Ain't Misbehaving (23 page)

“They’re curious about me,” she whispered into his ear.

A now familiar quake rippled through him, one he was becoming used to while in Charlotte’s proximity. All she needed to do was touch him, glance his way and lust swelled in him. The strange thing was she didn’t even suspect the sway she held over him—the power to inflict pain.

“Let them be curious,” he said lightly, shoving away his ruffled thoughts. She wouldn’t hurt him on purpose. He knew it with the same certainty he knew they’d appear in tomorrow’s paper. “They’re used to seeing me with a different woman at each event I attend. I’m behaving out of character and everyone is wondering what this means.”

“Maybe you should date someone else and throw them off the track.”

Aha!
“So you think there might be a scent to our game?”

“I said I liked you.”

Like was such a wishy-washy word. He wanted love, and his subtle herding of her toward acceptance of the idea was driving him to impatience. “The men I want to chat with are at the bar.”

Ash guided her in that direction, using the excuse to place a hand at the small of her back. She looked beautiful tonight in her simple apricot gown and her red hair worn in some sort of an updo. The style suited her, but he preferred her braid or when she left her hair loose to swirl around her shoulders. Long golden earrings swung from her ears, catching the light while subtle makeup highlighted her features. He witnessed the interest in his business friends as he and Charlotte approached and scowled inwardly at their subtle measuring of her assets.

“Ash,” a man from a rival advertising company said. “Introduce us to your charming companion.”

Charlotte took Ash’s arm and pride built in him at the understated way she made it clear they were together. Ash made the introductions and soon the men were chatting about various functions they had attended and the upcoming design awards.

“You must be finding this very boring,” one of the men said, his cheeks red from excess alcohol.

“Not at all,” Charlotte said. “I’m doing freelance design work for Ash and find the advertising business fascinating. I hope to learn as much as I can and increase my experience in the field.”

“What campaigns have you worked on?” The man cocked his head, losing some of his indulgent air.

“I don’t have much experience,” she said. “Only one campaign behind me for a local bakery, but Ash is mentoring me.”

“Lucky Ash,” the man drawled.

“I think I’m the lucky one,” Charlotte said. “What ad campaigns have you worked on?”

The expression on the man’s face made Ash want to roar with laughter. His business rival thought everyone knew him, knew of the work he’d done over the years, but with a few artless words Charlotte punctured his ego. Ash could literally hear the air escaping through the holes in his rival’s self-esteem.

But the man didn’t take offence, and Ash felt free to pursue his business enquiries once he heard his acquaintance answering Charlotte’s questions about some of the more technical aspects of one of his famous ad campaigns for a running shoe.

Three hours later, they left the party, and Ash knew he was the envy of his friends and business acquaintances. Charlotte had made an impact with her stunning simplicity of dress and her intelligent conversation, and he was certain his male friends were wondering if the fire in her hair equaled a passionate nature. He was a lucky man and clever enough to realize he and Charlotte belonged together. He’d keep trying to convince her.

* * * * *

Charlotte squeezed into a corner of the dressing room, trying to keep out of the frantic chaos of dressers and other models. Feminine voices cajoled, bossed and one sharp voice on her left edged sharply toward a tantrum. She felt like a sparrow again, thrust into a nest full of skinny cuckoos. Why had Maria picked her for a replacement? Her heart hammered with apprehension, her mind spinning circles. She scanned the crowded room. Although she’d never considered herself fat, she wasn’t model skinny.

This was for charity. Too late to change her mind now. Biting her bottom lip, she changed into her first outfit, lifting the gown over her head and taking care not to get any makeup on the scarlet fabric. The dress should have clashed wildly with her hair, but it was the perfect foil and made her hair appear darker.

“Want me to zip you up?” the brunette woman beside her asked.

“Please.”

Cool hands worked the zipper up and flicked the fabric of the dress in place. “You’re Ash’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Charlotte blinked at her instant reply. She hadn’t hesitated and that worried her. She was becoming too comfortable in Ash’s world.

“I went out with Ash twice,” the woman said. “He’s a lovely guy, but he doesn’t date the same woman for long.”

