One Night of Misbehavior (8 page)

The rest of the afternoon raced away. Charlotte made more tea and coffee and ferried plates of sandwiches and cakes back and forth. Who knew funerals stimulated the appetite so much? Maybe it was something to do with affirming life, Charlotte thought.

She smiled at one of Gran’s brothers, offering him a refill of his tea cup and received a polite nod. She sighed, feeling more than ever like a sparrow amongst a nest of cuckoos.

Gradually, the guests started to leave, and Charlotte busied herself with the constant stream of dirty dishes.

Elizabeth walked into the kitchen, her eyes bloodshot, her cheeks pale beneath the rounds of blusher she’d applied earlier in the day. “Charlotte, a light dinner tonight please,” she said in a crisp voice. “There will be six of us since my sister and her husband and my brother are staying the night.”

Six? What about her? Charlotte bit down on her inner lip. Not the time for a smart-ass comment, but obviously, she’d been relegated to hired help status. She was meant to make dinner from the goodness of her heart.

Charlotte made pasta served with pesto, a large salad and baked a focaccia bread to have on the side. She also whipped up an apple crumble in case any of them wanted dessert. Deciding to eat later, she cleaned up in the kitchen while the others ate in the formal dining room.

“Mum said you can clear the table and bring in the dessert now. We’ll have coffee later,” Rachel said. She disappeared before Charlotte could answer.

Charlotte gripped the edge of the counter until the color bled from her knuckles.
Deep breaths
. “I’m not a servant, damn it,” she muttered while getting dessert bowls from the cupboard—the good china as Elizabeth had requested. Taking another fortifying breath, she set them on a tray along with the apple crumble and a jug of fresh cream. After counting silently to ten, she carried the tray into the dining room. Tonight was not the time to assert her rights and independence, not the day of Gran’s funeral.

Silently Charlotte cleared dinner plates, distributed bowls and placed the crumble near Elizabeth to serve. Wordlessly, she carried the empty dinner plates along with the salad bowl, which contained a lone slice of cucumber.

Resentment built in her, layer by layer, empty dish by empty dish, but pride and decency wouldn’t let her unleash her ire—not today.

The cleanup took another hour. Charlotte made herself a sandwich and escaped to her bedroom. She fell asleep listening to an audio book about a world populated with vampires where nothing was as it seemed and humans unknowingly walked amongst danger.

“Charlotte.” Elizabeth stalked into the kitchen the next morning, five minutes short of nine. “Jenny, Rachel and I are driving to Taupo with my brother. We’re going to sort out Mum’s house ready for sale. I want you to clear Mum’s room here.”

“Don’t you want to keep anything?” Charlotte asked, surprised by the request.
Don’t you mean order
,
Ms. Feisty snapped in her ear.

“No, send everything useful to charity and trash the rest. Don’t bother making breakfast. We’re going to stop at Tirau.”

Five minutes later, they were gone.

Ash scowled at the photo in the paper. A photographer had managed to get a shot of him and Charlotte at the grave site, their hands clasped with Charlotte gazing up at him. A reporter had contacted him, asking about the funeral, and he’d told her it was for a family friend. He’d thought they’d show a little respect, but no. The headline shouted,
The Beast and the Mystery Redhead
.

Laura walked into his office and glanced at the newspaper. Her nose wrinkled. “They don’t respect privacy. Rather you than me, boss.”

“They’ve manipulated a shot from the funeral and blanked out the people who were standing around us.” Disgust filled him, and he hoped Charlotte didn’t see the photo.

“Matheson rang again this morning. He said you’d put him off about his weekend party. He wants to know if you’re attending and if you have a plus one.”

“Damn, I don’t want to leave Auckland right now. Okay, leave it with me. I’ll ring him this afternoon. Do we have any new jobs?”

Laura rattled off several. “Okay, put me down for the Hudson and the Shrewsbury accounts and email the relevant details to me. I’m going out for an hour.”

