Ain't Misbehaving (13 page)

Traffic was light, and Ash soon pulled up in front of Elizabeth’s house. He undid his seat belt and she stopped him.

“Stay. I can see myself inside.”

“I was hoping I’d get a good night kiss.”

A smile curled her mouth. “You can have one of those.”

His lips against hers drew a sigh, the seductive flicker of his tongue an enticement to sink back under his spell. A revealing groan squeezed past her lips, the kiss taking on an air of desperation. The outside light switched on without warning, the bright beam intruding on their private world.

The front door opened, and Elizabeth stood there. One glimpse of her posture brought a wince in Charlotte. The brewing storm was clear, even from this distance. “I’d better go.” Charlotte opened the door.

“Wait. Give me your cell phone number.”

Charlotte shot a quick glance at Elizabeth, her stomach doing a double pike and spinning into freefall. Bloody hell. She rattled off the number, her hand going to the door.

“You’re going to accept the job with Marlborough Media?”

Somehow. “I promised Gran I would.”

“Good. Can you start on Monday?”

“Okay,” Charlotte said, and she jumped out of the car. Swallowing the nerves buffeting her, she walked toward Elizabeth. Behind her, Ash pulled out of the driveway, the low purr of his vehicle indicating she was alone to face the dragon. Which was what she’d wanted, she reminded herself. Her problem. Her battle.

“You’re late,” Elizabeth snapped.

Charlotte glanced at her watch. “It’s half ten.” Jenny and Rachel stayed out much later. Sometimes they didn’t come home.

“The dishes need doing and the kitchen requires a tidy. Make sure you do it before you go to bed.”

Charlotte nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“You smell of sex,” Elizabeth snapped.

Bother. She’d hoped Elizabeth wouldn’t notice her crumpled appearance, blindingly obvious in the unforgiving hall light. “I’ll go and do the dishes.” A strategic retreat. Make sure she lived to fight another day.

Charlotte rose at six the next morning, even though it had taken her a good hour to return the kitchen to the pristine condition in which she’d left it. No point complaining because Elizabeth would tell her if she didn’t like the way things were done, she could leave.

Breakfast was ready when Elizabeth walked into the kitchen. She inclined her head and actually thanked her for the coffee.

Foreboding rose in Charlotte.

“Come and sit down, Charlotte. We need to talk.”

Charlotte forced herself to walk over to the breakfast table—one foot after the other. The wooden chair scraped across the floor tiles when she pulled it out. Someone had spilt something on the floor. She’d need to mop today. The mundane thoughts helped to keep her panic at bay.

“I talked to Mum after you left and also to the doctors.” Elizabeth’s voice trembled a fraction before steadying. “The doctors say there’s nothing much they can do, except make Mum comfortable. The lupus has compromised her other organs, and she doesn’t have much time left.” She gulped and picked up her coffee with a shaky hand. After one sip, she set the mug down. “The doctors said they’d give her drugs to alleviate the pain. Mum wants to come home, but she requires a nurse or companion.” Elizabeth’s voice broke, her eyes taking on a distinct sheen.

Charlotte interpreted everything Elizabeth didn’t say. Wincing, she weighed the job of her dreams against spending more time with Gran, and it was no contest. “I’ll look after Gran.”

Elizabeth stared at her and, after a pause, nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see to arrangements for bringing her home. I’ll ring the hospital now to see how she is.” She rose and left the kitchen, bypassing the phone on the counter.

An ache spread across Charlotte’s chest then a tear plopped onto the tabletop, and Charlotte realized she was crying. With an impatient hand, she swiped the moisture away and stood decisively. Time to mop the floor. There was no point in sobbing over lost dreams.

Chapter Five

The unexpected business trip to Australia couldn’t have come at a worse time. Charlotte’s cell phone appeared out of order, and his calls went through to a recording stating the number was no longer in use. In the end he’d left a message every night at the McDougal house, and whichever stepsister he’d spoken to had promised to give Charlotte his messages. That was one week ago.

