One Night of Misbehavior (6 page)

The bedroom was a large one, with sun streaming through two large garden-facing windows. The furniture was heavy and old-fashioned, reminding him of his grandmother’s room, right down to the crocheted doilies on the dresser and the faint scent of lavender in the air.

“I brought you a plant and some magazines. I wasn’t sure which ones you’d prefer so I bought a mix of craft and ladies’ magazines.” He removed the plant from the carry bag and set it on a side table.

“Thank you. The cyclamen is beautiful. My favorite nail polish is that exact shade of reddish pink. And magazines are always acceptable. Charlotte and I have read our latest ones from cover to cover.” She glanced at the door then back at him. “Are you playing Charlotte?”

A startled laugh escaped him, but she didn’t look as if she were joking.

“Charlotte hasn’t said anything to me, but I know she was expecting a call.”

“I like Charlotte. A lot,” Ash said, past experience making him censor his words. “I rang every night this week. Whoever answered promised to pass on my messages. They didn’t.”

Ivy’s mouth firmed with disapproval. “You have proof?”

“Yes,” Ash snapped. Damn it, he wasn’t a liar.

“Why didn’t you ring her cell phone?”

“I did. The number is out of use.”

“Are you up to drinking a coffee, Gran?” Charlotte appeared in the doorway. She’d taken the time to brush her hair and confine it to a high ponytail.

“That’s strange. Is your cell phone not working?” Ivy asked.

Charlotte stilled, her gaze shooting to her bare feet. “Elizabeth said I didn’t need one. She canceled my account.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ivy asked.

Color stung her cheeks, but she lifted her head. Ash could tell his presence embarrassed her. Too bad. He wasn’t leaving until he was good and ready.

“Charlotte?” Ivy might be ill, but her tongue still lashed with the strength of a whip.

“It wasn’t important in the scheme of things,” Charlotte said, and Ash knew she was picking her words with care. “I don’t need a phone.”

“You do need a phone,” Ivy said. “Ash, pass me my handbag please.”

Ash handed her the bag, and she rifled through the contents, pulling out a purse. She handed several notes to Charlotte. “Buy yourself a prepay phone.”

“I don’t need—”

“Ash, will you take her to buy a phone?”

“I will.”

“I can’t leave you alone, Gran.”

“I’m not going to pop my clogs today,” Ivy snapped. “Next week or the week after, but not today. I have things I want to take care of first. Besides, Esther is coming to visit and we can’t have a good gossip if you’re hanging around.”

“You want to talk about me,” Charlotte said.

“Of course I do, child.” She cast a sly glance at Ash.

“Oh, no,” he said. “You can leave me out of your conversation.”

“Pooh, you’re no fun,” Ivy said. “Where’s my coffee?”

“You turned down the job,” Ash said, once they were sipping their coffee.

“She said she wanted to spend the hours with me,” Ivy said gruffly. “I tried to talk sense into her.”

“Gran, it doesn’t matter,” Charlotte said. The glare she raked over him held a trace of temper.

“It’s not right,” Ivy said. “Elizabeth had no—”

“Gran,” Charlotte interrupted.

Ivy subsided, but her expression spoke of frustration.

“I might have a solution,” Ash said into the yawning silence.

“Do tell,” Ivy said.

Charlotte bit her bottom lip, worrying it until her mouth turned redder. Ash imagined doing the same thing and need gnawed at him. He stirred uneasily, his body taut with a rush of desire.

“I’m still here,” Ivy said, humor lacing her tone. “Although I have to say watching you two circle each other is better than a movie.”

“Gran.” Delicate color washed into Charlotte’s face again, and she refused to glance in his direction.

“You’re a troublemaker,” he said to Ivy.

Ivy chortled until an alarm clock went off.

Charlotte stood. “Time for your medication.” She walked over to a dressing table and took pills from various bottles. She left with an empty glass and came back a minute later with it full of water. “Here you go.”

“Start talking, young man. I want to hear your idea.” Although Ivy’s words were fighting, she slumped back against her pillows.

