by Donna Alward
He kissed the top of her head. “I know. Sorry if making a joke wasn’t appropriate.”
She shrugged. “We left inappropriate behind a long time ago, didn’t we?”
He sighed. “Yeah. I guess we did.”
“We should probably talk about what happens now, though.” She expected his muscles to tense, but he stayed relaxed against her. “I mean first off, one of us needs to go to the drugstore today and get protection.”
He laughed, his chest rising and falling abruptly. “Damn, Charlie, that was not what I expected you to say.”
She loved the sound of his laugh, the way it rumbled up through his chest. “Well, we’re here until Saturday. And I don’t think it’s realistic to think we won’t be doing this again.”
“Fair.” His hand trailed over her arm. “There’s no denying we have chemistry.”
Chemistry, she thought, but not love. Then again, they had known each other just under a week. Love would be impossible. And a lie, too, wouldn’t it? No one fell in love that quickly.
She thought of her brother, William, and his fiancé, Gabi. Well, maybe. But they were definitely the exception.
“Right,” she finally answered. “But after that...”
“I go back to London and my job, and you go back to Paris, and we look back at this as a very interesting week in our histories.”
He was so right, and it was exactly what she had been planning to say, so why did she feel so deflated?
She was quiet for so long that he nudged her with his arm. “Does that disappoint you?”
“Yes. And I don’t know why, because it was what I was thinking, too. It’s for the best, right?”
He shifted so he was on his side, facing her. She could barely make out his features in the dark; the curtains in the window let in very little of the city lights and his face was wrapped in gray shadows. “Charlotte, I’m not made for relationships, and I don’t belong in your world. You should know that before you decide if things go any further between us this week. It’s not fair for me to give you any hope if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“I’m not!” She rose up on one elbow, her feelings crowding around her, confusing. “God, maybe it’s just the craziness of this week jumbling everything up. I knew last night that this would be a no-strings thing. I went into it with my eyes open. But so much has happened... Maybe I’m more of a mess than I realized.”
“You’re talking to the champ on that one.”
“No doubt.”
But she didn’t press. Didn’t want to. It wasn’t a stretch to believe that he had his own demons to vanquish.
He waited a few moments, then put his hand, so warm and comforting, on her hip. “This thing with Amelie... It’s affected you deeply.”
She nodded. “Very.” Dare she share with him, even though she didn’t expect the same in return? Perhaps it was safe this way. She trusted him, and when they went their own ways it wouldn’t matter, would it? Plus it would be so good to unload a little without fear of burdening family.
“I have betrayal issues. Or rather, I question people’s motives. It’s what happens when you grow up as we all did. People always want something, even if it’s just to be in the same picture frame with you. They want a job or a perk or to be your BFF. They make you believe they really care for you when really, they’re just using you to lift their own profile. It’s hard to believe people are genuine.”
“I never thought you might be a cynic.” His thumb rubbed circles on her hip and it felt heavenly. “But I guess I can see that. Mark What’s-His-Name being a prime example.”
“Exactly. I am the daughter of an earl, and now my brother is an earl. That alone put us in certain circles. But then, with the success of Aurora, it’s a whole other plane of celebrity. I’m not complaining. It’s such a first-world problem to have, really. But after being burned a few times, I’m careful who I trust.”
“Burned?”
“A few friends when I was younger. And...a couple of boyfriends.” The sting was still present. “I wasn’t in love with them, but I liked them a lot. And then, yes, Mark. My track record is not great, so lately I’ve just...given up.”
“And have been lonely.”
Her breath caught. “Yes.”
“Which is why this thing with Amelie is so hard.”
“Exactly.”
“And yet you trust me.”
She thought about that for a few moments. “There’s nothing you can possibly want from me now. We’re too different. We live utterly different lives from each other. And if I can’t trust someone who is hired to protect people for a living, then I might as well give up altogether. Your whole career is based on trust.”
Though he didn’t move, she felt as if he somehow withdrew after that last sentence. She reached over and smoothed her thumb over his cheekbone. “I said something wrong, didn’t I?”
“Of course not.”
“No, I did. You pulled away just now. Mentally. You don’t have to tell me. I’m just sorry. I didn’t mean to say anything to upset you.”
* * *
Jacob’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He’d never wanted to tell anyone about Jacinta before, but he felt as if strong-but-gentle Charlotte might understand. A rock of regret settled in his stomach as he spoke. “You said my career is based on trust. You’ve never been more right. As an SAS team member, and as a security company, trust is paramount. It’s just that once I broke one of the rules. It’s a hard thing to get past. I’m not sure I ever will. Or if I should.”
“No one’s perfect, Jacob. It’s unrealistic to expect it of yourself.”
“But when someone like me isn’t perfect, people can die.” The words sounded strangled, as if they were having a hard time coming out of his mouth. “People have died.” Grief welled up in him, feelings he kept trying to move past but never quite succeeding.
