If The Shoe Fits (4 page)

He swore he saw a hint of moisture clouding
her eyes. “It’s difficult to compete with your husband’s child. She
was always his favorite—” Her voice caught. She made a sound in the
back of her throat. Her eyes cleared into two hard chips of ice.
“Do we have a deal, Mr. Royale?”

“What do you get out of it?” He wanted to
know.

“Freedom,” she nearly hissed. “This store has
been an albatross around my neck. That and my husband’s ghost
filling this store, twisting the employees’ heads to him, hoarding
their loyalty on a dead man.”

“Of course, you’ll end up a very rich woman,”
he baited, realizing the truth of the rumors he’d heard about the
store’s falling earnings over the last few quarters. If she sold it
in the near future she’d still see a tidy profit. The longer she
held on, the more the store lost, and the lower her take.

But to buy a failing store? How could he
justify it, to himself, to his granddad? Royale Enterprises, the
family business, focused on developing property, a dream full of
hope and promise. They were not in the market of taking over an
existing operation to try to shore up a quickly plummeting bottom
line.

His curiosity won out. “Why not sell it
yourself?”

“And be more of a villain than I already am?”
She recoiled. “I know what they say about me. If I’m ever to keep
my head up in this town, then I must not be the one to do all the
dirty work.”

Silently, he agreed. The society she clung to
would oust her from the fringes of their circle.

“Despite what you’ve heard, Mr. Royale, I am
a very smart woman. I intend to come out on top, the belle of the
ball, so to speak, and with a load of money to boot.”

The room grew even colder for Alex. Charlie
and the girls were just as much a commodity to this woman as the
store was. Everything had a dollar sign on it for her.

Last night he’d met Charlie, a woman who’d
made him laugh, made him step outside his comfort level. Also, she
made him think that he could find a wife who didn’t want to follow
all those strict, imposed rules and become a carbon copy society
wife who would bore him to death.

When Charlie bumped into him, she’d turned
his world upside down. And his emotions.

In less than a minute, she’d exposed his
lonely existence, sparking a need he didn’t even know he had. He
longed for more than just a marriage of convenience. He wanted a
wife, in every sense of the word.

He wanted her. But at what price?

He weighed his options and made his final
decision.

Standing up, he watched Mrs. King follow
suit. “King’s Department Store in exchange for Charlie, is that
it?”

“Exactly,” she murmured with a sly smile.

Grim determination took hold. He’d sell the
damn thing and be done with it. He held out his hand. “You have a
deal.”

Leaning against the doorframe to Charlie’s
charming little corner office with large windows and cozy window
seats beneath them, Alex could finally breathe fresh air again. The
arctic room and woman he’d just left was now replaced with warmth
and a sense of peace at seeing Charlie and her surroundings. He
watched her at her desk with her head bent over her work. She drew
something that held her rapt attention.

Tendrils of her dark hair fell forward. She
brushed them back impatiently. Her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip
as she swept the charcoal pencil over the half-filled page. He
imagined soothing that tortured flesh.

Tenderness welled up inside him.

How in the world had she survived with that
cold hearted, emotionless woman as her stepmother all these years?
But she had. And thrived, if his guess was correct from all her
laughter and high jinks of the night before and even this morning.
A well of admiration pooled inside of him. God, she was so
adorable.

The phone rang. “Can you get that, Peg?” she
asked, never taking her focus off the page. “Tell them I’m busy and
will call them back.”

Peg, he assumed, was her secretary. However,
she’d stepped away from her desk. The shrill ring sounded again. He
strolled in, snatching up her phone. She looked up. Her eyes
widened and her hand stilled.

“Hello, this is Miss King’s office.” He heard
a voice utter a sound, but didn’t let them say anything. “She’s
unable to take any calls right now. Can you please call back this
afternoon?”

“Who’s this?” a male voice asked.

Alex frowned. “Who’s this?”

“Dexter. Is Charlie there?”

He let out a slow breath. “Dexter.” He
glanced at Charlie and watched a flush creep over her cheeks. His
middle tightened. Did she have feelings for the man? Ones her
stepmother weren’t aware of?

