Ain't Misbehaving (22 page)

Charlotte shrugged and tugged her hand free. “Nothing in life is easy. Why should this be any different? I’m cooking roast chicken for dinner.” She took measure of his expression and scowled. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not complaining. I’m speaking the truth. Listening to the lawyer reading Gran’s will reminded me of her fighting spirit. Even though she suffered from the lupus, she never gave up. She always tried to see the best in everyone. It’s not a bad way to live.” She sauntered to the pantry and pulled out half a dozen potatoes and two kumara.

“You don’t have to cook for me.”

“You know I enjoy cooking. Besides, it’s the least I can do to repay you for taking me in.”

Some of his good mood faded. He didn’t want her gratitude. “I have a party to attend on Friday night. Would you go with me?”

She hesitated before replying. “I don’t want to appear in the gossip papers.”

Words of reassurance rose to his lips, but he bit them back. This was his world, and she’d need to accept him, warts and all, for their relationship to grow. As much as he wanted he couldn’t protect her from everything. “Sorry. Comes with the territory. Do you need help with dinner?”

“No, the veg won’t take long to prepare. I suppose I could go to the party.”

“I need to shower.”

His back was stiff as he strode out of the kitchen. Charlotte frowned after him, aware she’d upset him. In truth, one date wasn’t much for him to ask of her. She picked up a kumara and peeled away the purple skin of the sweet potato. Yes, she could face reporters and photographers if he stood at her side. She owed him that much at least.

In the distance the shower switched on. She finished the vegetables and checked the chicken before returning to her laptop.

“How does this look?” she asked when Ash entered the kitchen.

He rested his hand on the back of the chair, his breath stirring her hair as he leaned over her shoulder. “This is good, but it’s too pink.”

Charlotte studied her pink design. “But beauty salons are for women. Women like pink.”

“Pink and women together is a stereotype.”

Maybe he was right. “What about blue?”

“Try red or green, or you could go gold and black.”

Charlotte clicked her mouse, turning her motif into gold and black. “That’s it,” she said, excited by the simple changes. Now the motif appeared sophisticated and drew the eye. She turned in her chair and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.” Her lips met his, and she nibbled and licked, using tongue and teeth. When she tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled back.

“I don’t need your gratitude.” Ash stalked across the kitchen and stared out the window before turning around to face her. He folded his arms across his chest, his mouth pulled to a tight line. “I don’t need sex if you’re only sleeping with me now out of a sense of obligation. Damn it, I’m not desperate.”

“No, it’s not like that,” she said.

Ash stomped to the fridge and pulled out a beer and a bottle of white wine. He poured a glass of wine and handed it to her. “Make me understand because I’m getting the impression you feel obligated to cook for me, offer sex and go out with me in exchange for living here.”

“No!”

“Okay then. Explain,” Ash said. “Because from where I’m standing that’s what I see. I’ve had men and women offer themselves in exchange for favors from me—dates, photo and business opportunities in exchange for sex with
The Beast.
”

“No, Ash. I like you.
You.
Not your money and position.” His expression didn’t shift. “Damn it. I slept with you the night we met when I had no idea who you were. I’ve never done that before. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

The buzzer went off, and Charlotte jumped to her feet to check on the chicken.

“Is that all?”

“No. Ash. You’re funny and sweet and sexy. Why wouldn’t I want to share your bed?”

“I have burn scars on my face and chest,” he snapped. “No one can honestly look at me and say they don’t want to look away. I’m
The Beast
.” He raked her with a harsh glare.

“Of course I see your scars. I’m not blind, but I see your kindness, your smile and so many other great things.”

Ash sipped his beer, his gaze slicing and dissecting. “Okay,” he said, but his tight jaw indicated his real opinion on the subject.

Well, damn. That sliver of mistrust went both ways. She was a penniless nobody and would remain that way if Elizabeth had her way. Why was he interested in her? Offering her help? There were invisible strings somewhere. Charlotte wanted to demand answers too, but instead she added the vegetables to the roasting dish and returned the chicken to the oven. “Tell me about the party. How dressy will it be? Will my flapper dress work?”

Despite his protestations, she did owe him, and going to a party was a small way to repay his kindness.