“I’ve taken charge of a new account, and I want Charlotte to help me. She can work from home, and I’ll drop in each day to offer advice and help with any problems. What do you say?”

“A real campaign?”

“She’d do it,” Gran said immediately.

“Do you have a laptop?” he asked.

“Yes, Gran bought me one for Christmas. Will I need any special programs?”

“Mostly you need to brainstorm ideas and design a motif and slogan for the customer,” Ash said. “So you’re interested?”

“She is,” Ivy said. “She’ll take the job. How much do you pay?”

“No, I can’t accept a wage,” Charlotte said. “Because I can’t work set hours.”

Damn. He’d hope she’d accept a wage. Never mind, he’d get around that somehow.

“But I’ll take a reference,” she said. “If you think I deserve one.”

“Deal,” Ash said.

“Knock. Knock.” The loud voice floated up the stairs.

“Good. Esther is here. You can go and buy that phone now. Keep her out until at least three,” Ivy said.

“That’s a lot of gossip,” Ash said.

“But you might need me,” Charlotte protested. “Last time I went out you ended up in hospital.”

“Which wasn’t your fault. You need to get out in the fresh air,” Ivy said.

“But—”

“I need a break too,” Ivy said. “We’re not going to do anything silly. Esther will help me write letters to my friends, and we’ll talk about scrapbooking.”

When Charlotte looked about to protest again, Ash stood. He plucked a business card from his wallet and set it on the bedside drawer. “Here’s my card. Get Esther to ring me if you need Charlotte. Charlotte, if it’s okay with you, we’ll go back to my place after we’ve bought you a phone. My laptop is there and we can get started on the campaign. We’ll grab a sandwich or something.” He congratulated himself on the casual tone.
Good job keeping the wicked wolf part of him buried
.
While he would do some work, he also intended to kiss Charlotte stupid at the first opportunity. More, if he could get away with it. “Is that all right with you?”

“Okay.” She hugged Esther when she entered the bedroom and ran through the medication, setting the alarm for the next round of pills. “Ring me if you need anything.”

Ash waited patiently, stooping to kiss Ivy on her wrinkled cheek.

“You look after her,” Ivy whispered, her fingernails digging into his arm to punctuate her order. “Or I’ll tell your grandmother when I write to her today.”

“I promise.”
Aha! Proof of the great setup
.
He fought to restrain his grin.

“I’ll be back at three,” Charlotte told Esther.

Esther settled her ample frame on the chair beside Gran’s bed and whisked off her sunhat to reveal a helmet of black hair. She waved a bejeweled hand at Charlotte in dismissal. “You take your time, dear. We’ll be fine.”

“Give me five minutes to change,” Charlotte said.

“You’re fine as you are,” he said, his swift glance taking in her faded blue jeans and her tight-fitting T-shirt. “Grab your laptop, and we’ll head off.”

“Maybe I’ll get shoes,” she said.

Ash grinned. “Good idea.”

Ten minutes later, he pulled up outside a store specializing in phones, the purchase taking mere minutes since Charlotte knew what she wanted—a prepaid phone capable of doing the basics.

“No Facebook or Twitter?” he asked.

“I don’t have time,” she said. “Gran has a Facebook page to connect with her friends, and I helped her with that. Does your client have a website?”

“No, but they should get one. We can add that into our campaign ideas for them.”

Despite the desire pushing against his skin, he kept his hands to himself. Once they stepped inside his house all bets were off.

His house keys jingled as he pushed the right key into the lock. He ignored the betraying tell, merely pushing the door open and entering to turn off the security alarm.

“Come in,” he said, closing the door behind her. “We’ll work in the dining room.” He led the way, not willing to walk behind her in case his wavering control snapped.
Just a few steps farther
.

She placed her laptop on the gleaming top of the wooden table and gave his house—the parts she could see—a curious glance. “Nice,” she said, blinking when she turned to find him a hairbreadth away.

