Just as she decided they needed to make a trip to the drugstore, her mind hit the hurdle that her senses had obscured.
She couldn’t have great sex with Charlie Damned Smith because he thought that gave him a right to tell her what to do.
Punching him in the ribs, she shoved away his arm and leapt from the bed. “I’m going to work.”
She gave him credit for not bellowing and waking Beth. Locking the bathroom door and stepping into the shower, she waited for Charlie to batter the door down. The door remained ominously silent. Penelope regarded it warily by the time she stepped out of the shower. She wrapped a towel around her and wondered if he could blockade her in here.
She dried off and pulled on her warmest, fluffiest robe. Charlie had a way of making her forget her intentions, and she didn’t want any distractions when she walked out.
He wasn’t in the bedroom. His clothes were gone. Had he left without saying good-bye? She couldn’t believe he’d do that to her.
That thought startled the hell out of her. Men always did things like that. Why in the name of heaven would she think Charlie was different?
Penelope pulled on a navy cashmere suit and a silk shell, trying to analyze why she believed he was the kind of man who stuck around when things went wrong.
He hadn’t run out on her when the dead body turned up on the beach. Another man would have thought of his own neck first.
She was actually admiring the wretch. Where were her brains?
Rotted by sex apparently.
She found Charlie charming Beth over coffee and muffins in the kitchen. He’d retrieved his backpack from the car and actually wore a regular button-down shirt for a change, although it was work-shirt blue and worn over a slightly tattered black T-shirt. She certainly couldn’t accuse him of being a clotheshorse as so many men with his looks were. Or maybe he knew work clothes enhanced his rugged handsomeness.
He stood up as she entered the room and, without the slightest hint of embarrassment, caught her waist and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Cool suit, but I like the braid and baseball cap better.”
He was entirely too cheerful. Penny regarded him suspiciously as she poured her coffee. Kisses and hugs at this hour had her totally disoriented. “Have you two been entertaining each other this morning?”
“Charlie said he could partition the kitchen cabinets so I can sort things and find them easier. Do you think the complex will let him do it?” Beth removed a platter of eggs and bacon from the warming oven. “I told him he might as well go ahead and eat these because you wouldn’t, but he insisted on waiting.”
“I’ll have a bite of the eggs, but I really have to get to the office. I have a lot of explaining to do.” Penelope poured juice into Charlie’s glass, all too aware of his masculine bulk as she leaned over his shoulder to reach the table. Every nerve stretched tight as he gave her his best little-boy smile. He was up to something.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that St. Lucia client,” Beth said disingenuously as she spread jam across a muffin. “Charlie’s already called the resort and explained the dangerous situation and that he thought you would be safer back in the States until the criminals are caught. They understand perfectly. They’ve packed up your clothes and are holding them until you return.” She shot Penelope a smile. “He told them he was your husband. Isn’t that cute?”
Shocked that he’d so casually removed her from her job, Penelope set the pitcher down and stared at the two of them. “You did what?”
“Sit, Penny. Eat,” Charlie ordered. “We’ve got a day at the office ahead. You’ve just acquired a new client.”
She sat, but she didn’t eat. She stared at Charlie, wondering if she could see into his head if she looked hard enough. “What new client?” she finally asked. Hell, he must have been one adorable little boy. She could see the gleam in his eyes even now. He had criminals after him, for pity’s sake, and he sat there as if he’d just offered her Christmas.
“Me. Smith and Son Construction. We’re entering the computer age with your help. You can take me to work with you.”
She took a bite of muffin and thought about it. “I’m taking you to work as a new client,” she repeated calmly. She hadn’t decided whether to get hysterical or not. She struggled to imagine introducing Charlie in his work shirt and jeans to the pinstripe suits at the office. She kind of liked the image. And he had a point. He’d stir the office into a gossip hive and divert attention nicely.
She could go out and get hog farmers as clients next. Start a whole new field of endeavor for PC&M. The place could use some new perspectives.
