Dark Perception: The Corde Noire Series (10 page)

“
Neither.” She admired the
golden champagne in her glass. “Like most relationships, I figured
it just didn’t work out.”

“
I forgot about the
mystical power of the obvious.” He collected his glass from the
bar. “So what do you think of my haunted building?”

“
There’s a woman in that
storage room at the end of my hall, a man in chains is in the
lobby, and the music selection in your elevator is probably keeping
them from ever wanting to haunt there.”

Nathan almost spit out the champagne
in his mouth and his boisterous laughter reverberated throughout
the living room. Melinda took a sip from her champagne, pleased by
his reaction.

“
Last year, I had two
psychics go through this building,” he told her. “They picked up
the guy in the lobby, but never mentioned a woman in this
apartment. And no one has ever had the courage to tell me about the
elevator music.”

Melinda placed her drink on the bar.
“Did you know about the ghost in this apartment?”

Nathan shook his head. “I never
encountered anything here. I stayed in this apartment last year
when they were redecorating my penthouse.”

“
You should have told me
about your building, Nathan.”

“
I didn’t want to frighten
you. I figured you, above all people, would be fine living with
ghosts.”

“
I’m a psychic, not a
medium.”

He set his glass on the bar. “Is there
a difference?”

“
Different people see
different things. I do better with future events and emotions. I
don’t like talking to the dead.”

“
But you can do it?” His
voice rose, showing his excitement. “Talk to the dead.”

She turned away and went to the sofa
in the living room. Tucking her feet underneath her, Melinda
sighed. “Yes, I can see the dead and hear them, if I want
to.”

Nathan followed her to the sofa. “So
why don’t you want to?”

Melinda rubbed her hands together,
evading Nathan’s curious gaze. “I never saw dead people until … my
mother. After she shot herself in our barn, I kept seeing her
around the farm. I was too afraid to say anything, but my
grandmother knew something was wrong. Grandma Teresa told me if I
didn’t wish to speak to the dead, I had to tell them to go away and
leave me alone.” Melinda paused and took a deep breath as the pain
of her past pressed against her heart. “So the next time I saw
Momma, I told her to go away. Initially, she didn’t do anything,
then she smiled at me and slowly faded from view. For days after, I
cried into my pillow, wishing I had not sent her away. After that,
I decided I was never going to speak to the dead again.”

Nathan curled his arm around her
shoulders. The gesture was meant to comfort her, but to Melinda,
the feel of him, the warmth of his body, even the scent of his
cologne overwhelmed her. Her mind exploded with visions of his
naked body next to her, holding him close as his hands explored
every inch of her.

“
How old were you when your
mother committed suicide?”
His voice brought Melinda back. Was she seeing the future, or
Nathan’s unspoken desires?

“
Melinda?”

She stared into his eyes and then she
felt it—that burning in the pit of her gut. Soon, the heat began to
radiate outward to her limbs.

“
I was six.” She pictured
polar ice caps and glaciers to cool her runaway fire.

“
That’s awfully young to
lose a parent, especially like that. You’re lucky you had your
grandmother.”

Melinda slipped out from under his arm
and stood from the sofa. “Yes, Grandma Teresa saved me.” She dashed
across the living room and scooped up her glass of champagne.
Frantically, she downed three large gulps.

“
Hey.” Nathan came to her
side. “I didn’t realize talking about your mother would upset you
so.”

Melinda reveled in the rush of the
alcohol. Finally, the burning in her gut melted away.

“
It’s not that.” She stared
at her glass, afraid to face him.

Nathan moved in closer and lifted her
head. “Then what is it?”

He gently removed a stray strand of
hair from her face and placed it behind her ear. When his eyes
connected with hers, the images of the two of them came blazing
back to life, even more powerful than before.

“
You’re doing that on
purpose!” she shouted, slamming her flute down on the
bar.

“
What?” Nathan seemed
astonished by her reaction.

She backed away from him. “You’re
thinking those thoughts.”

“
What thoughts?”

Melinda searched his eyes while he
inched closer.

Nathan’s mouth became a thin line,
adding to the tension in the air. “I think I should go. You’ve had
a long day. We can talk again tomorrow after you get settled in. We
will need to go over my agenda.”

What’s wrong with
me?
Get a grip
.

Running her fingertips over her
forehead, she struggled to clear her mind. “What
agenda?”

Nathan picked up his glass and downed
the contents. “I have meetings scheduled this week and next about
that property development we spoke of the other day.” He shifted
his eyes to her. “There’s a formal cocktail party at the home of a
New Orleans socialite next weekend. She’s interested in my plans
for that property and wants to talk to me about funding the
project. You’re to accompany me to the party and all of my
meetings, then you can tell me what you feel about these people.”
His eyes traveled over her T-shirt and torn jeans. “You’ll need to
dress professionally for the meetings, and you’ll need a formal
gown for the party. I’ll have Bob take you to Canal Place for some
new clothes.”

“
I can’t afford new
clothes, Nathan.”

He raised his brown eyes to her. “I’ll
take care of that, not to worry.”

“
You’ve given me this
apartment, furniture, even a new television. I can’t have you
buying me clothes, too.”

“
Melinda, you’re going to
be my assistant. I can’t have you escorting me places dressed like
that.” He motioned to her clothes. “You need to look the
part.”

Melinda wanted to argue with him, but
she thought better of it. He wanted to buy her some new outfits,
what of it? After all, this is what she had always wanted—to be
taken care of.

“
Yes, Nathan.” She gave him
a weak smile.

