Tell Me Something Good by Lynn Emery

priorities.” Mrs. St. Denis took a deep breath. She seemed to
have recovered from the effort to keep up with Lyrissa.
    “Yes, ma’am. Trem6 Corporation,” Lyrissa
said.
    She nodded slowly. “Noel has done a wonderful
job. Reminds me of his grandfather in that way.”
    The older woman seemed lost in her thoughts
for a time. Lyrissa studied the oil portrait of Phillip St. Denis
more closely. Noel had the same determined set to his chiseled
features, the same finely etched jaw line as his grandfather.
    She remembered her grandmother’s description
of Phillip St. Denis as an enlightened despot who ruled his family
and company with an iron hand. Mama Grace had sneered that he was
cut from the same mold as his ancestors, and just as callous.
Lyrissa wondered if Noel shared that quality as well. Certainly he
exuded an aura of power. His tall, well-developed frame implied
physical power as well. The image of his well-muscled thighs and
arms flashed in her head. Noel had a hard body that could make a
woman sweat bullets. Still, he was a St. Denis. He came from a long
line of Creoles who’d looked down on the likes of her. Back to
business, she mentally ordered herself, glad the handsome
distraction was out of the house. With any luck she would not see
much of him.
    “I understand that the artwork will be
considered a corporate asset,” Lyrissa ventured.
    Mrs. St. Denis’s bemused expression cleared.
“My grandson’s idea. We’ll see.”
    “Still, it’s important to document such
valuable items. For inheritance purposes, if nothing else,” Lyrissa
said in a discreet reference to Miss Georgina’s mortality.
    The older woman waved a hand. “That’s not an
issue.” “I see,” Lyrissa answered, although she didn’t.
    “I’ll let you get to work.” Miss Georgina
stood slowly.
    “Call Rosalie if you need anything. I’ll be
in my office.” “Thank you.” Lyrissa watched her walk away. “Alone
at last,” she whispered.
    The next hour passed quickly as she went back
through the house and looked at each item. She went into the attic,
a large room that was neat despite being packed with items. There
were pieces of glazed pottery and small ceramic figurines, and
several small paintings stacked against one wall. With the
excitement of a child on a treasure hunt, she delighted in each new
find of a significant piece of art. The discoveries heightened her
anticipation of finding the one masterpiece she most wanted to see.
Lyrissa’s heart pounded each time she spied a frame. With so much
to look through, she was sure “The Stroll” was within her grasp.
She imagined removing it from its frame, rolling it up into a tube,
and simply walking through the door with it. The St. Denis family
wouldn’t even miss it. After all, they weren’t even sure of what
they owned.
    Lyrissa stood staring at a large framed map
of Louisiana when it was still a Spanish colony. She traced a
finger along the crescent outline of the old city of New Orleans.
The Joubert and St. Denis families were from the same world, yet
worlds apart. The distance was a good reason why she shouldn’t
entertain lustful fantasies about Noel St. Denis. “I see you’ve
found our own version of a flea market.” She spun around to find
that her fantasy had materialized. Speak of the devil. Lyrissa
cleared her throat. Her mind should be on her goal, not him. Noel
smiled and her pulse rate revved like a racecar engine. He dipped
his head as he stepped across the threshold into the attic. Lyrissa
looked up at him, trying to recall every nasty story about his
family that she’d heard. If only that silk suit didn’t drape across
his muscular body so well. Noel looked less like a workaholic
businessman than like a sexy black gladiator fresh from conquering
foreign lands. He walked toward her radiating animal power and
beauty in each step. In a flash like a camera bulb going off, she
imagined being scooped into his arms and her mouth crushed against
his. Lyrissa