Dark Perception: The Corde Noire Series (13 page)

“
Here’s y’all’s order.”
Their waiter banged a black tray down on their table.

Melinda took advantage of the
disruption to clear her mind. When the plate of scrambled eggs and
biscuits was placed before her, her stomach rumbled.

“
Anything else I can get
y’all?” the waiter inquired.

“
No, this is great,” Nathan
told him.

Melinda picked up the fork. “I think
sometimes you’re toying with me.”

Nathan added a few shakes of pepper to
his ham and eggs. “I’m toying with you?” He whacked the pepper
shaker down on the table. “Melinda, I don’t think you know the
effect you have on men. I thought Bud Moore was going to leap at
you from across the room when he first saw you.”

She filled her fork with scrambled
eggs. “I saw the way he looked at me, but I couldn’t see what he
was thinking.” She shoved the eggs into her mouth.

“
But when I look at you,
you can see what I’m thinking, can’t you?”

Melinda concentrated on the taste of
the eggs, wanting to keep out of Nathan’s head. After she had
swallowed her food, she turned to him. “I can see your desires,
Nathan. Especially the ones concerning me.”

His face grew somber as he picked up
his knife and fork. “Those desires can never come true, Melinda.
Remember that.” He furiously cut into his ham. “I don’t want
anything getting in the way of your job. I need your ability to
help my business. I can’t risk jeopardizing that. So if you see
thoughts that you think … they’re just thoughts, nothing
more.”

Feeling her appetite wane, Melinda
rested her fork on the plate. She reached for her coffee and closed
her eyes as she sipped the warm liquid. Suddenly, she yearned for
something stronger.

How was she going to contain her
burgeoning feelings for him? Lying or deceiving people was not
something she was good at. Her emotions had pretty much been an
open book to anyone willing to view them. If she felt this way now,
how was it going to be in another month, or even a year after
working with the man? Would her feelings eventually recede, or
would they grow hotter with every minute she spent in his presence?
Undone by her dilemma, Melinda picked up her fork and sighed. This
job was turning out to be a lot tougher than she’d
expected.

Chapter 9

When they returned to The Shallows,
Nathan insisted Melinda come to his penthouse and go over their
upcoming meetings.

“
Since you have a good
grasp of what you will be doing, we have to discuss tactics … what
I’m looking for at each meeting, and the big players you need to be
reading,” he explained as they rode the elevator up to the fifth
floor.

When they stepped from the elevator,
Melinda swallowed back her rising apprehension.

“
I also want you to be
prepared for some shouting matches at a few of these things,” he
warned as he retrieved his keys from his jacket pocket.

“
Why would there be any
shouting? I thought you said the people you’re dealing with are
businessmen.”

He snorted with amusement. “Obviously,
you’ve never been to many business meetings where there’s a large
amount of money at stake.” He unlocked his double doors and waved
her inside. “After you,” he said with a grin.

Entering his penthouse, the intensity
of the light took her breath away. The open loft was filled with
radiant sunlight beaming in through a long line of picture windows
that made up the far wall. As her eyes adjusted to the brightness,
Melinda could see how each room spilled over into the next. Walls
were composed of red-bricked support archways and the rough-hewn
cypress ceiling beams had been left exposed. The pine hardwood
floors were dull and covered with dark knots, but the effect
complemented the rustic appearance of the space. The furniture was
minimalist in nature, finished with chrome and white leather, and
scattered intermittently about a living room area. Along one wall
were four colorful portraits of women attired in skimpy lingerie
and bound with handcuffs, rope, and other bondage
devices.

“
They’re by the artist Ren
Plancharde. Ever heard of him?” Nathan gauged her
reaction.

Melinda moved closer to get a better
look at the paintings. “No. Who is he?”

He shut the doors and came up to her.
“A local artist, but he’s getting a national following among
bondage enthusiasts.”

“
Bondage enthusiasts?” She
raised her eyebrows. “That sounds dangerous.”

He eased in next to her. “Do you know
anything about the Dominant-submissive relationship?”

“
Only what I’ve read and
seen in the movies.”

Nathan shook his head and stepped
away. “The media presents a very slanted view of the
lifestyle.”

Melinda’s curiosity was
piqued by his use of the word “lifestyle.”
Is Nathan into this stuff?

“
How do you know the
artist?” she pressed, wanting to know more.

“
We belong to the same
club.”

“
Like a health
club?”

Nathan chuckled. “No, something much
more … exclusive. It’s called the Corde Noire Society.”

“
Corde Noire? That means
black rope.”

“
Tres
bien
,” he cooed. “There are only a handful
of members currently, but we hope to expand our ranks.”

Melinda furrowed her brow. “What kind
of society is it?”

He moved past her into the living
room. “Just something for men who like to play games.”

Melinda was about to question him
further when she became distracted by a collection of rusted
shackles, chains, and collars covering one section of a wall to her
left.

“
What’s that?” She pointed
in horror at the wall.

Nathan halted and casually eyed the
artifacts. “They came with the building. Old pieces that were found
beneath the foundation when I was doing renovations.”

“
Why do you have them in
your apartment?”

Nathan tossed his keys on a glass and
chrome coffee table. “I didn’t think it would be appropriate to
display them in the lobby. They’re actually quite valuable. A
historical society wanted them, but I thought they should remain
with the building. I guess it’s my memorial to all those who died
on this site.” He motioned to the kitchen. “Would you like a
drink?”

Melinda tore her eyes away from the
frightful objects. “No, thank you.”