“God, I missed you.” Before she could respond, he grasped her shoulders pulling the weight of her body against him. His lips covered hers and he was lost, drowning in her taste and scent. He was vaguely aware of hands fluttering against him and settling into something resembling acceptance. Her soft breasts flattened against his chest, and she sighed. It was like coming home, and he knew he’d been right to persist, to give her more chances than he’d given any other woman in his life. She was his. She just didn’t know it yet.

“I thought we came here to work,” she said when they parted to take in oxygen.

“We did. We will, but I needed to kiss you.” He rubbed her back, his hand sliding up and down. The contact comforted him when it was meant to soothe her. “Of course, if I thought I could seduce you, entice you into my bed, that might be my next move.”

Charlotte fixed her gaze on her hands—the traitorous things. They wanted to crawl over Ash and test the texture of the skin on his muscular chest. This time she’d pay closer attention to his scars and kiss every one of them. Her hands opened and closed to tight knots of fingers. No, it wasn’t professional.

He must have sensed her inner debate because he smiled. “Let’s get to work.”

She blinked, thrown by his reasonable behavior. The couple of boyfriends she’d had at high school and the parade of men through her stepsisters’ lives—well, predictable was their middle name. “Why did you choose Zorro for your costume?” Her mouth snapped shut once the casual question popped out. This wasn’t a social engagement. When had they traded bodies? “You’re not some freaky alien, are you?”

“I’m not following your train of thought,” he said with a chuckle. “But I enjoy the woo-woo stuff. There’s a new sci-fi movie out next week. If we can get someone to stay with Ivy, would you like to go to a matinee with me? We can neck in the back row.” His blue eyes twinkled in a naughty-boy fashion, pulling an unwilling smile from her.

Somehow it seemed wrong to flirt and have fun when she knew Gran’s days were limited. “Maybe we should get to work. I don’t want to leave Gran for too long.”

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll grab my laptop, and we’ll transfer the info files.”

When he disappeared, she glanced around his house. While it was apparent a designer had taken charge of the furnishings, he or she knew Ash well. Warm colors in reds and oranges contrasted with the cream walls and good quality wood and leather furniture. A lacy green fern sat in a brass pot on a side table. The end result was comfortable rather than stiff and formal, and Charlotte could picture him here, sprawled out on the black leather couch watching the big-screen television.

Music poured through concealed speakers without warning, making her start. She relaxed a little when she recognized Bruno Mars singing about beautiful nights and dancing shoes. The words about marriage, she ignored. Not in her vocabulary. Gran had asked her what she intended to do afterward. Charlotte smiled, the action uncomfortable on her lips as she rehashed Gran’s stern lecture when she’d told Gran she couldn’t talk about her death. She’d promised Gran she’d embrace her freedom, strike out on her own and not let Elizabeth rule her life. Independence with a capital I.

“All ready?” Ash asked.

She nodded, indicating the screen of her laptop.

“Can I look at your programs?”

In answer, she slid the laptop to him, watching him as his fingers raced across the keys. The particular scar she studied was ugly, a pale splotch of skin that covered half his face from cheekbone to jaw, but she didn’t
see
it anymore. His personality shone through, lighting his features with laughter and intelligence. Despite the scars, the package was fit, muscular and sexy. Add in the money and his own business and it was no wonder women chased him.

“I used to love watching Zorro when I was a kid. My father got the movie for me when I had measles. He was my hero.” His eyes glowed with hidden laughter when he met her gaze. “The costume hid most of my scars and made me feel normal. He had a sword, a cool brand and he got the girl.”

Her mouth rounded into an O, but no sound emerged.

“Every time there was a dress up, I became Zorro. Why did you choose a princess costume?”

“I wasn’t meant to attend. Gran and Esther surprised me with the costume, gave me an invitation they’d wrested from someone and forced me to go.”

“I enjoyed the ball,” Ash said, his expression saying way more than mere words.

Her tummy did a loop-de-loop, his intent gaze making her want to shift her weight from foot to foot. They were alone, Ms. Feisty whispered seductively.
Jump him! He won’t resist. Give his dick a little attention, and he’ll follow you around like a lost puppy.
A croak emerged.

