“Sir,” she said, smoothing her frilly white apron. “You’re looking very tired after your long day of work. Let me help you relax.”
His gaze roved up and down her form. “A sexy maid costume will not lower my blood pressure.”
She shot a sly glance at his groin. “Or other parts of your anatomy.” Taking his hand, she led him to the bedroom. She loosened his tie, and unfastened enough buttons to press her lips to his nipples. A few deliberate scrapes of her teeth and his cock swelled.
Her nimble fingers unfastened his belt and lowered his zipper. He caught his breath, his pulse racing as she scooped his shaft out of his boxer-briefs. After a sassy grin, she kneeled in front of him and took his cock into her mouth. The heat was heaven, the flicker of her tongue across the underside of his shaft like yanking a livewire within him. His legs trembled, and he gasped. A wave of love and desire constricted his chest while her lips and tongue hurtled him toward orgasm so fast he trembled. She took him deeper, sucking, licking. Massaging his taut balls.
“Aw, Charlotte. Yeah, like that,” he murmured, his hands fastening on her shoulders.
She didn’t reply, merely quickening her pace, flinging him into a world of sensation. Unable to remain still, his hips jerked. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat before he pulled back. Not hesitating she ran her tongue over the tip, licking away pre-come, then she sucked hard and his body slipped his restraint. He exploded into pleasure so hard he saw flashes behind his closed lids.
Her tongue licked lazily across the mushroom head, and when she pulled back, her eyes appeared dark and mysterious, holding secrets he wished he understood. “What do you think of dress-up now? Does it work for you?”
Ash nodded dumbly, lightheadedness making it difficult to think. She didn’t want to marry him, yet hadn’t moved out, and now she’d blindsided him with sex. This wasn’t the way this courtship was meant to run.
Chapter Fourteen
“I love your father,” Charlotte said. “I might marry him.”
Ash let out a loud raspberry, attracting the attention of a hovering stewardess. The seat belt sign went on and a voice on the intercom informed the passengers the plane would land in ten minutes. Ash clasped her left hand, his thumb stroking across her naked ring finger. “Too bad I saw you first, sweetheart.”
She’d been right to refuse his proposal. Eventually Ash would change his mind and move on while she applied herself to a career and travel.
Ms. Feisty lashed out—a pointy boot kick—jerking her thoughts from the past. This sort of thinking is sabotage, Ms. Feisty reminded her. Ash is honest and true and deserves a chance.
Ash curled his fingers around hers and winked at her when she glanced at him. The woman sitting across the aisle stared at him, her greedy thoughts obvious. Ash didn’t even notice, his attention centered on Charlotte.
You don’t deserve his kindness, Ms. Feisty said. Charlotte bowed her head, admitting her inner dragon spoke the truth.
The trip back to Ash’s house didn’t take long. They rounded the corner onto Ash’s street and the cab slowed. A crowd loitered at the house gate. When they saw the cab approach, they straightened. Cameras obscured faces and lenses pointed in their direction.
Ash sighed. “We knew this was coming, sweetheart. I just wish they weren’t staking out the office as well. One of our prospective clients rang to cancel the other day because of the recent publicity.”
What he was too charitable to mention was that her family had spread the news. She gulped, uncomfortable in the spotlight. To date, she’d managed to ignore ninety-nine percent of the stuff in the newspapers and magazines. “I’m sorry.”
Ash squeezed her fingers, the stroke of his thumb across the back of her hand sending a surge of heat thrumming through her veins. “We can ignore them or we can make a statement telling them the announcement was premature.”
Charlotte searched his gaze and saw he’d do that for her. She could imagine the speculation a denial would generate. More comparisons to Beauty and the Beast and cruel comments about his scars. Stories about how she couldn’t face touching him, let alone jump in bed with him. Do something, Ms. Feisty snapped. “Or you could tell them we’re waiting for the resizing of the ring before we make a formal announcement.”