In the open bedroom to her left, she
noted a gold Oriental rug beneath a king-sized, four-poster walnut
bed covered with a white bedspread. A smile lifted the edges of her
lips. Beyond the bedroom, she could just make out an ultra-modern
bathroom made of glass and trimmed with silver. She eyed the
frosted shower stall, white double vanity, and a see-through linen
closet framed in silver.

Nathan eased his jacket from his
shoulders and tossed it to the white leather and chrome sofa. He
strutted toward the kitchen, passing the big screen television at
the edge of the living room area.

“
Where’s your
office?”

Nathan nodded to a door next to the
kitchen. “In there.”

Melinda assessed the proximity of the
office door to her apartment wall. “I’ll have to remember your
office is right next to my apartment. Make sure I wear my
headphones when I play my keyboard.”

He opened the built-in Sub-Zero
refrigerator. “Please don’t. I told you, I want to hear your
music.” Nathan turned to her and lifted his eyebrows playfully. “As
long as it isn’t heavy metal.” He removed a bottle of water from
the refrigerator.

Melinda strolled further into the
apartment. “Kind of hard to play heavy metal on a keyboard. You
need a guitar to really wail with that stuff.”

“
What kind of music do you
play?”

She put her purse and briefcase on the
sofa. “My music is more ethereal. Light, easy on the ears, and
meant to move the spirit, not necessarily the feet.”

He returned to her side, carrying the
water in his hands. “Then it’s like you.”

Melinda shrugged. “It’s what I
feel.”

“
Even better.” Nathan went
to his office door. “Why don’t we go over a few things? I can show
you the designs I have for this property we are fighting for, and
by then I’m sure Edna, my secretary, will show up.”

Melinda dutifully followed him,
admiring the way his trousers hugged the curve of his tight
ass.

God, help me.

* * *

An hour later, she was perched on a
corner of his wide, cherry-stained desk that was covered with a
three-foot sheet of architectural plans.

“
Looks good,” she offered,
clueless as to what he was gesturing to.

“
The offices can reside in
this tower, and at the top we will put some pricey
penthouse-condos. That should make the city leaders happy by
bringing in more taxable housing. Lord knows, they could use it.
This property has been sitting empty for a number of years, so the
revenue will be a boon for the area.”

Melinda noted the way his sleek hands
glided over the long paper, then stopped and casually traced some
random spot.

“
If this works, Melinda, it
will open a whole lot of doors for the city, and for
us.”

She quickly raised her eyes to him.
“‘Us’?”

“
We’re a team.” He began
rolling up the plans. “If today is any indication of what you can
do, then we have a bright future ahead.”

“
I’m glad you’re
pleased.”

He rolled the paper into a tight tube.
“Just keep telling me what you’re feeling about the people we meet,
and I will do the rest.”

Melinda sat back on the desk. “Do you
think that’s bending the rules a little? Hiring a psychic to read
business partners for you?”

“
Potential business
partners,” he corrected. “If they were already business partners
then I might feel like I was bending the rules. Before they become
partners, there are no rules to bend.”

“
That’s semantics,
Nathan.”

“
No, that’s
business.”

He helped her from the corner of the
desk. When she stood, she momentarily lost her balance on her brand
new, low-heeled shoes. She tilted slightly forward into Nathan and
the roll of plans got crushed in between them. For Melinda, time
stood still. She had yearned for days to be this close to him, and
now that she was, she was terrified.

Glancing down at the flattened roll of
paper, Melinda gasped in horror. “Oh, no. I smooshed your
plans.”

Nathan lowered his face to hers.
“Yeah, you sure did.”

When his lips were just inches from
hers, an abrupt knock on the door made Melinda back
away.

“
Mr. Cole,” a woman called
out as she entered the room.

A very short, round woman with a
bright red face, gray curly hair, and happy blue eyes was standing
in the doorway, staring at them. Wearing a dowdy gray skirt and
ruffled white blouse with black tennis shoes, Melinda pondered what
such a woman could have been hired by Nathan to do.

“
Ah, Edna.” Nathan moved
away from Melinda. “Edna Barker, I would like you to meet my new
assistant, Melinda Harris.”

Edna waddled forward with her hand
outstretched. “So happy to meet you, dear. I’m glad you’re going to
give this man some help. Me, as well. I’ve been telling Mr. Cole
for months that he needs two secretaries, not just me.” She took
Melinda’s hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. “Hope you’re all
settled in next door?”

As Melinda let go of Edna’s chubby
hand, a waft of the older woman’s very sweet perfume accosted her
nose. “Yes, Ms. Barker, I’m all settled in,” Melinda assured her as
she tried to breathe with restraint.

Edna flourished her hand playfully in
the air. “I’m Edna, sweetie, just Edna. You let me know if you ever
need anything. I’m in apartment 310, and my door is always
open.”

“
Thank you, Edna. That’s
very kind.”

“
Kind, hell.” Edna plopped
down a five-gallon black purse on the smaller cherry-stained desk
by the door. “We’re all family here at The Shallows.”

Nathan groaned. “I hate it when you
call the building by that name, Edna. Knowing the history of this
place is bad enough without being reminded of it by that awful
name.”

Edna chuckled, a light, tinkling sort
of laugh that did not match her boisterous exterior. “Mr. Cole
hates it when we call this old warehouse The Shallows. He thinks
it’s a creepy name.”

“
It is creepy, Edna.”
Nathan asserted as he put his squashed plans on his
desk.

“
But you’re fascinated by
the history of this place, Mr. Cole, admit it. Why else would you
have that collection of gruesome relics on your wall? I suspect the
history behind this building is the reason you bought The Shallows
in the first place.” She turned her eyes to Melinda. “Mr. Cole is a
pre-Civil War history nut.”