She stilled. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t talk about it.”
She began moving her thumb again, and the soft, circular motion began to relax him the tiniest bit. He’d gone so tense beside her, his muscles bunched tightly, his jaw clenched. This was what he resisted, always. Someone feeling sorry for him, when he didn’t deserve it. And then the revulsion when they inevitably realized his irresponsibility had caused a death. Sex with Charlotte was one thing. This shared-intimacy thing, though... It was too much. He shifted and went to get out of the bed when she stopped him with a firm grip on his arm.
“Maybe you should,” she advised gently, “with someone who has no stake in it. With someone who is willing to listen without judgment. I can tell it’s eating you up inside.”
He sat back, bracing his back against the headboard. “That’s just the thing, though. If I open up to you, you will judge me. I don’t know how you couldn’t.”
“So you’ve never talked about this with anyone?”
Her question was met with silence.
“But that’s not good for you. Having it fester all this time.” She sat up beside him, faced him and arranged the bedding so she was covered. “Jacob, this whole week you’ve been my safe space. Let me be yours.”
It was such a tempting offer. He hadn’t leaned on anyone in so long. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it with his dad, and he’d lost touch with a lot of guys from the Special Forces community. The ones he hired as security experts... Well, they didn’t dig into each other’s business. “It’s not easy for me.”
“I know it’s not. But you should share it with someone.”
He hesitated a long time, unsure of what to do. The desire to finally talk about it pressed against him, though fear and revulsion held him back. He could still see it all in his mind like it was yesterday. Hear it. Smell it. His mouth tasted bitter and he swallowed, hoping to rid his tongue of the taste. It didn’t work.
But Charlotte
had his hands in hers and he let out a breath. “It was a while ago, just before I left the military. Our team was on an assignment in South America... I can’t say where. But we were there for a while. Long enough that we’d established some informants from within the locals.”
“There was a lot of danger?”
“There’s always the potential of it, yeah. I was there to do a job. But then I met Jacinta.”
He couldn’t even say her name without feeling waves of love, regret, self-loathing.
“What happened to her?”
He had been staring straight ahead, but forced himself to meet her gaze. Even in the dim light, he saw compassion and acceptance and wondered how on earth he’d ended up sharing a week with an angel. That’s what she was, really. Take away the money and the fancy clothes, and the powerful friends... She was still a sweet, loving, strong person. Certainly not the princess he’d thought he’d be babysitting.
“It’s okay if you can’t,” she whispered, squeezing his fingers. “You’re under no obligation to tell me. I don’t want to hurt you, Jacob.”
Was she even real?
“I let myself get distracted,” he said. “I forgot to do my job. And it got her killed.”
The familiar emptiness opened up inside him, and to his shame tears stung the backs of his eyes. He’d held Jacinta’s limp body in his arms, nearly lost his mind at the sight of her wounds and lifeless eyes.
“She loved you, too?”
He nodded. Jacinta had loved him, he was in no doubt of that. “I was so stupid. Promised her I’d take her back with us. Everything I knew better than to do.” He rested his head against the headboard. “I put our whole team at risk, too. That’s when I knew I’d had enough. It was time for me to retire. I had her death on my hands. I didn’t want to have anyone else’s.”
She was quiet for a long time, and his confession settled around them. “But then you went into private security.”
He nodded. “It’s my skill set. I’m good at it. Some of the guys... They like the longer assignments. But I can do anything from a few hours to a few weeks. And to be honest, right or not, most of my clientele are middle-aged to old men.”
She snorted. “Long live the patriarchy.”
He chuckled then. “I love your sass, you know that?”
“I’m glad.”
He reached out and pulled her close. “Charlie, I’ve never told anyone all that. How I cared for her and how I lost my edge. I’m trusting you to keep my confidence.”
“Of course I will.” Her fingers threaded with his now. “Jacob, at some point you’re going to have to forgive yourself. You can’t punish yourself for the rest of your life.”
“Can’t I?” He certainly deserved no better.
“You absolutely can, you’re right. But it’s no way to live. You deserve some happiness.”
The bitter taste was back. “I’m pretty sure I don’t. After all, Jacinta will never be happy. Her family will always miss her. What right do I have to be happy?”
“But you can’t go on that way!” She rose to her knees and moved closer, then surprised him by grabbing his face with both hands. “If she loved you she would want you to go on and be happy. Not live in a constant state of guilt.” She kissed his forehead, and his heart lurched. “You can’t set an impossible expectation for yourself and then hate yourself for not reaching it. No one can attain perfection. Everyone in the world has some regret. And yeah, maybe yours is a big one. But God, Jacob. You’re redeemable. Why can’t you see that?”
He didn’t know what to say. No one in his life had ever taken his side like this before, ever championed him unconditionally even knowing what he’d done. He was speechless for a few minutes, while she kissed his forehead again and ran her fingers through his hair.