While he waited for her to react, Charlie smiled meltingly at Beth even though she couldn’t see him. “These are the best eggs I’ve ever eaten. I don’t suppose you’ve taught Penelope how to make them?”
Not hysterics, Penelope decided, a baseball bat. She’d take a bat upside his head. “I don’t cook,” she enunciated clearly. “I don’t clean house. I’m a software expert. I install computers and software that meet your business needs. Do you need inventory software, Charlie? Accounts receivable? A complete package, perhaps? I don’t come cheap.”
“Didn’t think you did, sweetheart.” Charlie’s eyes gleamed as he met the dangerous sparkle in hers, but he didn’t carry the innuendo further. “Your company handles Jacobsen’s accounts, don’t they? I’m bigger than he is.”
Penelope eyed his broad shoulders and nodded. “Yeah, I’d say you are. You’re bigger than most people. What’s that got to do with it? Jacobsen goes to our tax specialist. Want me to send you to him?”
“Nope, I want that software package. Inventory. I’ve always wanted to know how much inventory I have.”
Before she could respond appropriately to that, a frantic pounding at the front door intruded.
Charlie was on his feet and at the door in seconds. Penelope had never seen a man that large move so quickly. She would lay wagers he’d been a quarterback. After checking the peephole, he jerked the door open and immediately slammed it behind the pair of intruders after they tumbled in.
“Tammy!” Penelope leapt up to greet Charlie’s sister and the tall, slender man accompanying her.
“I think they saw us. I didn’t know the place was being watched. Is there a back way out of here?” The slender man with the light olive complexion, who Penelope assumed was Raul, cursorily inspected their surroundings, keeping the protective shield of his arm around Tammy’s frail shoulders.
Charlie cursed and turned expectantly to Penelope.
“The tunnel into the medical center.” She’d blown her chance for indulging in hysterics. Now was the time for concentration. “How do you know they’re watching?”
Tammy answered first. “Black Cadillac, tinted windows, engine running, parked by the Dumpsters. Limo service, maybe?” she asked hopefully.
“Not here,” Beth practically snorted. “The complex is for the physically challenged, not the wealthy.”
As Charlie secured the door lock, Penelope thought quickly. “Beth, get the cell phone. Call John and have him bring the van to the medical center. I’ll pack what you need for a few days.”
“There isn’t time—” Raul started to protest as Beth grabbed the phone and punched in numbers.
“Whoever’s out there will have to call and ask what they should do next.” Charlie spoke over Beth’s quiet conversation. “Then they have to figure out the best way of breaking in here. Unless they followed you up, they may not even know which apartment we’re in.” Charlie threw his backpack at his friend and grabbed Penelope’s bag from where they’d dropped it the night before. “How about cash? Is there an ATM at the medical center?”
“Probably.” Pocketing the phone Beth handed her, Penelope left her twin hastily cleaning off the table, scraping eggs into the disposal, and stacking dishes in the dishwasher, while she hurried into Beth’s room and pulled out dresser drawers. “Where do we go from here?” she shouted.
And why
did she think Charlie would already have the answer? She had fallen into the habit of relying on him on the island, where she knew nothing. She was on home territory now. She should be thinking for herself.
“The most public place you can think of. Get them out in crowds, in a place that can’t be identified with any of us.”
“Disney World,” Penelope replied.
“Disney World,” Beth said in unison.
Charlie offered a harried grin. “You’ve been practicing.”
He glanced back to his sister’s pale face. “You up to it, midget?”
Tammy straightened her shoulders and glared at him. “You bet I am. I want to see it all.” She hesitated, then added, “Isn’t Disney kind of far from here?”
“That’s the best part.” Charlie shouldered Beth’s bag and grabbed her by the elbow. “Did you reach John?”
“Paged and left a message. Do you think we could take the kids?” Beth asked wistfully as Raul opened the door and checked the hallway.
