One To Win. Michelle Monkou

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One To Win - Michelle Monkou


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softness.

      He had to concentrate to quell the desire to run up the stairs and nervously wait for the okay to embrace her. Instead he gripped the rail and concentrated on each measured step. His gaze stayed put on her face, gauging her stoic expression for any clue to her thoughts.

      Did her excitement match his?

      Did her pulse pound in anticipation of the first moment that they would have to talk to each other?

      Did she suffer from the same anxious twitches in the stomach, rapid breathing and sudden dryness of the mouth?

      His foot took the last step onto the second floor. Time to act unfazed. He took a deep breath and exhaled. “Hi, Fiona.”

      She nodded, curt and unsmiling. Her lips pressed tight with no twitch of a smile to acknowledge him.

      “We’ll be off so you can catch up.” Again Belinda took off with her cousin, arm in arm, heading down the hall away from where he and Fiona stood like statues.

      The woman, although standing still watching him, was no statue. Three years might not be a significant length of time relative to a decade or a century. But face-to-face with her beauty—natural and exquisite—those thousand-plus days stretched out like eternity. His gaze covered her entire body, and he noted that not much had changed. Average height, hair styled into gentle curls that fell just past her shoulders. Slender frame. More on the thin side, which he knew was due to her forgetfulness about eating rather than vanity. In her dress, arms bare, legs were free to be admired. He drank in the sight of her smooth skin.

      He tucked his hands in his pockets to mask the nervousness, their need to trace the lines of her limbs, to brush his fingers along the delicious brown palette of her skin.

      “Good to see you,” she said, although her expression didn’t quite match the greeting.

      “You, too,” he replied. Her physical beauty hadn’t changed, but there was something different about her. A fleeting nuance to her, or around her, that he couldn’t quite pin down. Something that was more on the inside than the outside.

      “I was surprised to hear that you were coming here. Work or pleasure?”

      “Work.” He didn’t mean to bark. “I’m working on...a project.”

      She walked toward him and it took everything in him to stay his ground. The soft scent of her perfume teased him, letting him know that she might be near at hand but was completely untouchable.

      “And what is that project? What exactly is here that requires your service while we’re on vacation?” Her eyes issued a challenge.

      “It’s of a personal nature. With your grandmother.”

      She cocked her head to the side. Her steady eye contact pierced at his defenses. “This mysterious project must be urgent.”

      He shrugged. “That, I don’t know.”

      “I guess you’ll find out soon.” She turned to walk away but then stopped. “How long are you staying?”

      “As long as your grandmother needs me to be here.”

      “That must be an awful lot of underwear to pack.” She gave him a smile through the teasing, the first one she’d offered since seeing him.

      Leo grasped at it, like a thirsty man at a well. He grinned back and nodded. “Pretty much. I’m all set.”

      “That’s nice to know, Mr. Starks.” The sharp, no-nonsense comment from a familiar older voice had the effect of a flash freeze over him and Fiona.

      Grace Meadows walked into view. He’d seen her only in suits and always dressed quite professionally. Today her appearance had switched from the severe conservative businesswoman to a softer, relaxed image.

      “Mr. Starks, you’re staring. Fiona, you’re no better. Don’t you have something to get into with your cousins?” Grace motioned for her granddaughter to get moving.

      Leo couldn’t help staring, but his focus wasn’t due to what Grace had said. The visual effect of the older and younger women standing close together was remarkable. Of course, they were related, but their striking similarities in poise and beauty hadn’t really hit him until now, in this awkwardly growing moment.

      Before he could explain, Fiona flew from the scene, stealing glances over her shoulder. Meanwhile, he saw her future mature elegance within the matriarch of the family, who stood next to him with a stern look on her face.

      Grace cleared her throat. “Will you need to rest up?”

      “Not necessary at all.”

      “Good. Meet me downstairs in my office and we’ll get started. We can talk over coffee.”

      Leo didn’t move until Grace had walked down to the first floor. Then he took a deep breath and gazed down the empty hallway where Fiona had disappeared. She’d have to wait.

      He didn’t need any further reminders from Grace that this wasn’t a vacation. Instead of heading down the opposite hallway to his room, he went back downstairs and retrieved his briefcase from Denton, who was on his way up with the luggage.

      “In here, Mr. Starks.”

      “Mrs. Meadows, we’ve worked together. I’d feel a lot more comfortable if you’d call me Leo.” He paused. “And I will call you Grace.”

      She nodded. “Perfect tone to set. Leo. Please help yourself to breakfast. Then let’s get to work.”

      Leo nodded and aimed for the coffee. He didn’t have much of an appetite and probably wouldn’t until he found out the real reason why he was there.

      “I want my will amended.”

      He nodded, acknowledging the assignment to work on the will that he’d been given by the senior partner. The task would require more than his eyes and attention, but she’d insisted that he should be the only one to work on it. Although her compliments boosted his ego, her sole choice of him for this job was odd.

      “Before we get the will adjusted to my new specifications, I would like to move your attention to a more pressing matter.”

      “Okay.” Leo set down the coffee cup. The mysterious tone added another layer to the tension that had his gut doing a dance, waiting for Grace’s full explanation.

      “It’s a delicate matter...”

      “May I remind you that I am ethical?”

      “Oh, I wasn’t questioning that, but I did sense that you are friends with my granddaughter.” She tapped her finger against her cheek as she studied him. “You are friendly with Fiona?”

      “No...yes...well, a long time ago. We parted ways.” Leo hadn’t stuttered like this since middle school. “Today was the first time since we’d...”

      “Ah, young people these days like to tiptoe toward each other.” She steepled her hands. “Well, this makes things even more delicate. You see...I am handing over the entire matter for you to handle because I’m confident that you can.”

      “Good to have your support. But maybe that will change once I know what it is and if I’m really capable of meeting your expectations.” Leo had the feeling that whatever Grace was dancing around would not have an easy solution.

      “One month ago, I learned that my daughter Verona had another child. A son.” Grace clutched her napkin. “I want him found—quickly and quietly.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Leo needed a moment to let the news sink in. “I’m not a detective.”

      “I don’t expect you to personally find the boy. Well, by now, he’s a man. And when he is found, I want him included in my will.”

      “But I don’t know how long this will take.”

      “I am sure that it won’t take long. And with everyone here


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