Chapter One
Melissa Shayne walked out of the bus terminal and sighed.
It was a typical spring afternoon in the heart of Virginia; warm, a slight breeze rustling the leaves of the budding maples that lined Main Street. As she stood on the curb, her bags next to her, she took in the familiar scene before her.
Nothing changes, a little voice inside her seemed to say, although with relief or resignation, she didn’t know. Water still trickled a timeless rhythm against the white marble of the fountain near the Lewis and Clark Memorial at the corner of South and Main. A solitary pigeon perched at the apex of the statue, its stillness a contrast to the movement all around it. I am as alone as that bird, she sighed as she made her way down the sidewalk, only I can’t fly away from here. She looked at her cell phone. “It’s too early to call,” she rationalized out loud. “I’ll wait. Give myself time to take in the old sights.” Give yourself time to grow a spine, you mean, the little voice inside nagged. Putting it off isn’t going to make it any easier.
Strolling past the street-front shops along the avenue, Melissa made her way to an inviting park bench underneath a tall maple. Setting down her suitcase and overnight bag, she gingerly sat down and absorbed the peaceful scene. Gradually she relaxed, removed her jacket, and curled her legs underneath her. Winter still reigned up north, but here the softness of spring surrounded her. In spite of her misgivings, it felt good to be somewhere where the pace of life was much more deliberate. She closed her eyes and leaned back, savoring the clean air and sunshine filtering through the leaves. It was so different from New York City, yet different from her memories too.
* * *
“Miss Shayne?”
A deep, rough voice startled her out of her meditation. She opened her eyes and found herself staring at a silver belt buckle shaped like a bird of prey. Her eyes quickly wandered up from narrow hips to broad shoulders and up to a pair of hazel eyes. No, more like gold, she decided, shivering. She remembered a trip to a zoo as a little girl, when she walked through the big cats exhibit and stared into feral, powerful eyes. His eyes were similar to those of a cougar, taking on a speculative gleam as she continued to stare, mesmerized. Suddenly realizing her rudeness, she blushed furiously.
“And who is asking?” she asked, proud that her voice was level and cool despite the turmoil inside. The stranger was tall, almost regal in appearance. A conservative grey suit and white silk shirt encased a powerful frame. The crest on the jacket was of her father’s company. He grinned lopsidedly.
“Welcome back to Charlottesville. Congressman Shayne, uh, your father sent me.”
As his voice reverberated in her ear, she uncurled from her position on the bench and rubbed her tingling toes. My feet are asleep, she rationalized, distracted by the grin staring at her. Then his words registered past the confusion that seemed to muddle her brain.
Her father? How did he know? She had only decided yesterday to take the bus, to give her time to come to terms with returning to Virginia and her family estate. She straightened up and looked at the dark stranger. His piercing gold gaze seemed to almost read her mind.
“Your father had his secretary call your apartment, and she spoke to an Emily Marston. She said you were on your way. He was surprised you decided not to fly.”
Emily. It figures. Fresh from Owensboro, Kentucky, with dreams of Broadway and fame and entirely too trusting of a voice on a phone. Then again, Melissa hadn’t told Emily not to say anything. Melissa shrugged and waited for an answer to her question.
