Risqué Business (Club Risqué #8)

Chapter 1

MELODY AND MICAH

“ W hat do you think?” Micah asked as they walked around what must be the tenth property he’d brought her to see in the past few weeks.

None of them had been right, and this one was no different. “Too many neighbours,” Melody said, looking out of the lounge window at the quiet, neatly kept street. She shuddered, getting that odd feeling she was being watched again. Automatically, she checked the street, but there was nothing out of place. No one who looked like they shouldn’t be there. She hated the paranoia.

Micah sighed, walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, giving them a squeeze. Melody had to resist the urge to lean into him and soak up his strength. She was supposed to be standing on her own two feet, and this was the first step. She knew it was important for her to become independent and find her own way in life.

But she hated it.

She had more than enough money to fund her new life after the surprise bequeathment from Thomas Sutton, her adoptive ‘daddy’ in more than one sense of the word.

She didn’t really want the money. It was tainted as far as Melody was concerned. When they said money was the root of all evil, they were right. Daddy’s money had led to his murder and Melody’s incarceration at the hands of Vinny the Brute, who’d thought he had some entitlement to it.

However, without any other means, Melody knew she couldn’t sponge off others indefinitely, so the money was a necessity.

There was a lot of it. Daddy had been very wealthy.

And now, she was.

“It’s a small development,” Micah told her. “I thought you’d prefer it after you said you didn’t like the seclusion of the last property, and the built-up nature of the one before that.”

“I’m sorry…” she began.

“Don’t be sorry.” Micah rubbed her arms and Melody closed her eyes, wishing they could stay like this forever. “I know this is all new to you. You’ll find the right place eventually. When you see it, it will jump out at you, and you’ll immediately love it.”

Guilt suffused her, and Melody worried her lip, knowing she should be honest. Micah had done so much for her; she owed him that.

But how could she tell him that she was never going to find the right house, no matter how many they looked at?

Because the right house didn’t exist unless he was going to be in it with her.

“Which one did you like best?” she asked tentatively. Perhaps if she chose that one, he’d move in with her. Or would he feel emasculated living in a house that Melody had bought? She knew men could be funny like that.

“It doesn’t matter which one I like.”

Micah responded exactly the way she knew he would.

“It’s your house. You’re the one who’s going to live there, so it can be whatever you want. And if this one doesn’t work for you, then we’ll find another.”

Melody sighed. “I’ve already taken up too much of your time. Perhaps…”

“Perhaps what, sweetheart?” he asked when she trailed off.

Shrugging, she tried to find the words, but none would come. “Perhaps I should ask one of the girls to help me. Charlotte or Luanna maybe.”

“That might work. Perhaps a female input is what’s needed here. They’ve both made homes for themselves, they might be better equipped to help than I am.”

Why did he always have to be so damn understanding and reasonable?

And why did that irritate her so much? He was only thinking about her and her needs. It was churlish to be so ungrateful after everything Micah had done.

Then be honest with him, her conscience screamed.

But what if she did that and then found he didn’t want to set up a home with her?

There it was - her biggest fear.

Melody knew Micah was also looking for a new place to live… had been for a while now. They’d had that conversation way back, when she’d asked him how come he was living at a kink club. He’d explained he was taking his time to find the perfect place, because he was looking for his ‘forever’ home.

Since he hadn’t asked her to look with him, did that mean he didn’t see her as a part of his forever home?

Melody forced some starch into her spine. God, she was being pathetic. After everything she’d lived through, all the pain and trauma, she’d finally found her freedom and yet she still wanted more. It wasn’t enough that she suddenly had tons of money, didn’t need to go out to work to earn her keep, and could buy pretty much any property she wanted, outright. Oh no, like some whiny bitch she thought the world owed her even more. How selfish could one person be? Lord, she was pathetic.

She really needed to get over herself.