“Righto, Ash.”

Ash sneaked out the back door, walked three blocks and caught a passing cab to Remuera. He rapped on the door, and a few minutes later, Charlotte stood in front of him.

“Ash.”

Charlotte stood aside to let him enter. She’d been crying, her eyes red and swollen. Tear tracks streaked her cheeks, but to him she was beautiful.

“Where is everyone?”

“They’ve gone to Taupo for a couple of weeks.” Charlotte’s voice was dead without nuance.

“They left you alone?” Anger burst through him. Damn Elizabeth and her callous behavior. All she needed was a pointy black hat and a broom and she’d be set.

“With instructions to clear Gran’s room and sort out her possessions,” Charlotte said.

This time her expression read pissed and he cheered inwardly. “I have to travel to Napier on business this weekend. Would you come with me?”

“For the weekend?”

“We’d share a room,” Ash said, wanting her to have no doubt as to his intentions. “And a bed.”

Her gaze zapped to meet his, searching, weighing. “I’ve never been to Napier.”

Not the reply he’d expected. “Well, here’s your chance. What do you say?”

“What sort of clothes will I need?”

“Mainly casual, but they’re having an art deco theme party on Saturday night. I was intending to grab something to wear while I’m down there. We could go earlier and do our shopping together. What do you say?”

She nodded, not with the enthusiasm he’d prefer, but at least it wasn’t a straight rejection. “I need to finish emptying Gran’s room, but I’d like to escape the memories for a few days.”

“How does Thursday sound?”

“Yes, Thursday is perfect.”

Ash worked to hold back his cheer. “Pack a swimsuit and comfortable shoes for walking. Oh, and bring your laptop. I have two more accounts for you to work on. We can discuss those too.”

She bounced her weight from foot to foot, and her brown eyes sparkled. “Really?”

“Really,” he said. “We were impressed by your work on the bakery account, and Laura has contacted the client to make an appointment to see your designs.”

“Thank you.” Charlotte threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tight.

Ash hugged her back, wishing her affection was more than excitement about the accounts. Still, she hadn’t argued about sharing a bed, and he had a long weekend to work his masculine magic. A heady sensation, one he recognized as the thrill of the chase, blossomed inside him. An unusual feeling, since women stalked him, but one that filled him with anticipation. Charlotte wouldn’t know what hit her.

* * * * *

Ash wanted her to work on more accounts. The knowledge buoyed her spirits and put pep in her steps—a temporary job to fill her empty hours plus a weekend away. Probably a good thing since she didn’t have to be a brain box to realize getting away from this house with the layers of memories and sadness wouldn’t hurt. She attacked Gran’s room with new vigor, sorting possessions into three piles—those to donate to charity, a pile for the rubbish and a pile of things she wanted for keepsakes. She focused on the good memories, the times of laughter and fun she’d had with Gran and Esther.

But a few times Ms. Feisty shooed her thoughts over to Ash and sharing a bed with him. A tickle of heat slid along her veins. A little hot, no-strings sex with Ash would celebrate the start of her new life.

Hell, yeah!
Ms. Feisty pumped her fist in the air. Charlotte grinned, inhaled a couple of deep breaths and continued her task.

When she came to Gran’s jewelry box, she paused before deciding to leave it in Elizabeth’s room. Gran had owned some lovely pieces, and she was sure Elizabeth would want to keep them. She tucked the box under a pile of sweaters in one of Elizabeth’s drawers.

It took her the rest of the day to clear the bedroom, working late into the night. The distant shrill of her cell phone broke the silence, making her start.

Charlotte went down to the kitchen to answer it, deciding to stop for something to eat since her stomach let out an ominous rumble.

“Hello,” she said.

“What are you wearing?” a husky voice asked.

“Ash?”

“Do you have other men calling to ask what you’re wearing?”

She pursed her lips to stem the urge to giggle. “Not on a regular basis. What are you wearing?”

