two names. “Melanie instead. of Angela.” She ignored the surname completely.
“Melanie – I like that. Although you do look like an Angel, dressed with very naughty wings.”
“And you, Mr. Alexander, are far too outspoken for my liking.”
He bowed. “My apologies. I seem to step on your toes no matter how hard I try not to.”
“Good day, sir.” Melanie picked up her towel and moved toward the house.
“I suppose this means we will not be dining at the hotel tonight?”
“You are correct.”
Behind her, she detected the facetiousness in his voice. “Well, I suppose tomorrow will have to do. Mr. Knight has invited me to dine. He wants to show off his guest to a few of his closest friends and colleagues.”
Melanie gasped. Whatever was Trevor thinking? Obscurity did not involve parading her in front of his friends, especially this one. Was there no avoiding this man?
In Trevor’s defense, she had not named the man she was attempting to avoid when she’d mentioned the episode earlier.
She turned and added smugly, “I shall see you then, sir.” She muttered to herself, “If I’m still in Georgia,” Melanie summoned an extra dose of dignity and marched away.
As Melanie rounded the bend in the hallway upstairs, she heard a click, and she witnessed a startled figure departing from her suite. Melanie stopped in her tracks.
It was the girl who had been with Drew, the one who had rummaged through her apartment. The woman’s piercing eyes questioned Melanie’s surprised gasp as she approached at a brisk pace. “You’re dripping all over the expensive carpet,” she said. “When you’ve changed into something decent, meet me in my uncle’s office – we have things to discuss.”
Obviously, this was the high and mighty Chelsea that Trevor mentioned.
The figure passed by in a wave of nauseating perfume, adding an exasperated huff for drama. Her full skirt flared and slapped against Melanie’s bare legs.
Melanie summoned some of that Braxton stubbornness and as she reached for the door knob, she called after the intruder, “You shall have to wait, I’m afraid. Trevor is expecting me for lunch at one.”
The quickly fleeing lady twirled mid-step and cast Melanie an evil glare. She ignored it, grinned a satisfying victory grin, entered Chrissy’s room, and closed the door firmly against Chelsea Knight’s indignant gawking.
Think in the positive realm, for the negative only tears you down.
Chapter 12
At lunch, Melanie postponed mentioning that she’d encountered Trevor’s niece coming out of Chrissy’s room earlier. The man obviously hadn’t even realized she was in the Manor. She suddenly questioned his home as a safe harbor. The fact that people could come and go, with or without invitation from the Master of the Manor did not accomplish much in the line of protection.
Trevor was in a playful mood, and she decided a bit of laughter was needed more than a new onslaught of family bedlam. “Your business went well this morning?” Melanie asked. “You appear to be in a rather joyful mood.”
“In my line of work, I’ve discovered that I cannot stay focused on the negative twenty-four-seven if I wish to remain sane. I find you a delightful distraction.”
“I believe that your colleague had the same idea,” she said, noting his quizzical expression. “It appears your Mr. Alexander is the same drunk who hit on me yesterday and again today.”
Trevor laughed. “Couldn’t be. Stephen hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol for over a year – or so I’ve been told. Used to have a problem, but not anymore.”
“I only know the one who followed me to the pool today is the same man. Either he was drunk on the plane or especially good at acting and smelling the part. He followed me to the hotel and waited all night to accost me at the restaurant this morning. The man seems persistent in dogging my trail, and that gives me cause for alarm. He was thrilled to rediscover me in your pool.”
“Stephen did stop by briefly – some papers he wants me to sign – but I’ve been too busy to read them.”
“Let me guess: he’s persistent and annoying in business as well?”
Trevor roared. “Yes, he can be,
