Falling For The Millionaire. Merrillee Whren
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including her date. She hoped it would go well, so she could represent The Village properly. She wanted to believe anyone who had an interest in helping a charity was a decent person. Unfortunately, she’d learned over the years that not all donors to good causes were good people. Some had ulterior motives.
Melody took a deep breath, then tried to produce a genuine smile as she opened the door. That breath caught in her throat as she stared up at Hudson Paine Conrick, the Fourth. In his black tuxedo he was handsome beyond description. His dark hair curled and waved in a rumpled kind of way. The five-o’clock shadow he sported gave him a dangerous look—at least where a woman’s heart was concerned.
A Ferrari.
No doubt.
He gave her a lazy grin. “Ms. Hammond, Hudson Conrick. Nice to meet you.”
Melody nodded, hoping her brain would engage her tongue. “Please come in while I get my wrap, Mr. Conrick.”
“Certainly. You look lovely, though it’s a shame you have to cover that stunning red evening gown with anything.” He stepped across the threshold.
“Thank you, but a pashmina doesn’t cover much. Thankfully, it’s not too cold tonight.” Smiling, Melody tried not to assign any connotation to his compliment as she grabbed her purse and wrap from the nearby hall table.
“Fortunately, Atlanta is having a mild January.” Hudson opened the door for her.
“Thanks.” She threw the wrap around her shoulders, then locked the door. Turning toward the driveway, she stopped short at the sight of a black limousine. She caught herself before she blurted, Wow! A limo! Was he trying to show off? She shouldn’t question their mode of transportation, just enjoy it.
As they approached the vehicle, the driver appeared out of nowhere and opened the door. Melody slid across the black-and-gray leather seats, a combination of butter and silk beneath her fingers. The smell of cleaner permeated the warm interior. A television in one corner broadcasted business news while soft music played in the background. A lit workstation with a laptop computer and a bar filled with rows of glasses sat across from her.
Melody pressed her lips together to keep her mouth from hanging open at the obvious display of wealth. Who was entitled to this much luxury when people were starving?
She had to stop her judgmental attitude. This man was donating a lot of money to her cause. She had no right to disparage his wealth.
As Hudson slid in beside her, he turned off the TV. “Sorry about that. I’m sure you don’t want business news blaring at you.”
Melody shrugged and let her pashmina fall from her shoulders. “No problem, Mr. Conrick.”
Smiling, he reached for a glass from the bar, filled it with ice and poured water into it. “Would you like one? Or a soft drink?”
“Water’s fine, thanks.”
He poured another glass of water, then handed it to her. “Shall we toast to a wonderful evening?”
“Sure.” She clinked her glass against his and wondered what she should talk about now. Hudson settled back and looked at her, his eyes, the color of maple syrup, filled with amusement. “Let’s set aside the formality. Please call me Hudson. May I call you Melody?”
The tension in Melody’s shoulders began to wither away. “That would make for a better evening.”
“Agreed.” Hudson grinned. “So you and Ian work together?”
Nodding, Melody wondered whether Ian Montgomery, her co-worker who had set up this date, had any idea how mismatched she and Hudson were. “Yes. In addition to being The Village’s legal guy, he’s the administrator of the nursing facility and senior center.”
Surprise registered on Hudson’s face. “That’s interesting. I knew he handled your legal stuff, but I didn’t know about the rest.”
“All of us in the administration at The Village have multiple roles. I came there to head up the women’s ministries, but I also coordinate the children’s one, too.”
“Must keep you busy.”
“It does.” Melody searched her mind for something to talk about that didn’t sound like a commercial for The Village. “Ian said you went to law school with him. Where do you practice law?”
Hudson gave her a lopsided grin. “I don’t.”
“Oh.” Did she dare ask him what he did? Maybe he was one of those trust-fund babies who did little work and spent time vacationing in trendy locations. Ian had mentioned that Hudson had been overseas.
He chuckled. “I suppose you’re wondering what I do with my time?”
As a heated blush crept up Melody’s neck and onto her cheeks, she was thankful for the dim lighting in the limo. She might as well be honest. “Yes, I’m curious since you don’t practice law.”
A smirk curved his lips for a moment. “I went to law school because my father insisted on it. Otherwise, he would’ve cut me off without any money, and I couldn’t have that, now, could I? Without that money, I wouldn’t have been able to be your escort tonight.”
Was he joking, or was he serious? She resisted the urge to rub away the headache that was forming at her temples. How would she endure a whole night with a guy whose only thought was living off his daddy’s money? She had to be thankful for that money. It was helping to fund this much-needed project.
Melody forced a smile. “That still doesn’t tell me what you do.”
“I try my best to stay out of my father’s hair.” Hudson gave her a sardonic smile.
Another cryptic answer. Maybe he really didn’t do anything, and he didn’t want to admit it. Sounded as if he didn’t get along with his father. Sad. Hudson had a father he didn’t have much use for, and Melody wished her father was still alive. He’d died too young in an airplane crash. “That’s your job? Staying out of your father’s hair?”
Laying his head back, Hudson laughed out loud. When he finally looked at her, his eyes still sparked with laughter. “That’s a good description of what I do.”
“And how does one accomplish that?”
“Excellent question.” Hudson jiggled the ice cubes in his glass as if he would find an answer there. “I work wherever he sends me. I’ve spent the last year in the Middle East looking out for our oil interests. I’ve only been back in the States for a few weeks. My mother insisted that I come home for Christmas.”
Melody’s stomach roiled at the mention of that region of the world. So much trouble. So much misery. So many deaths. “I’m sure your mother was happy.”
Hudson nodded as he smiled wryly. “Yes, and I managed to stay on my father’s good side for all of Christmas Day. You might as well know that my presence at your fund-raiser tonight is all about pleasing him.”
There it was—the ulterior motive. Pleasing his daddy. As reasons went, that one wasn’t all bad. At least Hudson was honest about why he was her escort. She realized she was judging the man again. Maybe his daddy was a real reprobate and staying out of his way was a matter of wisdom. She stared at her glass of ice water. Why couldn’t she put her critical attitude on ice? “I’m glad you could join us this evening.”
“Me, too. It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of going out with a beautiful woman.” Hudson’s gaze didn’t waver as he looked at her.
Melody produced another smile that she feared came across as pretentious as his flattery. How did she acknowledge it? Believe he was sincere? “Thank you for sharing your evening with me and contributing to this very worthy cause.”
He set his glass in the cup holder. “Tell me more about The Village of Hope.”
“Sure.” Melody took a deep breath, wondering whether a wealthy