“Have them skip school? What kind of mother are you?” Charlie chided, steering her out the door at Raul’s gesture to go ahead. “Why not?”
Penelope could think of half a dozen reasons why not, but then, she could think of several more that said it would be better if John had the whole family in his company. Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Might as well go for the gusto. She was beginning to sound like a beer commercial.
They took the elevator down to the basement without seeing another soul. Penelope watched the two lovebirds with surreptitious interest, but they didn’t appear very loving. Raul stood stiffly at the back of the elevator, on Tammy’s right should her leg falter, but he didn’t touch her otherwise. Tammy clenched her cane like a weapon, scarcely leaning on it. They didn’t even look at each other. But something in the tension between them warned they were intensely aware of each other’s presence.
She threw Charlie a quick look, but he avoided her eyes. Guiding Beth into the basement hallway as the elevator doors opened, he hurried them down echoing corridors into the antiseptic smell of the clinic.
She wouldn’t tease him. Poor guy, he was having a hard time dealing with the knowledge that his little sister was old enough to fall in love. Add danger into the equation, and he had his hands full. She was beginning to understand that Charlie was the kind of man who accepted his responsibilities and took them seriously. She really hadn’t given him enough credit, probably because he damned well annoyed the devil out of her when he assumed she was one more of his duties.
“All right, is there a lounge or somewhere we can wait and watch until John shows up?” Charlie demanded as they reached the carpeted hallway of the clinic’s main entrance. “I don’t want to sit in front of all this glass like a sitting duck.”
“Upstairs, second floor,” Beth ordered. “There’s an employee lounge. I’ve been helping out where I can. It’s early. I don’t think anyone will complain.”
Everyone’s nerves hung by a fine thread, but they all remained calm and polite as they maneuvered in the elevators, looking like an abandoned tribe of nomads with all their belongings on their backs.
“They probably think we’re all from the mental hospital and you’re our administrator,” Charlie whispered, falling back to Penelope’s side as Beth took command and led the expedition forward.
“I feel more like one of the inmates.” She’d forgotten she wore her best suit while everyone else was in jeans. “Are you sure Raul isn’t just a little on the paranoid side?”
“More than a little. It’s how he’s survived all these years. He’s nearly always right.” Charlie stepped forward to hold the lounge door open so Beth and Tammy could pass. He stuck his hand out and halted Raul before he could follow. “You and me are gonna have a talk, buddy.”
Raul looked guilty, but his glance darted to Penelope and back. “Not now, all right? Later.”
“I think we’d better stick to the problem at hand, Charlie. You can give your morality lecture later, not that you have much in the way of morals to brag about,” Penelope reminded him.
Charlie scowled at her. “If we send them to Orlando, they’ll have to stay up there. The resort has a suite at one of the hotels for the company’s use, but I’ll be damned...”
“I won’t touch her, all right?” Raul said in a low voice, glancing toward the door Charlie had allowed to close. “I want what’s best for her. I can’t believe you let her come here like this.”
“Let her? Like I had a choice.” Still scowling, he shoved open the door and transferred his frown to Penelope. “We’re staying here. I’m still your client, got it?”
Penelope studied his expression, saw what he didn’t say, and nodded. “I’ve got it.”
He was telling her they would act as the decoys so the others could get away.
TWENTY-FOUR
As he traversed the hushed, carpeted halls of one of Miami’s many glass-enclosed office buildings, Charlie wondered if helping Penelope keep her job and letting her run his campaign against evildoers counted as a Valentine present.
He wished he knew what the hell else he thought he was doing. There had to be ten thousand other ways of handling Jacobsen besides walking next to this elegant woman in her sophisticated suit through the halls of the enemy. Charlie didn’t fool himself. These were definitely the halls of the enemy. Jacobsen wore fancy suits like the insects scrambling up and down these corridors. Jacobsen was the one who rubbed shoulders with the bigwigs behind those closed doors, the one who partied with men like Emile.