* * * * *

“Where have the reporters gone? The photographers?” Charlotte asked as Ash drove them to the party later that week. “All week they’ve jumped out of the bushes whenever I poke my nose outside.” They’d made her feel caged.

“We’re in luck,” Ash said. “Rita Brooks, the soap star is filming a movie here. Most of the reporters are chasing her and her current boy toy while she’s staying in Auckland.”

“I wish I could shake her hand and thank her in person.” Charlotte wondered how famous people coped with the constant glare of publicity even as she experienced a wave of relief. The tension between them had dispersed with each passing day, and they seemed to be friends with benefits again.

Ash aimed a wry smile at her before pulling up for a traffic light. “Their absence does make a change.” He paused and shot her a glance before accelerating. “You realize the reporters
will
learn your name tonight.”

She shrugged, pretending the notoriety didn’t bother her. “I figured someone would spill details soon anyway. Tell me more about the party. Is there anyone I should try to impress?”

“No, be yourself and have fun. Dance with me and let me cop a feel in the dark corners.” When he pulled up at the next set of lights, he leaned over to brush a kiss on her cheek. She breathed in the clean scent of him, the aftershave she’d opened and sniffed in the bathroom when she was feeling lonely during the day. Not that she’d ever confess her silliness to him. It would make her seem tragic and clingy. Not the impression she wanted him to receive.

Instead she flashed a grin. “Funny. Will I know anyone there?”

“I doubt I’ll know half the people,” Ash said. “But I’ll introduce you to my friends. Don’t worry. You’ll have fun tonight.”

Charlotte spotted a familiar face on entering the hotel function room. Jenny. She was with a date, a man Charlotte hadn’t met before. Her stepsister wore a strapless blue gown, the perfect foil for her blonde hair. She paused when she recognized Charlotte before turning away in a pointed snub.

Her date had no such qualms. “Ash, how are you? I haven’t seen you at the gym for weeks, and I can see why.” He shot a swift glance at Charlotte. “Are you going to introduce me to Red? I’ll get to tell everyone I met her first. Jenny, come and meet the famous mystery woman.”

Ash shot Charlotte a quick look as if asking for direction. Ms. Feisty gave Charlotte a swift kick in the ribs.
Do something!
she screeched.

Charlotte winked at Ash, and his smile became more natural. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Charlotte Dixon. Jenny and I already know each other since she’s my stepsister. And your name is?”

“Jason, my dear,” he said. “I’m pleased to meet you now that Ash has let you out of his lair. Jenny, you didn’t say anything during the ride here.”

Jenny shot her the look, the one that was half stink eye and the other part promising retribution if she didn’t zip her lips. “I didn’t realize Charlotte was attending the party.”

“Excuse me, Jason. I see our host and hostess. I’d like to introduce them to Charlotte and wish them a happy anniversary.” He tucked his arm around her waist and guided her away. Lowering his head, he whispered, “Your stepsister looked as if she’d taken a bite of Snow White’s apple. Someone should tell her she’ll get premature lines if she keeps up the scowls.”

Charlotte laughed. A camera flash went off nearby, rapidly followed by another. “I don’t think I’ll ever get over their incessant need for photographs.” She hastened her pace, until the photographers were safely behind them.

“Gerard, Maria, happy anniversary,” Ash said. “I’d like you to meet my date, Charlotte Dixon.”

“Ah, the mystery Red,” Maria said in amusement and offered her hand in greeting. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Where has Ash been hiding you?” Gerard asked.

“No hiding, but I am staying with Ash for a few days.” He’d tire of her soon. She was sure of it.

“I see. You look lovely,” Maria said. “I love the way both of you have dressed tonight. Everyone will be copying the look by the end of next week. Mark my words.” She stared so hard Charlotte started to wonder if she had a wardrobe malfunction. “Have you done any modeling?”

“No.” There wasn’t much call for modeling while she’d looked after Gran.

Maria cocked her head then prowled in a circle around Charlotte. “Perfect,” she said finally. “I’m hosting a fashion parade at the Malbrook Hotel. One of my models has the flu. I don’t suppose you’re free tomorrow night and would be willing to donate some time for an Alzheimer’s fundraiser?”

“I—”

“Maria has already conned me into buying tickets,” Ash said. “I was going to give them away, but if you’re modeling, I’ll attend.”

