Southern Seduction by Brenda Jernigan Page B

his hand toward Brooke. “I believe the lady would like to speak with you.”
    Prosper glanced at her and executed a curt, but shallow bow. “Mademoiselle.”
    “I just wanted to tell you that was possibly the best meal I have ever had the pleasure to eat,” she said, placing her right hand on her heart. “And from this day fourth, you have my undying devotion, Prosper. You must be the greatest chef alive.”
    “Thank you,” he said with a confident smile and a slight nod. “I believe there may be one, possibly two better than I.”
    Brooke laughed. “They would have to prove it to me.”
    Prosper actually chuckled this time. He turned to Travis. “Anything else, sir?”
    “That will be all,” Travis said with a shake of his head. After the cook had gone, he added, “I do believe you’ve won him over.”
    Brooke stood. Then she moved around the table to where Travis was sitting. “But not the master of the house?”
    He drew back and peered at her. “Do you want to win me over?”
    Brooke thought for a long moment. “I would like for us to be--“ she paused, “--friends.” She reached out to touch his arm. The instant she did, a cracking shock ran up her arm, and she snatched her hand back. She noted Travis’s puzzled look and knew he’d felt the same thing. In the same instant, she felt herself losing ground. She could sense he was drawing away from her, putting up that shield that he used so well. And his next words confirmed exactly that.
    “I’m afraid it’s too soon, Brooke,” he said with what she could hope was a note of regret. “You’ll have to give it time.”
    Brooke didn’t respond. Was he regretting that it would take time, or that he was beginning to want to know her? Or worse still, wishing she were completely out of his life? With something new to consider, Brooke turned and left the room, all the time thinking but I don’t have the time. Don’t you understand?
     
     
    Later that night, a thunderstorm rolled in off the Gulf, bringing with it blustery winds, torrential rain and brilliant flashes of light. A bolt of lightning struck somewhere close by.
    The crash was so loud it brought Brooke straight up in bed. She clutched the covers in front of her as if they would protect her from her childhood fears. Her heart pounded in her chest. Wildly, her gaze darted around the darkened room as she tried to calm her breathing.
    “Don’t be foolish,” she whispered to herself. “It’s only a storm.”
    It took several moments before she was able to make herself stop gasping for air. She always told herself the same thing. It never did any good.
    How foolish to be afraid of storms when they were nothing more than wind and rain. But every time a storm came upon her, she was transported back to her childhood and many unpleasant memories.
    Brooke’s mother had brought her to the boarding school during a thunderstorm, leaving her there without as much as a hug. After that Brooke was pretty much on her own. She could remember huddling in bed many nights with her special blanket wrapped around her, praying the storms would go away. From that time on, storms always seemed to bring trouble in her life.
    Of course, the other girls were not afraid and they’d teased her about being so silly. Everyone but Jocelyn, who’d taken up for Brooke. But as much as she tried to convince herself that there was nothing to fear, Brooke had never gotten over them.
    Even now, she wondered what terrible thing would happen to her next, though she knew that it was silly to think such nonsense. The only thing that came to mind was the fiancée could return early. Of course, she’d already had that scare once tonight. Brooke looked upward. “Oh, please don’t let that happen. Give me a chance.”
    She tossed back the covers and went to the hearth. With trembling fingers, she took one of the wood splinters and placed one end to the hot coals. As soon as it caught fire, she took another splinter and lit the