Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller) (6 page)

“Do you have a drinking problem?”

“No. Between Charlie and Shelly, I’m a pretty sober fellow.”

Damian sat down in one of the director’s chairs. “Where would Charlie go with my car?”

He followed Erik’s gaze to the Sunday Record on the table. Small scraps of paper left over from where she’d cut out advertisements were piled neatly on top of the rest of the newspaper. .“Double coupons at the market today,” Erik said.

“She needs money, doesn’t she?”

“Don’t offer it to her if you value your vital organs. I’m surprised she even borrowed your car. Sunday donuts and an occasional pizza are all she’ll accept from anyone, even though we use her apartment to study.”

He shook his head. “What’s going on with her? She scared the hell out of me last night. I felt like Jack the Ripper. It was as if she had no idea who I was for a few minutes and she was terrified. That’s why I didn’t leave.”

“Did you try something with her?” Accusation rang in Erik’s angry voice.

“Of course not” Damian expelled a heavy breath. Apparently his brother thought him one step lower than sludge. “What happened to her?”

“Ask her.”

“I did. She wouldn’t talk about it”

“No. I don’t imagine she would. She never told me either. She has no idea that I know. What do you think happened to her?”

Damian lifted his shoulders. “I would guess that she has been sexually assaulted.”

“Damned close. Suffice it to say that a foster father tried to take more than a paternal interest in her. When she reported the incident to the authorities, the charge was dismissed as a lie from an emotionally disturbed teenager. She was transferred to an orphanage for troubled girls. I guess she was lucky that it wasn’t worse, but such a devastating betrayal when she was only fifteen years old must have scarred her deeply.”

“I could see where that would leave scars.”

“Charlie isn’t someone you can have a fling with and move on. She’s hurt and scared. It would take a lot of time and work to even get her to trust you. Time you never seem to have to invest in a relationship that might never be more than friendship.”

Slighted by Erik’s charges, he sprang from his seat. “What makes you think I’m not capable of something like that?”

“What was the name of the last woman you dated for more than a month?”

“What?”

“I’ll bet you can’t remember.”

He dismissed the comparison with an angry grunt. His relationships in the past had no bearing on what he felt for Charlie. Hell, in the past, he had never felt anything at all. How ironic that the first woman to fully gain his attention apparently had no interest in him. If he had a sense of humor, he would laugh. “This is different.”

“I hope so. Charlie is very special to me and I don’t want to see her hurt again. Particularly by someone I love.”

“And what has Mother got to do with this? Why is she so adamant that I find a way to end your friendship with Charlie?”

“She said that?” Erik asked. “Don’t even try. If that’s what this is all about then you can leave right now.”

“Relax. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on.”

“You’ll have to ask Mother.”

“I’m asking you.”

“I can’t tell you.” Erik stood up and headed toward the door. “I’m going to find Shelly. Should I bring you a change of clothing from the dorm?”

He glanced down at his wrinkled shirt and pants. “Yes. Please. But nothing in red.”

“Dull, boring, stuffy, square . . . Erik’s joking insults trailed off as he walked out of the apartment.

* * * *

Charlie glanced at the dashboard clock and gasped. Ten o’clock? She’d been out since seven in the morning with Damian’s car. He’d probably reported it stolen. She’d only meant to make a quick run to the market for her monthly shopping.

Once she’d hit the highway, she cruised past the store and kept right on driving. The comfort of the luxury car on the open road could tempt a saint. She’d finally gotten to her shopping at a supermarket well outside the county line.

What the heck, she thought. The worst he could do was yell. She was so used to being screamed to across a crowded bar that she wouldn’t even notice. If he hadn’t wanted her to borrow the car, he shouldn’t have left the keys on the coffee table. It was entrapment.

Fifteen minutes later she returned home. Balancing the three grocery bags in her arms, she made her way to the apartment As she tried to insert the key in the lock, the door opened.

“Oh, no.” Waiting by the front door was not a good sign. She dumped the packages into Damian’s hands. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

Before entering, she hovered in the doorway to gage his reaction. She wasn’t dumb enough to lock herself in an apartment with someone who might do her harm.

He placed the bags on the kitchen counter. “Dogs get mad; people get angry.”

“Are you foaming at the mouth?”

“It’s only a car.”

“A car!” she exclaimed, rising to the defense of his luxury sedan. “It’s like floating on a cloud. Do you have any idea how fast that baby can ... of course I never took it over thirty miles an hour,” she amended too late.

Damian laughed and waved an accusing finger at her. “Don’t lie to me, Charlotte. I’ll bet you didn’t have it doing under fifty the entire time.”

She shrugged. “I was on a highway. I had to go with the flow of traffic.”

“Were you driving on the Indiana Speedway?”

She walked into the apartment and closed the door. Judging by his light tone, he wasn’t upset. “Close enough. The New Jersey Turnpike. I didn’t plan to go that far. It just sort of happened.”

She unloaded the packages onto the counter and began putting the canned goods away. Damian watched, noticing that she purchased mostly generic brands. He’d grown up so spoiled that he couldn’t imagine what it was like to have to worry about the cost of food.

“Don’t you buy any meat?”

“Sure. But I’ll probably overdose on shrimp before I have to buy meat again. I didn’t think you would take me so literally last night when you ordered all that stuff. It was a joke.”

“I’m sure Erik has told you that I have no sense of humor. I believe his words were stuffy, dull, boring ...”

“Starchy, unbending inflexible, workaholic,” she finished for him. “But he loves you anyway.”