Charlotte weighed the woman’s expression and relaxed. She wasn’t being bitchy, although her words could be construed as a warning. “So I hear. How did you cope with the press popping out of the bushes?”

The woman laughed and turned to present her back. “Are all the buttons fastened? I tried to do up most of them before I wriggled into the dress. I think there’s more interest in you because you’ve lasted so long. And then there’s the fact that you’re living with Ash. That hasn’t happened before.”

Charlotte ignored the silent question. “No, you’re good. How many outfits are you modeling?”

“Three. You?”

“Four. Maria suckered me into wearing the wedding gown. I couldn’t say no by the time she’d finished with me.” Her appearance in the white lacy confection was going to cause a kafuffle. She just knew it. Her life was out of control. She was dating a man who attracted public scrutiny. He resided in her thoughts way too often, and the barricades protecting her heart were in danger of crumbling. On the positive side, her freelance work was going well and her social life had amped up several levels since meeting Ash.

Her thoughts slid to Gran and Elizabeth, and she almost smiled. Elizabeth would hate every moment of her success.

“Girls!” Maria clapped her hands and the changing room fell silent. “I want to thank you for donating your time to this event. You know what to do since we ironed out the problems at rehearsal. I want you to go out there and have fun. Do me proud.” She paused, cocking her head as a blast of music came from the other side of the curtain. “That’s my cue. Line up while I’m doing the introductions. Remember to smile. Flirt with the audience and sell these outfits.”

Once Maria walked onto the stage, the hum of anticipation behind stage ratcheted sharply upward. Nerves swirled inside Charlotte’s belly, making her glad she’d declined an early dinner. She took her place in the line—second to last—and waited, recalling Ash’s words of encouragement.
If you get nervous, pretend I’m the only one in the room and show off the gowns to me.

Maria finished her words of welcome. The music started and it was show time. One by one the models strode through the curtains and along the catwalk before returning to make a rapid garment change.

Charlotte sucked in large breaths, her hands curled to fists. Then it was her turn. She inhaled, exhaled, then pinned on a toothy smile and strode onto the catwalk. There were so many people, rows and rows of faces.
They’re here to see the gowns.
She searched for familiar profiles and found Elizabeth. Her stepmother wore surprise, and this swiftly converted to a disapproving mask. Ms. Feisty took over at that point and Charlotte surrendered to her. She slowed to a saunter and waved at Elizabeth. Next, she flashed a smile at one of the men she’d met earlier in the week and winked at Ash when she located him. The last of her lingering nerves faded as he returned her wink.

You’re a goner
, Ms. Feisty said with an inner cheer.

Charlotte feared she was right. Somehow Ash had wriggled past the boundaries she’d set around her heart.
This can’t last
, she reminded herself.
Don’t get too attached.

“Hey, Red,” someone shouted.

She automatically turned toward the voice, flashing a smile. A camera light exploded, she pivoted and resumed her saunter along the catwalk, making sure she did the gown justice. When she passed Ash again, she waved. Several people in the front row snapped photos.

With a final cocked hip and a twirl, she was through the curtain and backstage. A volunteer helped her with a rapid-fire change into a denim mini skirt and a skimpy pale blue T-shirt with strategic gashes.

“Just as well nerves are keeping me warm,” Charlotte said.

“You look great,” the volunteer said. “You have a beautiful figure.”

Flaunt it
, Ms. Feisty instructed when Charlotte stepped onto the stage for her second turn. Charlotte strutted to the flirty music, grinning at Ash. He laughed and shook his head. She pouted and pretended she was angry at him while her stupid heart fluttered. She
really
liked him. The realization knocked hard at her equilibrium.
What do you expect? He’s male chocolate, and you know how we love chocolate
, Ms. Feisty purred.

Charlotte modeled the last of her street outfits and then it was time for the wedding gown, a strapless confection with billowing white skirts and a lacy veil.

“Beautiful.” Maria twitched the veil into place. “Simply stunning. The audience will love you.”

The other models stood around in their final outfits, waiting for the end parade.

“Ash is gonna swallow his tongue when he sees you,” someone said.

Everyone else murmured agreement.