The blaze of hope in his blue eyes, the explosion of joy. The heat. The expressions told her his answer. They stared at each other while her heart beat a rapid tattoo, and she gave him a wobbly smile, hoping she was doing the right thing.
“Done deal,” he whispered. “Don’t worry. The announcement won’t take long. We’ll be inside with the gates locked behind us in less than ten minutes.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.” His certainty eased the stirring of panic in her. Gran had approved of Ash, and Charlotte loved him. She was sure of it, even if she couldn’t say the words out loud.
The gates swung open and the cab drove through. When Ash helped her from the vehicle, nosy questions hit them in a gigantic wave. Once their bags were unloaded and the driver paid, Ash and Charlotte turned to face the hoard together.
Reporters fired questions. Like a precision weapon, the questions went for the kill.
“Where is the engagement ring?”
“Can we see it?”
“Are your families happy about your relationship?”
“When will you get married?”
Ash waited them out and laughingly held up a hand to silence their clamor. When the noise subsided, he started speaking.
“Charlotte and I are engaged. The ring is at the jewelers for resizing. We haven’t set a date for the wedding yet, but our friends and family are thrilled for us. We’ll pose for some quick photos now and then we’d appreciate it if you’d respect our privacy.”
“Do you intend to do any interviews?” a woman called.
“No,” Ash said decisively.
“Charlotte, do you love Ash?” someone else shouted.
“Are you ready for the photos?” Ash brushed the reporter aside. He drew her against his side, his warm strength helping her to face the yappy press. He whispered a bit of nonsense about the nearest photographer’s big ears, and she smiled up at him. Camera shutters clicked nonstop with shouted requests for them to shift positions.
“Thank you. We’re going now.” Ash ignored requests for more photos, ushering Charlotte up to the house. The gates slid closed, leaving them in privacy.
“Wow.” Charlotte moved on trembling legs, away from the mass of hovering people. “I don’t know how you stand the kafuffle.”
“They’ll lose interest once we’re married.” He reached for her hand. “I have a bottle of Champagne in the fridge. Let’s celebrate.”
She forced a bright grin to hide the uneasy emotions bouncing around inside her. Ash was a good man, and she was very lucky. “I hope someone else claims their attention.” But in her heart she realized their engagement was new, and the press wouldn’t give up any time soon.
* * * * *
Ash left the house later than normal, and Charlotte settled into her normal morning routine. Feeling conscious of the sapphire-and-diamond engagement ring weighing down her finger, she caught a cab to Maria’s boutique, doing her best to ignore the members of the press loitering outside the gate. When she arrived at the boutique, she had to force her way past the crowd at the front door. They lobbed questions, one after another, making her feel as if she were facing a determined tennis opponent without a racket to defend herself.
“What do you think of the latest developments?” one fired at Charlotte.
A blonde woman shoved a microphone in her direction. “Are you going to meet your father?”
“Will this affect your engagement with Ashley Marlborough?” a man shouted from the rear of the group.
“What does Ashley think of your father?” a woman asked. “Any conflict there?”
Her father? Charlotte gaped at them, taking two half-steps back as they pressed toward her. Luckily Maria
waded in to the fray, evicting the men and women from her shop entrance with threats of the police. She slammed the door after them, firmly turning the lock.
“I don’t understand. My father is dead.”
Maria stood in front of her, indecision written plainly on her face. Finally, she shooed Charlotte to the back of the store. “You’d better take a seat.”
“Why? What’s going on?” Tendrils of apprehension rippled along her spine, leaving a rash of goose bumps. She fell onto a wooden straight-backed chair in the kitchenette, not taking her gaze off Maria.
“I take it you haven’t read the paper this morning,” Maria said.
“No, after I started dating Ash, I try not to read newspapers. I loathe the speculation and innuendo, and I hate them calling Ash The Beast. Ash is the nicest, most decent man I know,” she said hotly. “People who can’t see past his scars need glasses.”
Maria’s smile was wide and encouraging. “I can see you love him. He’s a lucky man.” She sobered, turning to pick up a newspaper. “You’d better read this. I’ll go and see if it’s safe to open the doors yet.”