“I’ve just returned from a run,” he said, and she held her breath, hoping he’d keep talking. The man had a raspy voice, and every word caressed her skin, her senses. He’d sound sexy reading a dry legal document.

“And,” she prompted.

“I got hot and sweaty.”

Charlotte ran the words through her mind, pictured him with a sheen on his skin, his dark hair tousled. “Hot enough to take off your shirt?”

A huff containing an edge of laughter strummed her ear. “All I’m wearing is a pair of boxer-briefs. I’m about to jump into the shower.”

“Take them off,” she said.

“You’ve hijacked my game. I’m the one with the bad-boy reputation.”

“You’re wearing fewer clothes,” she countered. “We’ll get to the good stuff sooner.”

“Tease,” he said in a low purr.

Excitement prickled through her, and she shifted her weight, the pull of her cotton shirt across her bare breasts setting her nipples tingling. She fanned her face, her free hand gripping her cell while she waited for him to say something else. The rustle of clothing traveled down the line.

“I’m naked,” he announced. “And my cock is hard enough to hammer a nail. What are you going to do about it?”

Her stomach did a dip and twirl. Heat punched at the juncture of her thighs. “If I were there, I’d sink to my knees and learn the shape of your penis with my hands and fingers. I’d stroke the crown and tease you until drops of pre-come started to form at your slit.”

“Go on.” His raspy voice filled her with yearning.

“Then I’d use my mouth on you, cleaning away the moisture with my tongue.”

“I’m very sweaty,” he whispered. “We should probably do this in the shower with both of us naked. I’d want to run my fingers through your hair and hold your head while I make shallow thrusts into your hot mouth.”

She gulped. “Um, we could do that.”

“And I’d watch the water as it poured over your breasts. Maybe, I’d pinch your nipples because I know you don’t mind a shot of pain with your loving.”

Charlotte closed her eyes, letting his deliberate words flow through her, over her in a gradual wash of arousal.

“By then my patience would’ve hit breaking point. I’d probably haul you to your feet and press you against the wall of the shower. When I do, the tiles are cold against your back, a contrast to my mouth at your breasts, the heat of the water and my hands skimming your body.”

Charlotte squeezed her legs together and felt her clit jump once. The friction wasn’t enough. She wanted…needed him, his hands, his mouth.

“Are you still there, Charlotte?”

“Yes.” Ms. Feisty did a lusty rock of her hips then pumped a fist. “I wish you were here.”

He laughed. “Tomorrow night,” he promised. “I’m going to make love to you all night long.”

“That’s hours away.” Charlotte realized she was pouting and gave herself a shake.

“And meantime, you’re going to go to bed and think of me. You’re going to touch yourself until you come, and tomorrow, you’re going to tell me all about it.”

“I…” What was the wretched man doing to her?

“Do you have a vibrator?”

“No.”

“Maybe we’ll go shopping for one of those too,” he said in a silky voice. “I’m going to jump in the shower now. I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow. We’ll get an early start and do some sightseeing when we hit Napier.”

The phone clicked in her ear, but she didn’t move, her mind full of Ash. Just a little fun sex between consenting adults, she reminded herself. They came from different worlds, were at different places in their lives. No, she’d enjoy the moment, and when the time came, she’d move on with her life and embrace her independence.

Edginess and arousal nipped at her heels while she went through the motions of eating and drinking. On reaching her bedroom, she gave in to her body’s insistent demand, throwing off her clothes and slipping between the sheets, naked. A few strokes of her fingers and she exploded into climax. Gradually, she floated down from the cloud of pleasure and stretched.
That will work even better when we’re with Ash
,
Ms. Feisty purred.

Ash arrived in a cab, promptly at ten. He jumped out, taking her bag from her and stowing it in the rear.

A blue sedan with a dent in the passenger door pulled up to the curb with a shriek of brakes.

