One Week to Win His Heart

Just as their desserts were being brought around, George stood and removed his suit jacket. Melody found her gaze drawn to his movements and she watched from beneath her lashes, mesmerised by the way his triceps flexed beneath the material of his shirt. It almost made her hyperventilate. She took a sip from her water glass, breathing in as she swallowed.

Melody spluttered and started to cough. George patted her on the back and everyone at their table stopped talking and watched her.

‘You all right, Melody?’ George asked as he sat down again.

His concern was touching and she looked at him with an embarrassed grin. She coughed again and nodded. ‘I’m…’ another cough ‘…fine.’ She didn’t sound fine, even to her own ears, as the word had come out like a tiny squeak. Melody cleared her throat. ‘Fine,’ she reiterated more strongly. Everyone resumed their conversations and she’d half expected George to continue talking to Carmel. Instead, he leaned over and refilled her water glass.

‘Try it again.’ He held the glass out to her and she took it, their fingertips touching—just for an instant. It was enough to spread a deep warmth throughout her body, causing her to gasp quietly. She was so aware of him it was ridiculous. Why couldn’t she control these sensations?

Her smile faded but she did as he suggested, conscious of the way he watched her actions. Their gazes held and Melody found herself powerless to look away. She rested the glass on her lower lip. As she tilted the liquid towards her mouth, she exhaled slowly, her breath steaming up the glass. She sipped and swallowed, replacing the glass on the table before her trembling fingers dropped it.

‘There,’ he whispered, but didn’t smile. ‘All better.’ His gorgeous brown eyes were intense. Melody felt momentarily hypnotised. Within an instant George had somehow made her feel…desirable.

‘George will know.’ Carmel’s voice intruded into the little bubble that surrounded them.

* * *

George tried desperately to listen to what Carmel was asking, all the while trying to figure out what had just happened with Melody Janeway. He’d been mesmerised by her again. Was it the way her lips had trembled ever so slightly as she’d rested the glass on her lip? Or the way they’d parted to allow the liquid to pass between them. He swallowed convulsively and pushed thoughts of her from his mind, even though he seemed conscious of her every move.

Carmel was still talking and although George could see her lips moving, he was having great difficulty in concentrating. Thankfully, the last few words sank in and he was able to answer the question in an authoritative and controlled manner.

Melody rose to her feet and quietly excused herself. George glanced at her, noticing the way she smoothed her skirt down over her thighs. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it and he wondered if it meant she was nervous. Not that he was objecting to the action, for each time she did it, it drew attention to her gorgeous legs.

Why was she nervous? Had she felt that unmistakable pull of attraction between them? Or was she always this jittery? He wouldn’t know. He didn’t know the woman and yet the sensations he felt when around her had occurred several times during their very short acquaintance. It was like nothing he’d experienced before but he’d assumed the sensations were solely on his side. Did she feel it? The question kept reverberating around at the back of his mind as he tried to concentrate on the discussion at their table.

A mouth-watering chocolate dessert was placed before him but he pushed it away, not interested. He’d had enough of food—for the moment.

‘Are you all right?’ Carmel asked quietly, leaning closer to him to ensure her words didn’t carry to the other people around them.

‘Fine. Why?’

‘Because you can’t seem to stop staring at our hostess for this week.’

George was stunned at his friend’s words. ‘What? I wasn’t staring at her,’ he whispered vehemently.

‘It’s OK, George. It just means you’re normal and Melody is a very attractive woman, but not my type. Definitely more your type.’

‘I don’t have a type. I’m in mourning.’

‘You can’t stay in mourning for ever, George. You and I both know that’s not the life Veronique would have wanted for you. Besides,’ Carmel continued quickly before he could say anything, ‘it’s not every day a woman really captures your attention. Melody’s the first I’ve noticed you taking an interest in throughout the entire tour.’

‘That doesn’t mean to say I’m going to act on it.’

‘Aha. You do like her. I knew it.’