It felt so good, her touch. It had been a long time since he’d had this kind of connection with anyone, and it scared the hell out of him even as it felt amazing. It felt like...hope. But he didn’t want hope, did he? Especially when it was such a seductive feeling. Hope existed for only a short time and then it was quashed. He wasn’t sure he’d make it through another death of hope again.
And yet... Charlotte. Charlie. He should send her to her room right now and make sure this never happened again. Instead his starved soul reached out to her and clung, wanting just a few more minutes of false salvation.
Her lips went to his mouth again and he tasted her, hungry for more of her pureness, her undaunted optimism. She kissed him back, fully, completely, her warm, soft body curling against his. They shouldn’t make love again, not without protection. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t pleasure her, make sure she felt desired and cherished and, hell, satisfied.
When she called out his name in the dark, he knew he was in trouble. He’d care about it later.
* * *
Charlotte promised herself she wasn’t going to look at Jacob any differently after the late-night confessions, but she couldn’t help it. She’d bet anything that he hadn’t realized there’d been tears on his cheeks when he’d told her about Jacinta. That he’d trusted her with such a traumatic secret was monumental. And yet, as she set about making coffee, she knew that their relationship—what there was of it—was going to be short-lived. Even if their lives weren’t completely different, Jacob was not in any way ready for a relationship. For one, she was sure he still loved this Jacinta woman. Her death and his self-blame assured that there wouldn’t be room for anyone else until he found a way to put it in the past.
She poured water over the grounds in the press and sighed. The kicker was that she wouldn’t care for him as much if he were different. His pain showed a depth of feeling she couldn’t ever remember seeing in any other man, other than her father. Her throat tightened. After having her heart broken, it had been her father, Cedric, who had dried her tears and then given her the support to stand tall again. Oh, how she missed him. Perhaps this week hadn’t just been about Fashion Week. It had also been the result of years and months of stress—to live up to her father’s faith in her, to do right by the business. What would Cedric say now?
He’d tell her to give herself a break, she realized, and could almost hear his voice in her head. The realization brought with it a small wave of grief, though these days the memories filled her heart rather than leaving her bereft. Time did heal, it seemed.
“Good morning.”
She jumped at the sound of his voice behind her. “It’s nearly noon. Not really morning anymore.”
He looked down at his watch and swore. “But your itinerary...”
She laughed at the expression on his face. “Screw my itinerary. I took the morning off. I only have today and tomorrow anyway and then it’s back to Paris. This morning I’m having coffee and taking my time with it. Then I’m going to go meet with the Paris team. They’re flying back tomorrow and then taking a week of vacation. They worked extremely hard only to have their efforts ruined.”
“They must be disappointed.”
“And angry,” she added. “Rightly so. They need to know they are valued and that their places are secure at Aurora.”
“That’s not a PR person job.” He went to get a mug as she pressed down the plunger in the coffee press.
“No, but I’m the Aurora representative that’s here. And maybe I do PR but I’m also invested in their success.”
His smile widened. “You sounded like your mother just then.”
“Imperative and regal?”
“Just so.” He came closer, looped an arm around her waist and tugged her against his body. “And beautiful. And kind.”
“My mother is kind. Though not many realize it.”
“That bit was a guess for me, but I’m glad to hear it.” He looked down into her eyes. “I’ve told myself a million times I shouldn’t do this. That it can’t go anywhere.” He nuzzled at her cheek, sending a th
rill down her spine.
“It doesn’t have to go anywhere. It can stay right here in New York.” She lifted her chin, rubbing her face against his soft, warm lips. “We have two days. I know you’re not looking for anything...permanent. And neither am I. My schedule isn’t exactly conducive to a relationship. And we live in different cities...”
“And in different worlds,” he added, sliding his mouth over to her earlobe. For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
“How could you be so damned stoic all week? How could you stay so I’m here to do a job when you’re so sexy underneath all that professionalism?”
“I’m off the clock now. Not working. I can be stoic if you want, though. Might be fun.”
Her whole body was humming now, loving this freer side of him. “Hmm, maybe later. First, let’s have coffee.”
She poured both cups, and he fixed hers the way she liked. After only a few days, he’d remembered that little detail. They took their coffee into the living room, where they could look out over Central Park and what was, in her mind, the most beautiful part of Manhattan.
He’d taken several sips before he let out a breath and said, “The right thing for me to do would be to hop on a plane. My job is done and it wouldn’t look right for me to stay.”
She eyed him over the rim of her cup. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who worries about appearances.” She’d half expected him to say such a thing, though. To feel the need to run. What had happened between them—the talking as much as the sex—had to have freaked him out. It was freaking her out a little, too.
“My professional reputation—”
She held up a hand. “Be honest. Your self-preservation is at work here, not concern for your reputation.”
He coughed and she was glad she’d spoken up. No matter how they left things, she would know she’d been honest with him.
“Do you always say exactly what you think?”
