The Naughty List Bundle with The Night Before Christmas & Yule Be Mine. Fern Michaels
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well.” He paused to allow the murmuring to begin…and build.
“Mr. Gallagher, this has nothing to do—”
“Please, kindly allow me to respond to your statements just now,” he interrupted, careful to keep his smile wide and his tone jovial. And if his accent deepened just a little bit, well, they’d just think it was because he was feeling the moment. “I’ve no desire—or I should say, we’ve no desire to cloak or mute any of the wonderful qualities that make Hamilton the special place it is to all of you. We’re aware and deeply respectful that this isn’t simply where you’ve started your businesses, but where you’ve chosen to live your lives, raise your children. Hamilton Industries has never done anything to thwart your growth potential, quite the opposite.
“You’ve trusted us with your livelihoods, your families…you have no need to doubt that your trust is still well-placed.” He turned to the audience in general. “I urge you all to read the information and to bring any and all concerns and questions to our full town meeting. Not only will there be Hamilton board members there but also your very own town councilmen, whom you’ve put into office. We’ll all answer every question you have.”
He saw Melody raise her hand, knew she was going to take back the floor, so he preempted her next strike. “And Miss Duncastle,” he went on, turning on every bit of charm he had. “I’d like a private meeting with you, directly, if possible. It’s important to me, especially after this morning, that you feel comfortable and confident about the plans for Hamilton.” He flashed a wider smile. “I promise I’m no’ the bad guy here, Melody.”
The crowd’s attention shifted from him to the baker. There was a collective holding of breath. The use of her first name had created an almost palpable intimacy, despite their location. The power was firmly back in his hands.
As his gaze locked on hers, he knew he’d have felt a lot better about his chances if that same palpable intimacy hadn’t affected him as much as it did the crowd. He’d have thought her outburst would have cured him of any kind of attraction toward her. But while his mind saw her as an adversary, and a more worthy opponent than he might have thought, his body had completely different ideas about the best way to handle Melody Duncastle. With the handling part playing a prominent role.
“Everyone, thank you for coming,” he said, breaking the silence. “Miss Duncastle, we’ll talk.” And with that, he removed his mouthpiece and left the stage. Some might have viewed the move as a cowardly retreat. He viewed it as a preemptive strike. Concluding the meeting while he was still in control gave him time to regroup before they reconvened. Of course, he had no doubt at all that she’d be regrouping as well.
That thought shouldn’t have made him grin.
But it did.
He was still smiling that evening when he approached the door to her shop just as she was flipping the sign to CLOSED. That hadn’t happened by coincidence.
She paused in mid-flip, her distracted expression changing swiftly when she spied him. Her expression was smooth, polite even, but there was a distinct chill in her magnificent deep blue eyes.
He could live with that.
She pulled the door open, but blocked his entry with her body planted directly in the doorway. “I believe we discussed your patronage here.”
“I’m merely here to set up a convenient time for us to meet.”
“I don’t believe I agreed to any such thing.”
“Melody—”
“Miss Duncastle to you.”
He chuckled at that, and could have sworn he saw the slightest lift at the corner of her mouth. So perhaps he had more of an opening than he’d thought. She’d given him his edge with her comment about his accent. He’d used it quite shamelessly at the meeting. Oddly, he found himself less willing to press the advantage. An illogical reaction, to be certain. He didn’t need to impress her, just gain her trust. What better way than to turn on the charm?
“I was sincere in my offer, and my intent,” he said truthfully.
“If your intent was to charm me into believing your snake-oil-salesman pitch earlier today, I’m afraid you’ll be wasting your time.”
All right. Perhaps not so much of an opening after all.
She smiled.
“Be open-minded enough to hear me out,” he pressed. “You weren’t there for the entire presentation.”
“I’m pretty sure I got the bullet points.”
Perhaps he should have gone with the brogue offense.
“I appreciate your stopping by, but, as you know, I’m a bit behind in production today and have a long night ahead of me.”
“Perhaps I can be of some assistance—since my meeting was at least partly responsible for your work stoppage.”
She lifted one perfectly arched brow. It didn’t explain at all why his gaze dropped to her lips.
“What do you know about baking?”
“You forget, I grew up in a family-owned restaurant. Several of them, in fact.”
“I was given to understand you were something of a renegade where your family business was concerned. You have nothing to do with those restaurants, am I correct? And haven’t in some time.”
He tilted his head, wondered just how severely he’d underestimated her. “You’ve taken a personal interest in me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I don’t believe I was. You’ve done your research.”
“You also grew up in a small town. Village,” she corrected, rather dryly. “So you must know there’s no need to do much research, merely listen to the village grapevine.”
“You’ve been riding me about the village thing. It’s merely a cultural distinction. What is a town to you, a burg, is a village where I’m from.”
She snorted. “Come now, Mr. Gallagher, you know quite well your use of that term was intended to make us feel oh-so-cozy.”
“Griffin. I’m no’ so averse to such familiarity.” He rubbed his arms, though he honestly wasn’t feeling the chill in the air one bit. “Perhaps we could continue this conversation inside?”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“Because?” He employed the twinkle, although, in his defense, he wasn’t thinking tactically at that particular moment.
She rolled her eyes. “Because I don’t need any distractions.”
“Am I, then?”
“You know you are. You’re a threat to everything I hold dear.”
“Ah. I thought we were speaking personally.”
“We weren’t speaking at all. Now, if you don’t mind—”
“Melody.”
She paused.
“Let me in. Please. I’ll trade work for talk. I’m a hard worker.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” She made him sweat another long moment, then finally, with great resignation, stepped back and opened the door wide enough for him to step inside. “You’re not the type to give up, and I don’t have time for this, so let’s get it over with. But, fair warning, if I’m not getting my work done,” she informed him as he took off his overcoat, “I’ll be asking you to leave. And I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Aye. I’m well acquainted with your abilities in that area.”
She nodded. “Good. Follow me.”
He took a deep