Southern Charm by Stuart Jaffe Read Free Book Online Page B

dangerous man, part of a dangerous family that shrouds itself in secrecy."
    "My family likes secrets, too," she said with a wink.
    "This is serious. These people can cause a lot of pain."
    Melinda chuckled — a soft, bitter sound that she managed to infuse with a salacious undertone. "You're sweet to be so concerned, but you've only lived here for what? A little over a year? My family has been in North Carolina for generations. I think we understand things down here a bit better."
    "But —"
    "Do you know why I have this house? I mean, do you understand that every inch of this place was paid for by art forgeries? And yet, I still own it."
    "I've been told the best art forgers never get caught. I couldn't find a single word about Howard Corkille."
    "That's part of it. An important part. The other is attached to being the best. In order to succeed, you must be able to pass off your work for profit."
    "And Howard was good at that as well?"
    "A genius. But, you see, the two go together — getting collectors and museums to buy your forgeries and keeping all knowledge of you and your involvement a secret. Even now, all these years later, should it come out that many of the prized works hanging in museums throughout the world were Corkille fakes, I'd lose every dime I ever had. I hope this makes it clear why I don't wish to have an in-depth study done on my family's history."
    "This painting," Max said, not knowing what to say but wanting to keep her talking, "the 'Morning in Red,' why are you messing with Hull over it?"
    "I'm not."
    "You practically jumped when I mentioned his name and now you suddenly don't care about him?"
    "I didn't say that. I'm just not involved with Hull over that painting." Despite the young girl clothes and poses, her weary voice and judicious gaze aged her before Max's eyes. "We have other issues at work."
    "Well, if I'm not being rude, I'd advise you to have no dealings with Hull at any time, of any kind. That family is destructive, at best, and powerfully so. Whatever you think you're doing with them will hurt you in the long run. I learned this the hard way. Please, trust me on this. You'd best stay away from them."
    "How cute. You truly want to be chivalrous."
    Max knew he should leave. Though Melinda passed with ease between being a naïve doe and a prowling hunter, Max saw danger in either state. She played both with perfect pitch. The subtle and direct looks she threw at him from behind her hair, casually placed in its most seductive position, flooded him with testosterone and made thinking clearly an impossible task. The only thought he could manage — leave, leave, leave.
    As if the idea had formed that instant, Melinda sauntered toward Max and bent down with the obvious intent of letting him view her breasts. "We have a few choices," she said, moving closer, her lips near his. Hints of perfume mixing with body heat pressed in the air. "We can continue to tell each other partial truths and partial lies, we can go about our separate interests and know that we'll cross paths sometime soon, or we can stop all the games, go upstairs, and you can do whatever you desire." With the tip of her tongue, she touched his lips. Then she pulled back and turned away. "I know which I choose," she said and removed her shirt in one swift motion. Her smooth back lacked a single blemish. Over her bare shoulder, she added, "I'll wait upstairs."
    When she left the room, making sure to drop the shirt on the floor, Max did not move. His brain had shut down and struggled to reboot. His heart pounded in a fear only matched by the longing in his groin. He felt guilty for being hard and stupid for even imagining following this crazy girl. Drummond would tell him to sleep with her but never forget that she's only trying to distract him from the case. Maybe.
    Or maybe, despite all his big talk, Drummond would race to the car — he cares about Sandra a little bit. Max, however, cared about Sandra infinitely. No amount of