by Donna Alward
“Of course not. I’m in PR. I hardly ever say what’s really on my mind.” And then she grinned at him.
“I guess it’s just with me, then.”
She thought about that and wondered if he wasn’t on to something. She was known for being blunt but that wasn’t the same as being honest. “Maybe,” she admitted. “I’ve been saying what my family has wanted to hear about a lot of things, I think. Or if not, just kind of...following along.”
“You made a statement this week, that’s for sure. But truly, Charlotte. It might be best if I go.”
She met his gaze. “Are you worried about me getting ideas? That if you stay the two days, that if we spend those days together, I’ll somehow magically think we are meant to be together forever and fall head over heels in love with you?”
To her surprise, he blushed.
“I won’t,” she said firmly. “Like we said earlier. We have different lives. And what you shared with me last night... I’m honored that you did that. But it also shows me that you’re not in a place where a relationship is on the table. My eyes are open, Jacob. That being said...” She put her cup down on a small table and leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “It’s been a long time since I’ve liked someone, trusted someone. Heck, it’s been a very long time since I had sex. Forgive me for wanting another forty-eight hours before having to give that up.”
He relaxed his shoulders and let out a breath. “I don’t want to go, either. Even if I should. But you have to know that this is all I have to give, Charlie.”
“I know. I won’t ask for more. I promise.”
“Two days.”
“Not even. I do still have some obligations. But definitely two more nights. And then Saturday we’ll fly out together. And we’ll say goodbye, with a smile.”
She wasn’t quite sure if she could pull off a genuine smile at saying goodbye. In just a week he’d made such an impression on her heart. But she’d fake it if she had to, and keep the memory close as “that one time I had a fling with my bodyguard.” It was best for everyone.
CHAPTER TEN
SATURDAY AFTERNOON THEY boarded a flight from New York to Paris. Ensconced in ultracomfortable first-class seats, Jacob indulged in a whiskey while Charlotte got a glass of white wine from the flight attendant. They toasted each other by clinking glasses, then Jacob took a sip of his drink. Sipping was important. Otherwise he’d find himself ordering another, and another. He wasn’t looking forward to saying goodbye to Charlotte at the airport in Paris, where he’d catch a quick connection to London.
She’d kept her bargain to the letter. No request for promises or declarations of affection. It had been two days of enjoying each other. Sex, certainly, that blew his mind and made him incapable of moving his limbs for a good thirty minutes. But more than that. He still accompanied her to her work functions, and watched as she worked a crowded room, or spoke to a single person and made them feel as if they had her complete attention. He listened to her on a call with her family, going through business details about the fashion industry that blew his mind. She was so freaking smart.
And then there’d been the talks. Talks about their childhoods, which were so very different. And not just because of money, but because he’d been an only child while she’d had siblings. He’d told her about losing his mother to cancer when he wasn’t even a teenager, and she told him about her father’s death almost two years ago, and how decimated the family had been to lose Cedric.
Somewhere in those two days, he’d fallen for her. Hard.
Exhaustion swept over him, and he closed his eyes. Maybe he should fight to stay awake, spend every last second he could with her, but something had switched in his brain the moment they’d stepped on the plane. A signal that what had been their magical time was over now. The flight was just a kind of limbo between one world and the next.
Back to Wolfe Security. Back to London, and his flat. And, if he had anything to do with it, finally rebooking his vacation. Though now the thought of having that sort of time on his hands didn’t hold the same allure. It would just give him time to think about Charlotte. Work was a much better idea. Lots and lots of work.
Charlotte woke him later, when dinner service began. He wondered if she was annoyed he’d slept, but she remained as easy and friendly as she had that morning when they’d left the apartment for the last time. “It was good,” she’d said, jostling his arm a bit, sighing with satisfaction. “Thank you, Jacob. I’ll treasure this time always.”
No demands. No tears. Exactly what they’d agreed. He’d hated it.
