The hum of a refrigerator and the lingering fragrance of cooked food led her through an open door into a space dimly lit by a fluorescent light over the stove.
Once inside, she opened the refrigerator door. Finding a small wedge of cheese and a bottle of Perrier was easy. Searching out where the bread was stored posed more of a challenge, but at last she opened a metal box on the granite counter and hit pay dirt—one full loaf and half of a baguette. Taking the baguette, cheese, and Perrier, she left the kitchen.
***
Thoughts of Melanie had made Drew restless. Knowing she was right down the hall, he tossed and turned. Then a sound penetrated the thin veil of sleep. The stairs creaked.
At first he wondered if Melanie might be going down, but a second later he realized someone was coming up. Was it her? Had she gone down without him hearing and was now returning? Or was it an intruder?
He got out of bed, pulled on his briefs, and grabbed a robe out of the armoire. His security system was top-notch, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be breached by a clever thief hoping to steal the Monet hanging in the hallway. And an intruder would be a threat to more than his art collection. Melanie was sleeping in a bedroom nearby.
Stepping silently into the hall, poised for action, he waited for whoever was climbing the stairs. They were breathing hard from the exertion. It could be Melanie, but why would she go downstairs in the middle of the night?
Belatedly he realized that if this was an intruder, he had no weapon but his fists. No baseball bat or tire iron. A vase, two centuries old and valued in the high six figures, sat on a table in the hall. He picked it up.
As a shadowy figure rose from the stairwell, he started forward, vase raised. Melanie screamed a split second after he recognized her. Something sailed past his head and thudded against the wall as she yelled again, this time sounding like a samurai warrior. She cocked her arm as if to throw something else at him.
“Melanie! It’s me!” He set down the vase and backed up, palms facing her, heart racing. Jesus. She’d scared the hell out of him, and obviously he’d returned the favor.
“Drew?” Her voice shook and she lowered her arm.
“Yeah.” He sucked in a breath.
“Oh, God.” She clutched the banister. “I was hungry, but I didn’t want to wake anybody.”
Three floors below, footsteps pounded up the servants’ stairway. It sounded like a minor stampede.
“Guess that didn’t work out,” she said.
“Monsieur Eldridge?” a man called from below. “Q’est-ce que c’est? Désirez-vous la police?”
“No, Henri, no police.” Drew walked to the head of the stairs and peered over the banister at Henri, who stood below in his nightshirt. Henri also served as his houseman. “Mademoiselle had a scare. All’s well.”
“Ah. Bonne nuit.” After some murmured conversations, Henri and the other servants retreated down the stairs and closed their bedroom doors.
“I feel terrible.” Melanie climbed the remaining steps to stand before him. “Some guest I am, raiding the refrigerator and rousing the entire household.”
“I should have guessed it was you, but all I could think was that someone had broken in, so I—”
“Rushed to defend the castle. That’s so you.”
It was true he seemed to go into protector mode whenever she was concerned. “Are you still hungry, or did I scare that idea straight out of your head?”
She hesitated, as if taking inventory. “Still hungry. My heart rate is almost back to normal, which means I can now hear my tummy growling. But I threw the wedge of cheese when I saw you coming, so no telling what shape it’s in. Thank God you said something before I hit you with the Perrier.”
“Or I bashed you with a priceless vase.” Now that the crisis was over and nobody was hurt, he could see the funny side of it. “Let’s get a little light on the situation.” Stepping over to the wall, he hit a switch and glass sconces flickered to life. He loved those crazy things, which he’d found in Venice.
“Pretty!”
And so was she. No, not just pretty. Beautiful. His glance swept over glossy curls tousled from sleep, a freckled face still pink from embarrassment, and gray eyes that reflected the dancing light of the sconces. “Glad you like them.” He couldn’t stop gazing at her.
His attention drifted to her rosy mouth. Last time they’d been alone,