He tilted his head, one dark brow rising. “You said something?”

“What happens if I can’t do this?”

He muttered something under his breath, following it up with a glare. “Well, that’s a shitty attitude. Say that again, and I’ll paddle your ass.”

Woohoo! Progress. He wants to get kinky and spank you.
Ms. Feisty supplied the commentary before Charlotte could take her next breath. She plunged into recovery mode. “I meant what happens if I run out of time because of looking after Gran. I can do anything I want.” Or so Gran had told her yesterday. All she had to do was believe, but the job vacancy website hadn’t encouraged her. Qualifications were the exclusive, shiny invitations employees needed to enter the workforce.

“Every project we take on starts with a job sheet.” Ash went through the details with her, answering questions when she asked them, explaining everything with so much patience her wavering confidence bloomed into excitement.

Three hours passed in a blink, and soon it was time to get back to Gran. As they pulled out of Ash’s driveway, a man loped alongside the car, snapping a photo of them. Ash cursed under his breath.

“Does that happen a lot?” she asked.

“Often enough to piss me off,” Ash said, glancing in his rear-view mirror. “He’s not following. At least that’s something.”

“Thanks for setting up the phone for me.”

“I had an ulterior motive. I snagged your number for my address book and programmed my number on speed dial.” His tone was smug and very male.

“Aren’t you the clever one,” she teased, part of her amazed he could draw this response from her when her emotions weighed heavy like blocks of ice. She attempted a cheerful façade for Gran, or tried to. One ass-kicking a week from a sick woman was enough, and she’d learned her lesson. Gran didn’t intend to put up with any maudlin crap. Her exact words.

“Clever enough to ask you to dance at the ball.”

“Oh? I thought you felt sorry for the robot I was dancing with before you. He’s probably still got heel marks in the middle of his foot.” She giggled at the memory. “You should have seen his expression when I stood after accepting his invitation to dance. I was six inches taller than him.”

“That’s what grabbed my attention first,” Ash said, pulling into the driveway of her house. “The height difference. You have no idea how sore a man’s neck gets if his date is short and petite.”

“And I thought my breasts might have something to do with it. Every other man looked at them first.”

“I noticed those too, and I made myself a promise I’d touch if you were agreeable.”

“I…you…don’t say things like that.”

“Nothing but the truth, and the more I get to know you, the more I want to touch.” With the car sitting idle in the driveway, he reached over to tug on her ponytail.

“Can I share the campaign stuff with Gran? She’ll get a kick out of helping me to brainstorm.”

“No problem.” Ash curled his hand around her neck and tugged her close enough to kiss. His kiss was soft, lingering. The type of kiss that worked under a woman’s skin and made her imagine what might come next. When he pulled back, she scanned his face, trying to understand him. What made him tick? This thing—whatever it was between them—couldn’t last. Even Gran had mentioned the numerous photos in the gossip pages of the newspaper and the magazine stories about
The Beast
.

“I’d better go,” he said. “I’m going to be in meetings for the rest of the day and most of tomorrow. If you run into any problems, flip me an email. Remember we need to have something solid for the client in a fortnight.”

“How did it go?” Gran asked when Charlotte walked into her room.

“Good. I’ll tell you all about it once you’ve had your sleep. Hi, Esther. Did Gran misbehave?”

“Yes,” Esther said, planting her hands on her ample hips. “And I encouraged her. Life is too short to be good.”

“Exactly,” said Gran. “That’s what I keep telling Charlotte. Maybe it will sink into her thick head if we both reinforce the idea.”

“Cup of tea, Esther?”

“That would be nice, dear. In truth, I’m curious to hear about the campaign.” Her deep-set hazel eyes blazed with interest.

“But—”

“I’m not tired,” Gran said. “I’ll have plenty of rest once this stupid lupus gets me.”

Esther chuckled—a deep, throaty sound of amusement. Charlotte laughed because Gran expected her to, but the humor emerged from her throat kicking and screaming, while she silently railed at the injustice. She didn’t want Gran to die.