The chicken tasted like cardboard and even the addition of another whiskey didn’t help. He asked for a soft drink afterward, and when he looked over at Charlotte, he saw she’d pulled out her laptop and slid on those ridiculous, sexy little glasses and was working.
For some reason, the sight angered him. His insides were churning from the thought of walking away from her; how could she be so damned calm? Then he noticed that while she was staring at her screen, her fingers weren’t moving. She wasn’t scrolling, either, to read on farther. She was just...staring.
He was going to miss her. And maybe, just maybe, she was going to miss him, too. It was a bittersweet thought.
But what could he do about it? Nothing. Nor should he. Instead he decided to watch a movie or something to keep his mind occupied. Otherwise he was going to say something he shouldn’t, or touch her or something, and that wouldn’t help.
After an hour of staring at his screen and not registering a damned thing, the final approach announcement was made and the crew and passengers started to prepare for landing.
Charlotte closed her laptop and moved to put it in her bag. The scent of her perfume reached him, reminding him of the nights she’d spent wrapped around him, and he didn’t want to let her go.
He imagined saying such a thing to her and mentally kicked himself. A woman like Charlotte wouldn’t want a man like him, not as a...a partner. She was on her way to even more riches and celebrity and he was a behind-the-scenes guy, still eating beans on toast sometimes. Sure, his business was super successful and in demand. But the way he lived—the way he wanted to live—was so different from her lifestyle.
A quick check out the window showed him they were close to touchdown, and he looked at Charlotte. She was watching him, and a smile touched her lips. “Ready?” she asked.
“First thing I’m going to do is head for a pint at my local,” he answered, keeping his voice deliberately light. “Nothing feels more like home. You?”
She shrugged. “To my flat, I guess. I’ll see the family tomorrow and be back in the office on Monday. No rest for the wicked.”
Her last words sent a jolt of electricity through him. He’d been on the receiving end of her wickedness and it had been heavenly. But he didn’t show it. Didn’t dare. Goodbye was going to be hard enough. There were so many things to say, but he couldn’t, so the result was saying nothing at all of any consequence and feeling awful about it.
The plane touched down and then taxied to the gate. Because they were first class, it was barely a wait at all before they were cleared to leave. Jacob reached into the bin and took out his small case and garment bag—all he’d taken with him for the week. Then he stood back as Charlotte retrieved her smaller bag and smiled at him.
It wobbled just a little.
He had to be the strong one. Nothing good would come of tears or, worse, false promises. They had to leave each other smiling. A clean break and no regrets. He couldn’t live with anything else.
Then they were walking toward the gate, the hollow sound of passengers rolling their cases and heavy footsteps filling his ears. Charlotte had to get her bags and go through customs, and Jacob would head in an opposite direction, to go through security to catch his connection. They paused, and Jacob looked down into her sweet, beautiful face. “I guess this is i
t.”
She nodded. “No tears or sappy goodbyes.” She smiled and he noticed it didn’t wobble this time. “Just thank you. For doing your job, and then for being...” She paused, and his heart constricted. “For being my friend. I’ll never forget this week. Not ever.”
“Nor will I.” His voice came out steady and strong. It had to, no matter what was going on in his head and in his heart. Not since Jacinta had he cared for someone like this. Had he let someone in. Did she realize that? “Take care of yourself, Charlie.”
“I will. And you do the same.”
And yet neither of them moved. His gaze clung to hers, his hands itched to touch her again. He almost wanted her to ask him to stay. To have one more night with her in Paris before going home to London. But she remained silent, her eyes wide and lips frozen in a smile.
He was leaving. But not without one last kiss.
His bag was over his left shoulder and the garment bag looped over his arm, but he took his right hand and placed it on her cheek, the skin soft beneath his rough palm. He bent his head and touched his lips to hers, gently, as tenderly as a rough soldier like him could manage, needing to taste her and yet ever aware that they were standing in the middle of an airport with crowds milling about them. All too soon he pulled back, but when he did, her eyes were shiny with tears.