Everyone focused on her, waiting for her reaction.

Let’s do it!
Ms. Feisty jumped up and down in strident demand, and Charlotte found herself nodding and smiling, a bit like a puppet guided by a puppeteer.

Maria seized Charlotte’s hands and squeezed. “Thank you so much. This fashion parade means a lot to me because my mother suffered from Alzheimer’s. It’s such a terrible disease.”

“I’m happy to help,” Charlotte said. “Do I need to try on outfits or something beforehand?”

“I’ll need you to come to the shop tomorrow morning. Can you manage that?”

She glanced at Ash, and after seeing his quick nod, said, “Yes, I think so.”

“I can drop you off in the morning,” Ash said. “I was going to suggest you visit Maria anyway. We have business dinners and balls on the calendar. Charlotte needs suitable outfits.”

Charlotte opened her mouth to argue, but this wasn’t the place.

“We’ll leave you to greet the rest of your guests,” Ash said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Charlotte,” Maria said. “And thank you. You’ve saved me a sleepless night. I thought I’d have to take to the catwalk myself.”

“Nice to meet you,” Charlotte said, letting Ash guide her away.

“Sorry to spring that on you,” he murmured against her ear. “I need a date at some of these events, and you make them fun. Will you let me buy you some dresses in exchange for sitting through a few boring dinners?”

“You’re a sneaky man,” Charlotte said. “Of course I’ll go with you, but you’d better let me do the cooking when we’re at home.”

“You’re going to deprive me of one of my hobbies,” Ash said.

Charlotte flapped her hand in dismissal. “I won’t let you play me every time, you know. You can buy me dresses this time, but in future I prefer to do my own shopping.”

Ash nodded. “Deal. Let’s waltz. I see a dark corner at the far end of the floor.”

“You’re impossible,” she said, but she took his hand and let him lead her toward the other dancers.

He held her close, content to feel her breasts and legs brush against his and to smell the light floral scent she wore. Charlotte fought him at every turn, so unlike the women in his past who’d accepted his gifts without a quibble.

Apart from her laptop and e-reader, she didn’t own gadgets, and she seemed to enjoy the simple things like eating fish and chips on the beach or licking an ice cream. She’d even helped him in his vegetable garden. Most of their outings consisted of free things—concerts in the park, walking around little known reserves where people didn’t bother them. He found the entire courtship of Charlotte liberating and refreshing, and the nights they lay in his bed, arms around each other, just talking were a revelation. Charlotte Dixon was a woman in a million.

“Where is this dark corner?” She leaned closer. “Did I mention I’m not wearing panties?”

His groan slipped free unbidden. “You’re a minx.” A contrast of shy and daring. Intelligence and humor. Sexiness. She was the perfect woman for him. “We have a perfectly good bed at home.” His breath caught as he heard himself—the naturalness in the way he combined them into a couple.

“You’re right,” she said with regret. “There are too many people around. The last thing I want is a photographer snapping a photo of my bare butt.”

His hand slid lower to rest on her ass. “My eyes only.”

“Did you put a Zorro tattoo there when I wasn’t looking?”

He drew back to meet her laughing gaze, unable to resist a quick taste of her lips. “I’m not telling.”

“Is Maria nice? Can I trust her not to have a photographer perched inside a cupboard?”

Ash barked out a laugh. “They’d need to watch out for her broomstick. Maria doesn’t put up with any crap. This fashion parade is her baby. She’s held it every year since her mother died, and she won’t stand for anything reeking of scandal if it might overshadow the event.”

“Good. I liked her, but I’m a bit wary of trusting my intuition.”

“You have good instincts. You hooked up with me, didn’t you?”

Charlotte pressed back against his chest. “So I did.” Her voice was muffled, and frustration tore at him. How long would it take her to realize he wanted her in his life on a permanent basis? That he’d do nothing to hurt her.

“After this dance I’ll have to speak with some acquaintances. I can introduce you to a few people, so you can chat and dance while I’m doing business.”

“Can I come with you? I like listening to you wheel and deal. You’re a shark and most of the men are too stupid to see it.”

The music finished with the band taking a break. Ash guided her off the floor, nodding at various acquaintances without stopping.