He checked his watch and silently urged the taxi driver to go faster, impatient to walk into the office and catch a glimpse of Charlotte at work, even if he couldn’t talk to her. They left Auckland airport at a crawl—school holidays and rush-hour traffic combining to make a nasty stop-start snarl. Brief glimpses of green pastures gave way to a cityscape, and if anything, the traffic grew worse. He pulled his cell phone out to ring the office and request that Charlotte stay behind before changing his mind. While he didn’t give a damn about gossip—the magazines wrote what they wanted anyhow—he knew rumors about them appearing in print would upset Charlotte. She was skittish enough without the added pressure.

He shook his head as he acknowledged the truth. Charlotte had wriggled past his reserve the first moment she’d grinned at him in her direct unprincesslike way across the dance floor of the ballroom. They were good together, and he didn’t intend to let her push him away without a fight.

Half an hour later, he stalked into the office.

“Good, you’re back,” his vice president said. “A few things have come with the Shafeur account.”

Ash nodded without looking at him, glancing at the large open space where his employees worked. At twenty to six, many of them were packing up to leave for the day. He couldn’t see Charlotte among them. “How is the new girl working out?”

“Didn’t Laura tell you? She rang on Monday morning and turned down the job.”

“No. What reason did she give for refusing the job?”

“Family. Her grandmother is dying.”

“Damn.” He’d expected as much and wished he’d been wrong.

John sent him a strange look, pulling Ash to his senses. “I’ve met her grandmother. She’s a character.”

“Laura and I took a look at the other applicants. In the end we hired the next two on our final list. With the amount of work we’re attracting, we can do with the extra talent coming through. Train them to our methods.”

Ash nodded, even as disappointment seared his gut. Maybe this way was better. He could ask Charlotte out without worrying about gossip. “John, now that the problems are sorted out in Sydney I don’t have much on. Is there a new job I could sink my teeth into? Something small, maybe from a new client, a job I can work on between my other responsibilities.”

“There’s a bakery that wants us to take on their account. I was going to turn them down, but if you’ve got time, I’ll give them the go ahead.”

“Email me the details. Is there anything else I need to look at tonight?”

John laughed. “Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow. Go home. You look knackered.”

“I am tired,” Ash confessed.

“Too many nights out on the town with beautiful ladies.”

The words struck like a jab in the guts with a rusty knife. The papers had reported his nights out and taken photographs of him dancing with different women. What they hadn’t mentioned was that their husbands were present or that he’d returned to his hotel suite alone. He shrugged, the inference by both John and the press irking him. “I think I’ll head home.” He turned to leave and halted. “Who did we employ?”

“Scott Chandler and today we decided on the other applicant who already worked for us on the admin side—Jenny McDougal.”

Ash nodded, rolling the info around his mind. He recalled both applicants, and of course, he’d met Jenny. Coincidences happened, but they always made the hair at the back of his neck bristle. He could be wrong, but in this case he suspected how some of the cards had fallen—pushed with the help of Charlotte’s stepmother and stepsisters. “See you tomorrow, John.”

Outside the office, he hailed another cab to take him home. He had the beginnings of a plan, but he needed to mull it over to make sure he covered every angle. If what he suspected was true, he intended to make sure the culprits didn’t get everything their way.

* * * * *

“Would you like to listen to music or read tonight, Gran?” Charlotte didn’t think Gran would manage to hold a book given her current weakness, but she pretended otherwise.

“Can you to read me more of the historical romance? We’re almost at the dirty bits.”

“Aw, Gran,” Charlotte complained because she knew it could make Gran chortle. “The erotic ones always make me blush.”

“Good for blood circulation,” Gran said with a flicker of the old gleam in her eyes.

Charlotte suppressed her grin and huffed out a put-upon sigh. She reached for the e-reader, and turned it on to begin reading.

“Louisa gasped at the sensual bite and play of his teeth, the hard suction of his lips and the tug that echoed in her pussy. She yanked on his hair, her hips moving against him in silent insistence. Laughing quietly, he switched his mouth to her other breast and repeated the treatment, a delicious combo of wet mouth and hard pulls. She ran her fingers through his long hair, tugging strands from his queue. When he lifted his head, she arched upward to meet his kiss, tasting the brandy on his lips.”

“This is a good historical,” Gran said. “I want you to help me buy some more online tomorrow. We can choose them together.”

“Sure. Do you want me to keep reading?”
Please, let me stop reading.
This reminded her of Ash and everything they’d done together in the hotel room after the ball and in the alley.