“I couldn’t go without doing that,” he said. What a fool he’d been to agree to her two days of bliss. Now he was addicted. Needed more of her. All of her. And he couldn’t have her.
“I’m glad. But you have to go now, Jacob. Saying goodbye isn’t one of my talents.”
A smile touched his lips. “Mine, either.” He adjusted the strap of his bag. “Goodbye, Charlie.”
“Goodbye, Jacob.”
He turned and walked in the direction of his gate, his heart pounding. Goodbye wasn’t enough. But saying “I love you” was too much.
“Home,” he murmured, and quickened his stride, refusing to look back.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Six weeks later
CHARLOTTE STEPPED INSIDE the boardroom and wondered where the hell the coffee was. She was tired all the time. She credited it to putting in long hours since her return from New York, as well as trying to recoup a sleep deficit. Once at home, she’d found it impossible to fall asleep. Her bed seemed too big without Jacob in it. She lay awake night after night, reliving their short time together until exhaustion finally overtook her. For the past few weeks, the insomnia had finally eased. But the fatigue didn’t. It was annoying. She didn’t have time for this.
No one else had arrived for the meeting yet, so she took advantage of the quiet to take a few deep breaths. It was then she saw the new American Vogue issue on a table.
She picked it up and flipped through, looking for Fashion Week coverage. She found it, feeling a persistent sense of anger at the runway shots. Her interview wasn’t due to be out until the next issue, and she’d done a follow-up by phone after the sabotage incident. So it was a surprise when she saw a few photos from the Aurora party included in the coverage. Including one with her smiling and dancing with Jacob, who was smiling one of his rare smiles back down at her.
Mon Dieu, she missed him. More than she wanted to admit.
“That was a spectacular dress choice,” her mother said at her shoulder.
Charlotte closed the magazine. “Thank you.”
“So many things happened that week. Do you want to finally talk about them?”
Charlotte spun and faced her mother. “What do you mean? We’ve been through the whole thing with Amelie and how we’re going to move forward.”
“I don’t mean the sabotage, ma petite. I mean you. You’re different.”
Alarm jolted through Charlotte as she tried not to think about what had precipitated that change. Jacob’s words, his questioning, his confidence in her. She’d tried to recapture the feeling on her return; updated her wardrobe with some more daring choices and colors, exerted her opinion more readily during meetings. Yet somehow it just wasn’t the same. She didn’t feel as capable, and couldn’t figure out why.
“It’s complicated, Maman.”
“It usually is when a man is involved.”
Charlotte glanced up sharply. “There is no man.”
“If you say so.”
The coffee service arrived, and Aurora went to fix herself a cup. Charlotte held back. She was so out of sorts today that the smell of the coffee wasn’t as inviting as she would have hoped. It actually smelled a bit sharp, acrid. “Is the coffee burnt?”
“I don’t think so.” Aurora liked hers black and took a sip. “Tastes fine to me. Now, tell me what happened in New York. You gave up your signature look midtrip and then you dealt with Amelie and the canceled show. And then went on to host the party. You did a wonderful job, Charlotte. You really stepped into your own. So why have you been so sad since your return?”
Charlotte’s stomach turned at the scent of the coffee, and she reached for one of the peppermint tea bags that were usually meant for Arabella. “I haven’t been sad. I’ve just been tired.”
Aurora’s brow creased in concern. “You’ve been working too hard. Getting run-down. Have you had your iron checked?”
“Don’t fuss, Maman. I’m fine.”
“It has to do with Jacob Wolfe, doesn’t it?”
Just hearing his name made her heart ache. How ridiculous. “Jacob Wolfe was my bodyguard. He’s a nice man. That’s all.”
That’s all there could be. In six weeks, not once had he tried to make contact. That said it all.