Charlotte unfolded the paper, stared at the headline. She read the lead paragraph under the headline, her hands gripping the edges of the newsprint pages, her pulse roaring inside her head. She scanned the rest of the article, an interview with Elizabeth and Jenny.
“They’re still out there,” Maria said with a trace of disgust. “I told them if they don’t move along, I intend to take action. It’s not right when they encroach this way.”
“Do you think it’s true?” Charlotte stared at the black-and-white photograph accompanying the story. “Do you think Elizabeth is telling the truth?” The words sounded far away, as if someone else were saying them. The roaring in her head escalated, and she squinted at the grainy features of the man, trying to see her nose and eyes in his face.
“I don’t know, dear.” Sympathy laced Maria’s words, her hand gentle as she squeezed Charlotte’s shoulder.
Charlotte stared at the words until the letters blurred.
Richard Dixon wasn’t her father.
No, it couldn’t be true. She bounded to her feet. “I have to go out. I’m sorry. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Maria grasped her arm, tugging her to a stop. “Why don’t you ring Ash?”
Before she did anything stupid, Maria meant. “I…I need to think. I’ll ring him later.”
Maria didn’t look happy, but she nodded. “All right. Leave via the back and walk along the alley.”
“Thanks.” Charlotte scooped up the handbag she’d dropped on the kitchenette floor and headed for the rear.
Outside, a bird sang in a nearby tree. The sun shone from a brilliant blue sky with not a cloud in sight. It heated her bare arms and the top of her head, yet ice chilled her from the inside out. She shivered and rubbed her hand up and down one arm. It did nothing to dispel the coldness encasing her.
Lies.
Her entire life had been a lie.
A glance to her right told her the reporters and photographers were still hanging around, waiting for her to depart. Abruptly, she turned left and stalked along the street, trying to outpace her thoughts.
Lies. All lies.
Once she reached Broadway, she hailed a cab and sank onto the rear seat with relief.
“Where to, love?” the elderly taxi driver asked.
“Remuera,” she said, giving the driver the address of Elizabeth’s house. Jenny and Rachel would both be at work. Elizabeth too. This was probably a wasted trip.
* * * * *
Ash finished his meeting and ushered the client out.
“Hey, boss.” Laura sent him a quizzical look. “You’re looking happy considering the stories in the paper today.”
About to enter his office again, Ash came to an abrupt halt. “What stories? Something about the engagement?”
“You’d better read this.” She handed him a newspaper.
He scanned the story, his brows drawing together. Hell. He ducked into his office and grabbed his cell phone and car keys. “Laura, take care of my appointments for the rest of the day. Reschedule what you can and get someone else to see the clients you can’t put off. Give them my apologies and reassure them I’ll be back in the office tomorrow.”
Ash strode from his office building, juggling his phone at the same time. He hit speed dial for Charlotte but the call went straight to voice mail. Next, he tried Maria.
“No, she’s not here, Ash. She said she needed to think.”
“Do you know where she went?”
“I asked her if she wanted me to ring you, but she said no,” Maria said, her tone full of apology.
“Thanks.” Ash slid behind the wheel of his car, thought for a moment and headed home. Two photographers lingered in front, but the house was empty. Damn it, where was she?
Surely she wouldn’t go to face off with Elizabeth?
He drew a sharp breath and let it ease out. That’s what he’d do if he were in Charlotte’s position.
Ignoring the clicking of cameras, he sped from his driveway and turned toward Remuera.
* * * * *
Charlotte rapped sharply on the front door, impatience prodding her temper. When no one answered, she twisted the handle and, to her surprise, found the door unlocked. She stepped inside, listened for a minute and headed for the kitchen.
Elizabeth, Rachel and Jenny were all there, but none of them noticed her arrival. They were too busy arguing.