Doubt nagged at him. Would she agree to marry
him?

Reluctantly, he held out the receiver toward
her, raising his eyebrows. She stared at the black instrument, and
then back at him. While biting her lip, she slowly shook her head.
He breathed a sigh of relief.

Maybe he had a chance.

Alex pulled the receiver back to his ear.
“She’s unavailable.” He took guilty pleasure in saying that. If he
had his way about it Charlie would be unavailable very shortly.

A muttered curse blast in his ear. A sudden
dial tone echoed.

Good-bye to you, too, he thought, and then
replaced the phone in its cradle.

“Alex!”

He liked the breathy sound of her voice, the
way it caught on his name. “Charlie,” he said softly, watching her
pupils flare with awareness. He leaned a hip on her desk.

She glanced down. “Why don’t you make
yourself comfortable?”

“Thanks, I will.” He smiled widely. Gazing at
the paper she’d been sketching on, he reached over and plucked it
up, turning it toward him. He had no idea what he’d expected, but
certainly not this. “Me?”

Red spread over her cheeks and she snatched
the drawing away from him. “It’s… ah… research. I’m thinking of
doing a fairy-tale window display.” She quickly sketched in short,
quick strokes. In a matter of seconds, she’d fashioned a
jewel-encrusted crown on his head. “Ah… who better than Prince
Charming to adorn it?”

He searched her gaze, slowly and intently.
Her caramel eyes gave nothing away. “Really?”

Shrugging, she said, “I’m the art director. I
have to come up with hundreds of ideas.”

“Ah, then you’re just the one for me,” he
said, entirely serious.

She gulped. “Really? What would you need my
ideas for? I mean, surely, you have your own people who can come up
with something.” She frowned. “And what kind of ideas are we
talking about?”

“It’s personal. A job only you can do. Have
lunch with me today and I’ll tell you.”

“But, it’s only—” she stopped, grabbed his
wrist and turned it to read the face of his gold Rolex. “Quarter to
ten.”

She pulled her hand away before he could stop
her. But the soft, velvety touch lingered on. He shook his head
slightly, trying to regain his thoughts. “I’ll send my driver,
Edward, for you at noon.” He got up and strode for the door.

“But I haven’t accepted yet,” she called
out.

He halted, turning to her with a smile and
raised eyebrow.

“Personal? Can’t you give me even a little
hint?”

“Prince Charming takes a wife,” he said,
winking at her. Her gasp of surprise followed him down the
hallway.

Charlie waited for the driver to settle into
traffic before she climbed onto the facing rich, buttery leather
seat. The glass partition was open. She leaned forward. “Limo,
huh?”

“Town car’s in the shop.”

“Edward, right?”

Smiling, he gazed in the rearview mirror. He
shifted his uniform cap slightly, and then said, “At your
service.”

Kind hazel eyes twinkled in his square face.
He had a nice wide smile, which helped ease her anxiety
somewhat.

Nudging his shoulder, she said, “So tell me
which one did he pick?”

“Ma’am?”

“Prince Charming.”

“Mr. Royale?” He chuckled, visibly relaxing.
“Is that what you call him to his face?”

“Yep. It’s the truth, isn’t it?” She caught
his knowing grin in the mirror’s reflection.

He remained quiet, so she nudged him again.
“Come on, you have to know everything that goes on. Which one did
he pick?” This was good news for the store, right? So why was she
tied up in knots?

Her stepmother had dodged her all morning.
Charlie hadn’t been privy to whatever she and Alex had discussed.
Her nerves were working overtime.

He darted a glance over his shoulder. “You
don’t know?”

“Was it Francine?” Charlie nearly cringed at
the crack in her voice. Half of her hoped it was, but the other
half prayed it wasn’t.

“That the older one?” he asked, appearing
cautious.

“It is her!” Dread pooled in her middle. How
in the world could she ever be Alex’s sister-in-law?

“Didn’t say that,” he said, hastening to
correct her.

“Priscilla? No way! She barely said five
words last night.” She chewed her bottom lip. “Unless he likes them
quiet. Is that it, he likes the quiet, shy type?”