“He’s six foot three of gorgeous male that you shared an apartment with for nine days. I would have thought he’d be irresistible.”
Charlotte nearly ripped the tea bag in half, taking it out of the paper. “Maman, stop. Please.” She dropped the bag in the cup and then added hot water. Mint rose in the steam and she breathed it in. Yes, that was better than coffee.
“Oh, ma petite. I am sorry. I was teasing but I can see it is not amusing.” She retrieved the magazine and flipped to the page with the picture of them dancing. “You look very happy here. And relaxed. You became...friends?”
Charlotte nodded slightly, a lump in her throat.
“Lovers? Oh, I know, I’m not supposed to ask that of my grown children. But the party was after the sabotage, and he stayed in New York. With you.”
“His contract was until the Saturday.”
“Sweetheart, I spoke to both of you on that Wednesday. His services were no longer required. He got his fee, but he wasn’t under obligation to stay. But he did. Why?”
Holding it inside was killing her. It was silly to think that she’d fallen for someone so quickly, but here she was six weeks later, unable to eat or get enough sleep. She went to a chair and sat down, cradling her cup of tea. Aurora followed and took a chair next to her.
“He stayed because I asked him to. Because he went to the party with me as my friend and that night he became my lover. He made me feel...different. Braver. He let me be myself and wasn’t threatened. And he wanted nothing from me. Do you know how rare that is?”
“Oui, ma petite.” Aurora put down her cup. “I do.” She took Charlotte’s hand in hers. “So what went wrong?”
Charlotte pulled away. “Nothing. We have very different lives, and we don’t even live in the same country. It would never work.”
“Your brother is doing fine with that with Gabi,” Aurora pointed out.
“Just because it works for them doesn’t mean it would for us. Besides, our jobs keep us both very busy. We don’t have time for a relationship.”
Aurora sighed. “Well, perhaps it’s for the best, then.”
Something twigged in Charlotte, got her hackles up just a bit. Whenever her mother took that “it’s for the best” tone, it was never quite sincere. Indeed, it usually ended up with
Charlotte feeling flawed and a disappointment.
“What do you mean?” She put down her cup. Maybe the tea wasn’t a good idea, either. Her stomach turned over. Or maybe it was conflict making her nauseated.
Aurora crossed her legs and waved a hand in a graceful gesture. “Oh, it’s just that if you were really smitten, you wouldn’t be finding all kinds of excuses.”
Excuses? Charlotte’s earlier annoyance turned into a blaze of frustration. “Excuses?” She stood. “You don’t think I put in sixty-hour weeks in this job? Or spend my downtime checking emails and doing market research? Do you realize that my entire social life revolves around Aurora Inc. functions? That I never have time to spend with my college friends or...or...”
“What the heck is going on in here?”
Charlotte spun around and saw her twin, William, standing in the door. William, so handsome and happy and perfect. She loved him but right now his perfection was aggravating. Of course he’d nearly thrown everything aside for Gabi, a perfect example of sacrificing for love. Meanwhile, Charlotte was standing there, feeling underappreciated and even a little taken advantage of.
“None of your business.” The nausea was overwhelming now. “Please excuse me. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She hurried to the executive bathroom, went inside and locked the door. Maybe a sip of water would help. She ran water and cupped her hand to drink, and the moment she swallowed, the water—and her earlier tea—made a reappearance. Moments later she knelt on the floor, still gasping, tears burning her eyes.
There was only one reason she could think of for being turned off by coffee and throwing up in the bathroom. She hadn’t had a period since returning from New York, either.
Ignoring the meeting that was surely now underway, Charlotte took the elevator down to street level and made her way to a pharmacy where she bought a pregnancy test. Then she took it back up to the private bathroom and waited for the results.
It didn’t take even the full three minutes. One minute in, the stick told the truth in bright pink. She was pregnant. So much for the withdrawal method working. One time. Just once without protection, and here she was. Bound to be a single mum. Her heart trembled.