“
Good girl.” He abruptly
headed for the door. “I’ll come by tomorrow evening and we can go
over my itinerary in detail. I have a new cell phone coming for you
tomorrow, as well as a credit card. Use the card to buy your
clothes and anything you may need for your job.”

“
A credit card? Are you
sure you want to trust me with that?”

Nathan smirked with amusement. “Just
make sure you don’t go too crazy. I still have to justify it all to
my accountant at the end of the month as a business
expense.”

“
Is that why you’re telling
everyone I’m your assistant?”

He frowned at her. “What do you
mean?”

“
If you tell people I’m
your assistant, even though you already have a secretary, don’t you
think that will look funny?”

He squinted his eyes, appearing
interested in her reasoning. “Funny, in what way?”

“
Perhaps everyone thinks
I’m not here as an assistant, but as something else.”

“
What else?” he questioned
with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“
You know what else,
Nathan.” She turned away, but he held her arm.

“
What else,
Melinda?”

Melinda analyzed his magnetic eyes and
then she knew. The images she had seen earlier of them together
were his. She could feel it as sure as she could feel the warmth of
his hand.

Nathan let her go. “I hired you to be
my psychic, that’s all. If others read more into the relationship
than that, it’s their problem.”

Despite what he told her, Melinda
sensed Nathan wanted her, but something was holding him back,
something she could not see. In her mind’s eye, she searched for an
answer, but only foggy images came through.

“
I’m very happy you’re
here,” he said, and then he kissed her cheek.

Melinda almost grabbed for the
doorframe to keep from falling to her knees. The unexpected wave of
electricity from the caress of his lips was
catastrophic.

“
Get some rest,” he told
her. “We have a big week ahead, and you have your work cut out for
you.”

Confused, Melinda watched him make his
way back to his penthouse. Perhaps he hadn’t sent those images to
her.

Was it me?

Melinda quickly shut the door and
threw her body against it. “Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Right after Melinda spoke the words, a
wave of fear enveloped her. She turned to her living room, and as
quickly as it had come, the feeling departed. She gazed about the
room, reaching out with her mind to whatever entity had called to
her, but nothing came.

Shaking it off, Melinda picked up a
box and carried it to her bedroom. When she stepped into the hall,
the doorway to the storage room was wide open and the light inside
was on. Setting the box on the floor, she went to the room and
looked around. Nothing appeared to her, and there were no moans or
rattling of chains. But as she stood in the square room, the hairs
on her arms stood up. In her mouth, there was the acrid taste of
dread. Melinda fought her instinct to flee, and instead opened her
mind.

“
I feel your fear,” she
pronounced.

Then a woman’s soft voice whispered in
her ear, “Run.”

Melinda’s eyes flew open. She backed
out of the room, flipped off the lights, and shut the door. She
stood in the hall staring at the handle on the door as her
trepidation faded. There was no lock on the door, no way to secure
it. She had a sudden urge to make sure this door stayed closed,
because what was inside that room scared her.

“
What the hell happened in
this building?”

She closed her eyes and centered
herself. Imagining a white cloud of protection around her, Melinda
pushed away all the negative impressions hovering in the air. As
she blew out her frustration in a long breath, Melinda opened her
eyes. Once again, she was at ease and the dark forces on the other
side of the door had been silenced. Heading back into the living
room, she went to the kitchen and picked up the champagne bottle
from the breakfast bar.

“
Just in case that doesn’t
work.” She gulped down the alcohol. “This is the second best way I
know to shut out the voices in my head.”

Chapter 7

Melinda waited
outside the glass entrance to the mall on Canal Street. All about,
people were carrying maps and cameras as they took in the sights of
downtown New Orleans. In the distance, Melinda spotted a round
woman with dazzling pink hair tossing in the brisk spring breeze
from the nearby Mississippi River. Wearing her usual loose-fitting
cotton dress—this time in yellow—Ellie exhibited one of her warm
smiles.

“
Are you ready to spend some of your man’s money?” Ellie gave
a raspy chuckle.

Melinda hugged
her friend. “He’s not my man. He’s my boss,” she clarified, pulling
away.

“
Honey, if he gave you a credit card, he’s your
man.”

“
He
gave me the credit card because he wants me to look
professional.”

“
Professional is my specialty. I used to have to wear it
myself years ago.” Ellie inspected her ratty blue jeans and dirty
tennis shoes. “I figured that’s why you wanted me to come
along.”

“
I
don’t know the first thing about being professional. I sure hope I
can pull this off. I’d really hate to lose this job.”

Ellie gestured
to the mall doors. “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ll make you look
professional and sexy.”

“
Just professional, Ellie. Leave out the sexy.”

“
Not on my watch.”

Undaunted,
Melinda made her way toward the glass entrance. When they stepped
inside, the rush of air-conditioning greeted them. It reminded
Melinda of when she’d first walked into The Shallows, but this cool
breeze had no entities hidden inside it.

“
How’s the new place?” Ellie spoke up behind her.

Melinda
started for Saks Fifth Avenue. “Really … big.”

“
How’s Nathan?”

“
Fine.”

Ellie caught
up to her. “Have you two…?”

Melinda
stopped and faced her, her mouth ajar. “You’re joking!”

“
What?” Ellie appeared shocked. “You mean to tell me you
haven’t thought about sleeping with him?”

Melinda
snorted. “No!”

“
Liar. Look at you. You’re wound up tighter than a preacher in
a whorehouse. I knew something was wrong the moment I saw you.”
Ellie tugged on her arm. “Talk to me.”