Smith and Son got its clients the old- fashioned way, by hard work, quality results, word of mouth, and the best bids. And he and his employees did it wearing work shirts instead of Italian suits, and driving pickups instead of BMWs.
So what the hell was he doing here?
As he watched Penelope stride confidently through the corridors, nodding curtly at acquaintances, he knew he was here because of her alone. He should be worrying about Raul and Tammy, looking after business, tracking Jacobsen down in his lair and pounding him against a wall.
Penelope shoved open a glass door and entered a reception area like a general marching to war. Aware that his rumpled work clothes attracted stares, Charlie wondered if he was embarrassing her, but Miss Penny seemed well above that mundane human emotion. He kind of liked that about her.
“Rachel, this is Charles Smith of Smith and Son Construction. Start a new client file if you would.” For the first time since they’d entered the building, she glanced at him. “Would you care for some coffee, Mr. Smith?”
All right, two could play this game. As much as he would like to plant a big one on her right now—she looked so cute with her forehead wrinkled in that officious frown—Charlie gallantly resisted. He’d wager she was treating him just as if he were a multimillion-dollar client. “Black, please.”
Penelope nodded, Rachel made a note and scurried away, and they advanced down more hallways.
Charlie shook hands as she introduced him to a few termites waving papers in Penelope’s direction. He frowned at the bespectacled nerd who dared halt her to talk about a golf date. The man got the message and hastily departed.
Charlie wondered if it was his imagination or if mouths were gaping as he passed by. The bull-in-a-china-shop neurosis returned, but instead of wanting to run, he was beginning to enjoy himself. He suspected half the stares they attracted were pure speculation about his relationship to the gorgeous woman at his side. He’d bet good money that she’d ignored most of the men in the company and rejected the rest. He considered placing a proprietary arm around Penelope’s shoulders just to watch her coworkers go ballistic, but he had the feeling Penelope would blast his arm off first.
Charlie noted with appropriate appreciation that she had an office with a bank of windows to herself. As soon as she shut the door behind them, he shared his appreciation by catching her starchy suit by the waist and pulling her into his arms.
She struggled briefly, but even
in the rarefied air of this environment, the electricity between them ignited fires. Charlie sighed with delight as her lips softened beneath his and the sweetness of her breath invaded his mouth.
“Charlie,” she whispered, embarrassed, as he relented and released her mouth. She’d caught her fingers in the faded fabric of his work shirt, and he could feel the heat of them against his chest. Maybe he should start wearing the shirt unbuttoned.
“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Charlie murmured as he slid his hands under her jacket to stroke the silk beneath, “but I’m about ready to admit that it’s more than sex. How about you?”
“Impossible.” She struggled to free herself, and Charlie let her go. Her hand flew up to check the tight knot of her hair and adjust her glasses. She gestured helplessly with her other hand. “You said you wanted to be a client.”
He hadn’t imagined how much that one little word, impossible, could hurt. He’d thought she was enjoying this as much as he was. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he’d just embarrassed the hell out of her. “Right,” he ground out between clenched teeth as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Impossible to imagine anything between a clown and Miss Junior League. What was I thinking?”
She flung the papers in her hands onto her desk and retreated to her office chair. “That’s an insult to clowns and probably to the Junior League. I’m a little too bossy for the tea-and-garden-party set. Now, what is it we’re supposed to be doing?”
Charlie relaxed a fraction as he settled into a rolling leather chair. He’d flustered her, he could tell. She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Okay, if we’re not clown and Junior League, what are we, then? Oil and water? Is it so impossible to think maybe we’ve got something going between us?”
She ran her long, slender hands up and down her face. “Don’t do this to me, Charlie. I’m scared to death about Beth, I’m worried about my job, about this whole blasted mess. I can’t even think straight anymore. Just tell me what we’re supposed to be doing here besides providing entertainment for the rest of the firm.”
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