There was no hope for her. She mentally
kicked herself. What was she thinking anyway? Alex wouldn’t be
interested in her. She wasn’t the cool, sophisticated society wife
that he obviously needed by his side.

Of course, she wasn’t even interested in
marriage.

And then there was Dex… A twinge of guilt
shot through her. She’d barely thought of her friend since she’d
left his lab late yesterday and after he’d called earlier. Deep
down, she sensed his feelings were more involved, more than two
friends sharing their passion for work and saving the store.

“Ma’am, you’re jumping to conclusions
now.”

Another thought struck her. “Well, if it’s
Stepmother, I think you ought to have the man committed.”

“I’d drive him there myself and make sure he
doesn’t come out for a long, long time.”

They both laughed at that. Charlie now knew
that Alex had to have told Edward at least some of the details of
the King family. Just how much she couldn’t be sure.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you,
Edward?”

“No, ma’am.”

She sighed. “In spite of it, I still like
you.” That gave her another idea. “Hey, are you available?”

“For you?” His voice sounded puzzled.

“Not me, silly,” she said, lightly swatting
him on the shoulder. “My friend, Dolly.”

Twenty minutes later, after having extolled
Dolly’s virtues to the interested man, he pulled into the
marina.

“Fishing? Is that his idea of lunch?” she
muttered under her breath.

Edward must have heard; he chuckled as he
came around the car to open her door.

The warm balmy lake breeze caressed her face
as she stepped out into the sunlight. Closing her eyes, she
breathed in deeply, smelling the tangy air. She murmured her
approval.

“Like it?” Alex’s question tugged her out of
her reverie.

Opening her eyes, she followed his voice. He
stood on the pier with his hands on his hips, wearing worn tight
jeans and a low-buttoned white shirt. She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Yes, I like it very much.” She skipped the details on just exactly
what she liked.

His driver helped her negotiate the parking
area and the wooden planks of the pier. “Thanks, Edward.” She gazed
behind Alex at the tall, gallant white vessel. Looking at him
again, she said, “My, what a big boat you have, Mr. Royale.”

His easy grin slid across his face. Alex
waited at the bottom of the stairs. He bowed, and then raised a
hand to the hulking ship. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

She giggled, liking his playful manner. He
wasn’t the stuck-up businessman she’d assumed he was.

Holding out a hand, he guided her down to his
level.

She stepped in close, bumping him slightly.
“Oops,” she said, looking up into his twinkling brown eyes. Trying
to step back, she felt his hands hold her waist lightly.

For long, silent minutes he gazed down at
her. The intense stare mesmerized Charlie. Finally, she broke the
heated contact only to end up glancing at his lips. They were
moving, saying something, but she couldn’t be certain what since
all the blood had rushed to her ears.

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t
understand.”

“You will. In time,” he whispered back.

Slowly, he released her, and Charlie wasn’t
sure if her shaky legs would cooperate and move. But he helped her
down the last of the pier and up into the awaiting yacht.

Gleaming blonde wood and the soft lap of
water hitting the side of the vessel greeted her. Within minutes,
he introduced her to the crew and asked if she’d like a tour.

Looking down at her feet, he said, “You may
want to trade those in. Heels aren’t exactly the best form of
transportation on a moving yacht.”

She followed his gaze, and then looked at his
bare feet. “What is it with you and the shoes, anyway?” she asked.
Gingerly, she slipped out of her heels. She carefully rolled down
her thigh high stockings, highly aware of his intent stare and low
murmur of approval. “Ta-dah,” she said, pulling the stockings free
and whisking them through her hands to straighten them.

“Here, let me,” he said, holding out his
hand.

With a shrug, she handed them over and
watched as he tucked them into his shirt pocket, part of the nylon
poking out.

She grinned. “Nice touch.”

“Like it? It’s the latest fashion trend.”

They both chuckled. He held out his hand. “My
lady…”

She smiled widely, slipping her hand in his
large, warm grasp.

As they made their way through the cabins
below, Charlie couldn’t help but ooh and aah over the rich,
mahogany wood, gold outfittings, and plush furnishings. Mr.
Alexander Royale was definitely living large.