“You’ve haven’t read a page yet.” Gran’s eyes narrowed then glee echoed in her full smile. “You don’t want to read the naughty words.”

Charlotte grinned to hide her discomfort, took a deep breath and plunged into the rest of the scene.

“‘I hate being apart from you. I hate seeing you with her.’ She pressed her lips to his throat and flicked out her tongue, savoring the faint saltiness of his skin.

“‘Louisa, you know I don’t love her,’ he said. ‘Not the same way I love you.’

“Beneath her hand his heart beat a rapid tattoo, and the passion burning in his eyes increased the desperate hunger inside her.

“‘Kiss me,’ she begged. ‘Fuck me. Show me how much you need me.’

“‘I do need you, my sweet.’ He kissed her neck, sucked a bite from the curve of one breast while he teased and tormented the nipple of her other. Liquid heat bloomed in her, and when he glanced at her, she caught the flare of desire in his eyes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he rose over her, caught her breath when he pushed inside her damp heat. He plunged deep—”

A sharp snore broke the flow of the love scene. Gran’s mouth had dropped open and her glasses were askew. Relieved she could stop reading, but with a heavy heart, Charlotte set the e-reader aside and leaned over to remove Gran’s glasses. She picked up the dinner tray, most of the meal uneaten and retreated to the kitchen.

“That’s wonderful news, Jenny.” Elizabeth stopped talking when Charlotte appeared in the doorway. “How’s Mum?”

“She fell asleep while I was reading to her.”

Rachel stood. “Jenny and I are going out for a few drinks. You won’t mind doing the dishes, will you?”

Of course she minded. Charlotte started to clear the dishes off the table, noted the empty plates. “You guys ate everything? You didn’t leave me anything?” Fatigue loosened the control she usually kept on her tongue. “I’ve looked after Gran all day, cooked meals and I’m tired and hungry.” She slammed down a heap of dishes on the counter so hard a fork shot off the top plate and bounced on the floor. “Rachel, since you and Jenny ate the food, you can do the dishes tonight.”

Elizabeth’s mouth tightened. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk.”

“What about Mum?”

“Surely you can look after her if she wakes and needs anything,” Charlotte said, attempting to sound reasonable when she wanted to shriek like a mythical banshee. She paused a second, saw Elizabeth’s curt acceptance and left before her stepsisters started bitching.

Outside the air was fresh and it was almost dark. Street lights illuminated the pavement, and her shoes slapped the path with each quick step, temper still burning through her. She’d agreed to look after Gran and had time to make meals, but that didn’t mean they should treat her as a slave. She kept walking, resentment marching through her mind.

Ash hadn’t called. She’d thought he would ring at the house, but she hadn’t heard from him since he’d taken her for dinner. Maybe he was angry because she’d turned down the job. Heck, she’d hated having to make the phone call, had struggled to get out the words. Anger still choked her, a hint of bitterness, yet she couldn’t regret spending time with Gran. A knot formed in her throat, the burn of tears stinging her eyes.

She kept walking, pushing her speed to outrun her thoughts. Ash popped into her mind again. “Damn the man!”

Perhaps it had been about sex. He’d had her twice and intended to move on, the ultimate playboy as portrayed in the magazines. Yeah, maybe he was one of those men who delighted in the chase and lost interest once he’d caught his prey. Heck, she hadn’t even made the pursuit difficult. God, she had to stop thinking about him. No, instead of Ash she had to consider her future and what she’d do after Gran…

Her throat worked in a swallow. She didn’t know what she’d do. An empty bank account meant a lack of opportunity, and she doubted Elizabeth would help her, even if she begged. No wiser, but feeling calmer at least, she rounded the corner into her street.

When she let herself inside, she found Elizabeth in the lounge watching television.

“Did you have a nice walk?”

“Yes, thank you.” Charlotte eyed her stepmother with trepidation.

“Mum is still sleeping.”

Charlotte nodded. “I’m tired. I’ll check on her before I go to bed.”

“I cleaned the kitchen for you.”

Charlotte froze in the doorway. Did her stepmother want a medal? She ended up giving a curt nod and turned to leave, but Elizabeth wasn’t finished with her.