“He must have forgotten those four charming adjectives when he stopped by with his girlfriend this morning.”

She leaned back against the counter and sighed. “Erik was here? I forgot to call him.”

“Warn him, you mean?” Unfortunately, Charlie had him at a huge disadvantage. She knew all about him, but until two days ago he hadn’t even known she was a woman.

“It’s the same thing. I guess you know about Shelly then?”

Damian nodded. “It’s a good thing I did stay last night. I learned that my brother and I are strangers.”

“Only if you want it to be that way. He’s nothing like you, but that isn’t necessarily bad if you’re willing to accept it.”

“He’s my brother, Charlie. I don’t want him to be unhappy. Working in corporate insurance isn’t for everyone. I guess he inherited his father’s sensitivity.”

A jar cracked against the kitchen floor. Charlie stared at the spray of grape jelly and glass fragments for several seconds, seemingly unable to comprehend what had happened.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. “Where’s the broom?”

“In the closet by the front door.” She shook her head to clear the haze and realized what she’d done. “I’ll take care of it”

“Stay where you are.”

He retrieved the broom and dustpan from the closet and helpfully swept up the mess. Charlie cringed. Evidently cleaning was not his forte. By the time he’d finished, her broom was ruined.

“Don’t put it back in the closet with jelly all over it. I’ll have ants picnicking in here for the next month.”

“What happened?”

“It slipped out of my hand.” What could she tell him? Apparently, Damian had a high opinion of his stepfather. An opinion she didn’t come close to sharing. How much sensitivity had Peter Lawson possessed if he had been able to desert his pregnant girlfriend?

“Why are you so pale?”

“I haven’t been out in the sun much this year.”

“I don’t think that’s it”

“I was frightened when the jar hit the floor. Loud noises scare me.” The lies were coming easier each time. He even bought that one.

“Go sit down. I’ll make us some coffee.” He placed his arm around her shoulder and tried to ease her out of the kitchen area.

Her hip brushed lightly against his thigh. Instead of the irrational panic she expected to follow, slow warmth spread through her, growing hotter by the second. The new sensation both excited and frightened her. Bewildered by the conflicting emotions, she backed away. “I’ll make the coffee. You go take a seat.”

“Are you afraid of me, Charlie?”

“No.” Her swift denial came before she paused to consider the question. Was she afraid of Damian? Certainly her reaction to his touch knocked her off balance, but that wasn’t what he meant.

A slight arch of his eyebrow told her he didn’t believe her. “Come on. There are donuts on the table over there. Erik will be here soon, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Do you plan to stay here all day while we study for exams?”

He followed her into the living room and sat next to her on the sofa. “I might be able to help. I did go to college once, you know.”

“And how much do you know about prehistoric man?”

“Is that your major?”

Charlie took a chocolate donut from the box and offered it to Damian. “No. Erik was taking it and I thought it would be a fun elective to balance all the math and business courses. It turned out to be the hardest of them all.”

“It serves you right. There are no free lunches in the real world.”

“A corporate philosophy if ever I heard one.” She threw her hands up to emphasize her point and caught Damian’s arm as he went to take a bite of the donut.

She glanced up to apologize, but the words died on her lips as she went into a fit of laughter. Chocolate fudge was smeared all over his mouth and nose. He looked absolutely stunned.

“I guess four years at Harvard never prepared you for this type of dilemma,” she giggled.

His fingers clenched tightly around the sticky donut in his hand. “You think this is funny?”

She pursed her lips to trap a small giggle. “No. No. Of course it’s not funny. It’s a tragedy . . . for the donut.”

With a flip of his wrist, he tossed the chocolate mess back in the box. He slipped an arm across her shoulder to hold her still while he wiped his fingers across her cheek. “Now it’s funny.”

Normally the intimate embrace would frighten her, but it was impossible to feel threatened by a man who looked like a five-year-old after an icing binge. She stared up into his green eyes and smiled. “You look ridiculous.”

“You look delicious. But let’s wash this off before Erik returns or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

She used one finger to remove a bit of fudge from his cheek and tasted the sweetness. “And waste all this good chocolate?”

Damian raised his eyebrow suggestively. “Have you got a better idea of how to get it off?”

Her cheeks burned and she turned away. “No.”

“I didn’t think so, but it was worth a shot. Maybe someday . . .”

“Maybe,” she said as she sprang from the couch. Maybe? Was she out of her mind? That she would consider getting involved with Damian was ludicrous. They could never have a future.

She locked herself in the bathroom to wash her face. No matter how she scrubbed, she couldn’t wash away the traitorous emotions waging war in her head. Don’t trust him, he's Monica Lawson’s son, she reminded herself. But so is Erik, a small voice nagged back.

After Damian left today, she probably wouldn’t see him again, anyway. So why did that bother her? She didn’t need anyone. Of that she was certain.

* * * *

Despite her confusion, Charlie enjoyed the afternoon of studying . . . and Damian’s presence. However, as the day progressed, she began to feel tired and prayed that her lack of sleep the night before was responsible. She’d been attending classes, working, and studying for so many hours a day, she was running herself down. With less than a month until graduation, she couldn’t afford to get sick.

She tried to concentrate on the notes and books spread out across the coffee table, but her weary eyelids closed far too often. The room felt stifling, even with the windows opened.

“Charlie. When and where was the first discovery of Neanderthal man?” Erik questioned from the textbooks in front of him.

“Friday night at the bar when your brother walked in?” she muttered. Her small joke got a good laugh but she was too exhausted to appreciate it. She slumped back in the sofa and wrapped her arms around her body.