“I’m as jealous as hell,” a pretty blonde said. “You look gorgeous.”

“Virginal yet sexy,” a skinny brunette agreed.

“Are you ready?” Maria asked.

Charlotte took one final calming breath and nodded. The music changed to the traditional wedding march, and she stepped onto the catwalk. A collective sign went through the audience as she walked serenely down the catwalk, merely smiling and letting the gown take center stage.

As she reached Ash, his sexy smile faded a fraction. They stared at each other, and in that moment she knew. Her feelings were returned. Her heart swelled, and she swallowed at the sudden lump in her throat. With a misty smile, she blew him a kiss.

And that was when the cameras and the crowd went crazy. They startled her from her dreamlike state. She forced herself to walk the length of the catwalk when she craved the safety of his arms.

When Charlotte reached the curtain, Maria made a
go back
motion with her hands. So she did, this time her smile tremulous while uncertainty and a trace of panic wriggled around inside her.

“When are you getting married?” a young woman shouted.

Everyone who heard laughed, but the suggestion propelled Charlotte’s stomach into the beginnings of queasiness. She noticed Ash speaking to the woman sitting beside him, their heads close together in intimacy.
Punch her in the nose!
Ms. Feisty ordered.

Of course, Charlotte didn’t do anything of the sort, and merely continued her walk down the catwalk, working to keep her smile tacked in place. Ash wasn’t doing anything wrong. But seeing him chatting with another woman made her mind rush with apprehension. What if Ash did change his mind about her? Maybe she should make a move for independence soon.

Just in case.

Chapter Twelve

The click of the cameras continued, and Charlotte smiled until her jaw ached. It was half an hour before the models left the catwalk.

Maria was delirious with excitement. “A success,” she kept saying. “The best show ever.”

Charlotte traipsed back into the changing rooms, glad to don normal clothes again. Maria had asked the models to mingle after the show and stay for refreshments. On exiting, the first person Charlotte glimpsed was Ash. He grinned widely and held out his arms. Forcing her doubts aside, she hurried into his embrace.

See
, Ms. Feisty said with a trace of smugness.
I know what is best for us.
Charlotte wasn’t so sure. She stiffened, and Ash’s brows rose.

“A bit overwhelmed,” she whispered.

“You’re a star,” Ash said, kissing her cheek.

A female reporter tapped her on the shoulder. “Can we do an interview?”

“No, sorry,” Charlotte said. “If you want an interview, you’ll need to speak with Maria.”

“No, I want to talk to you about your relationship with Mr. Marlborough.”

“I don’t do interviews,” Charlotte said, smiling to mute her blunt words. “My private life is confidential.”

“Would you like a drink?” Ash asked.

“A glass of Champagne sounds lovely,” she said, and they sauntered away, leaving the reporter frowning after them.

“How did I do? Hit me with the truth,” she said.

“I wanted to jump onto the catwalk and carry you away so the other men couldn’t ogle you or take photos with their camera phones. I didn’t realize my jealous streak was so wide,” he said with a wry smile.

“It’s the same way I feel when women eat you up with their eyes.”
Yep, that brings on the self-doubt
, Ms. Feisty muttered.

“My bank balance, you mean.” Ash grabbed two glasses of Champagne from a passing waiter. “Some women can’t see past my scars. It frightens them, but when they hear I have buckets of money, they develop tunnel vision.”

“Someone hurt you,” she said.

“We all have scars. Mine are more visible than most.” He shrugged aside his past with his usual good humor, but Charlotte imagined he’d suffered during his childhood and teenage years. She admired him so much and would like to meet his father, the man responsible for his positive attitude.

Charlotte glanced at two elderly women who were listening to their conversation. “Walk with me through the hotel. I could do with a breath of air.”

When they reached the reception area, they sat on one of the squishy settees.

She reached for one of his hands. “Tell me about the woman who was horrid to you.”

“It was nothing,” he said. “I’d made my first million and asked my girlfriend to marry me. She said yes, but I soon discovered my money was the attraction. We argued, and she sold a story to the magazines a few weeks later saying she couldn’t live with someone who resembled a beast. That’s where the nickname originated.”