“Excellent,” Ash muttered, settling in the rear seat beside her. “The reporters are getting smarter. Hide your face so they don’t get another photo. That’s if you want to do that,” he added. “It’s up to you.”

“I prefer to keep under the radar,” she said quickly and buried her face against his chest. His arms wrapped around her until his scent and strength surrounded her. She sighed, a soft sound of appreciation. Gran had liked him, encouraged her to go out with him, so she figured she should enjoy every moment of this weekend. Besides, if she holed up at the house and made herself miserable, she wouldn’t put it past Gran to come back and haunt her.

“Damn, they’re following. Vultures.”

Charlotte peeked through the rear window for an instant and scowled at the vehicle trailing their cab. “Are we driving?”

“No, we’re flying and hiring a car when we get there. I hope you don’t mind flying.”

“My parents took me to the Gold Coast theme parks in Australia when I was six. I had a ball. Mind you, it helped that the air hostesses made a huge fuss over me, and I got to visit the flight deck.”

“Good. I didn’t think to ask if you were okay with flying. It also has the added benefit of getting rid of my entourage of photographers.”

The flight took less than an hour, and they were soon zipping toward the center of Napier.

“Where are we staying?”

“We have two nights at a hotel on the other side of Napier, then we’ll shift camp and move in with my client for Saturday and Sunday nights. They’re a bit out of Napier, near a town called Clare. We’ll fly back to Auckland on Monday morning.”

“Sounds good.” Heck, it sounded awesome. Excitement ricocheted inside her like a misdirected ping-pong ball.

“I thought we’d take care of our costumes for the party first, and after that we can have lunch at a vineyard and take a walk on the beach. We’ll have dinner at the hotel and then I intend to keep you busy in the bedroom. Any questions?”

“Can I take my camera with me? What sort of costume do you think I should look for? And will you explain the wine to me because I find the entire topic baffling. Jenny and Rachel are always poking fun at me because I can’t tell the difference between a Chardonnay and a Sauvignon Blanc.”

Ash sent her a lazy grin before directing his attention back to the road. “Definitely bring your camera. I’m not sure about the costume but something sexy, and the only good wine is the one you enjoy.”

He never made her feel stupid, and she appreciated this trait in him. Well-pleased, she turned her attention to the passing scenery. “I love the straight lines of the art deco buildings. I’m itching to take photos,” she said as Ash drove past a fountain on the waterfront. Closer to the main street, the number of art deco buildings increased, and she wound down the window and went crazy with the shutter button.

He laughed at her enthusiasm, the sound joyful and teasing. The lack of jeers and putdowns—the type of comments she’d come to expect from Elizabeth and her stepsisters—made her enjoyment in the day and his company increase.

“We’ll try the art deco shop first. If they don’t have what we want, I’m sure they’ll point us in the right direction.”

The elderly ladies manning the store were helpful without being pushy.

“That one,” Ash said, pointing to a straight apricot dress in a slip style. An apricot rose sat on the low waistband at hip level. It was a similar shade to the one she’d worn the night of the charity ball and the only decoration on the dress.

Charlotte cocked her head as if considering Ash’s choice. “You don’t think it will clash with my hair?”

“Oh, no, dear,” one of the ladies said. “Add a long string of pearls and wear your hair in a chignon. Paint your lips in a pale lipstick, highlight your eyes and you’ll look as if you belong in the thirties. And for you, sir, I think this white dinner jacket and these trousers. A white shirt and a black bow tie. Smooth your hair back with some styling cream, and you’ll make all the ladies’ hearts flutter.”

Ash reached for Charlotte’s hand and pressed a kiss to her inner wrist. “This is the only lady I want to impress.”

“You’re a lucky girl,” one woman said.

“I keep telling her that. Sweetheart, do we have everything we need for the party?”

“I think so.” Her stomach gurgled, and Charlotte clapped her hand over her belly, color flooding her cheeks. “Pardon me.”