“I can’t believe you did this to Charlotte. And Jenny.” Angry color filled Rachel’s cheeks. “An interview with the press? Really? What has Charlotte ever done to either of you? She looked after Gran when none of us could tear ourselves from our busy social lives. Surely you can’t begrudge her the inheritance that much. Charlotte loved Gran, and she showed it every day, which is more than any of us did.” Her voice was thick with angry tears, her hands fisted at her sides as if she wanted to do physical damage.
Charlotte remained frozen by the door, her throat and chest so tight it was a physical ache pounding in concert with the one at her temples.
“Dammit,” Rachel muttered. “I’m proud of Charlotte and everything she’s achieved. Am I envious? Hell, yes, but it’s a healthy envy. Her new life and fiancé are things I aspire to, and I intend to get both, but not by cheating and sneaking around, not by selling out my family to the press for money. Charlotte makes me want to be a better person, and I’d rather be related to her than to the two of you. I’m leaving. I can’t bear to breathe the same contaminated air.” She swung around and came to a halt when she saw Charlotte. Rachel’s face crumpled and she ran to Charlotte. For the second time, her oldest stepsister pulled her into an embrace. It was a fierce hug, painful even, but the warmth and well-meaning in Rachel’s touch thawed some of the ice inside Charlotte.
“I’m so sorry,” Rachel whispered. “I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay.” Charlotte found herself comforting her stepsister.
“It’s not all right,” Rachel said fiercely. “What they’ve done is despicable. Gran is probably rolling in her grave.”
“She’s probably already here haunting them,” Charlotte said because she knew Rachel was right. Gran wouldn’t have condoned Elizabeth’s actions.
“I hope so. I’m going to pack. My friend Julia keeps asking me to move in with her and share costs. I’m going to say yes.” Rachel hesitated. “Will I see you later? In the future, I mean? Could we meet for coffee or a drink sometime?”
Instinct and past experience made Charlotte want to say no, but the silent pleading in her stepsister changed her mind. She gave a stiff nod.
“Thank you.” Rachel glanced over her shoulder. “Give them hell.”
“What are you doing here?” Elizabeth’s belligerence held a trace of defensiveness, as if she knew she’d stepped far from decency.
“Is it true?” Charlotte demanded.
“Charlotte,” a familiar voice said f
rom behind her. A hand slipped around her waist and she sank back against Ash’s hard chest for an instant before stiffening and jerking away.
She stalked toward Elizabeth, fury rushing up from her belly. It exploded from her like lava from a volcano. “Is. It. True?”
Elizabeth backed up half a step. “You can’t come in here. This is private property.”
“I am going to sue you,” Charlotte spat. “You can’t go around telling people—”
Amusement burst from Elizabeth in a harsh laugh. “It’s true. Richard isn’t your father. After your precious mother died, he was stuck with you.”
“He loved me.”
“He loved Lisa. You were part of the package.” Malice coated the words, a sense of satisfaction.
“Don’t listen to her poison.” Ash was a solid presence at her side.
Charlotte focused on Elizabeth, stalking closer, intent on her prey. “What do you mean?”
“Lisa had money.”
Charlotte rejected the words instantly. She remembered her parents together, their quiet laughter and whispering. Yes, they’d loved each other, but they’d loved her too. Then doubt surged through her as other memories—long forgotten—flickered through her mind in a slow-moving film reel. Another man. Big. So big. Shouting. Weeping.
She swallowed her escalating fears. “Who is my father? Where is he?”
“Jason Humphries went to jail for murder. He died three years later in a prison fight.”
Dead. Charlotte gasped for breath, struggled to maintain her composure, but it was like sucking air through a straw. Her chest tightened. Black spots appeared in her vision. She sucked harder and a little oxygen made it down the narrow tube. A wheeze escaped as she fought for another breath. A roar rushed through her mind. Panicked. Painful.
She felt as if she were floating, untethered, without roots.
She stumbled for the door, determined to leave before the tears welling in her eyes overflowed to dampen her cheeks. She came face-to-face with Ash, stared at him. Her heart twisted in anguish as another truth struck her over the head.
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