The three of them spent the rest of the afternoon brainstorming ideas for the campaign, Charlotte taking frantic notes and making quick sketches on her artist pad.

The next morning, Elizabeth entered the kitchen while Charlotte was making a tea tray and a light breakfast for Gran.

“Where’s the paper?” she asked.

“I haven’t had time to collect it from the mailbox,” Charlotte said, biting back the snappish remark at the tip of her tongue. “The coffee is almost ready.” She picked up the tray and left the kitchen.

“When was this photo taken?” Elizabeth demanded, stomping into Gran’s bedroom about five minutes later.

“What photo?” Charlotte asked, busy straightening Gran’s bed while Gran sat at a small table drinking a cup of tea.

“What photo?” Gran asked, holding out her hand for the paper. “Show me. Oh, that’s a nice photo of you and Ash. You didn’t tell me they took photos of you yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” Elizabeth’s tight voice made Charlotte take half a step back. A powder keg about to explode. “You left Mum by herself?”

“Of course she didn’t, Elizabeth. I forced Charlotte to go out for a few hours. She’s been cooped up inside this house for days. We both needed a rest from each other.”

“But what if something had happened?”

“Esther was here the entire time, and the district nurse visited to check on me. She was happy with my condition.”

“It won’t last,” Elizabeth snapped. “That man has more women than good sense.”

“There’s nothing between us,” Charlotte said. “We’re friends. That’s all.”

“The boy dropped around to see how I was,” Gran said. “I practically forced him to take Charlotte out for coffee.”

Elizabeth huffed, snatched up the paper and stalked out.

Gran stared after her daughter, a scowl on her face. “I taught that girl manners. I blame her father. He spoiled her rotten and gave her everything she wanted. She didn’t get her nasty attitude and streak of mean from me.”

“Everyone has their moments,” Charlotte said. “She’s worried about you.”

“I’ve had some more ideas about slogans for the campaign. Get your laptop so you can make a note of them.”

“As soon as everyone has left for work. Do you feel up to designing some trading cards? I thought we’d do some to show the client. Maybe with a cupcake or baking theme.”

Gran beamed, a bright, sunny smile that reminded Charlotte of her grandmother of several years ago. It lit up her entire face and brought a dignified beauty to her tired features. “Yes please, Charlotte. My headache is manageable today, and I feel almost normal.”

“Won’t be long, Gran.” Charlotte turned away before Gran witnessed the glint of tears in her eyes. She’d miss her so much. Gran was her best friend.

“The deal was you’d look after Mum,” Elizabeth said when Charlotte stepped into the kitchen.

“I was out for a few hours. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You look very cozy with Ash,” Jenny said.

“It was totally innocent. You must know how the tabloid press twists things and manipulate photos,” Charlotte said. “Digital manipulation is easy these days.”

“Call me stupid, but that is you with Ash outside his house,” Jenny said.

“Yes. He had to stop to pick up his laptop before he went to the office. We had coffee and that’s all. Nothing happened.” She ignored the kisses, the sensual tension that still invigorated her and made her dream of the impossible every time they were together. “Gran seems chipper today. She had a good night.”

“I won’t have photographers hanging around our house and upsetting Mum,” Elizabeth said.

A shudder went through Charlotte. “Of course not.” She couldn’t think of anything worse. “Gran and I are working on scrapbooking this morning.”

“Don’t tire her out,” Jenny said. “Whenever I look in to see her she’s asleep.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes before she could halt the move. “She’s wide awake now.”

“I don’t want to be late for work.”

Charlotte rose to get more coffee for herself, a booster to help her keep awake after her sleepless night. Even though she hadn’t needed to get up for Gran, listening for her kept Charlotte from a refreshing sleep. “Congratulations on your new job.”

Jenny shot her a look layered with guilt. “It’s an excellent opportunity.”

“Yes, it is. You’d better go or you’ll be late.”

Jenny’s mouth tightened, and she shot her an ugly glower. Charlotte wanted to tell Jenny the animosity was a waste of energy. Instead, she shrugged and focused on caffeine-loading. Gran needed her and that was that.