by Carrie Elks
Chapter Ten
“What are you doing in Charleston?” Eliana’s smooth voice echoed through the phone speaker as Daniel talked to her on Sunday. “Are you coming into work tomorrow?”
“You wanted me to meet with Lawrence and Nina, so I thought I’d strike while the iron’s hot.” Daniel leaned back on the soft cream leather sofa and looked out of the plate glass window of his hotel suite to the city below. He’d driven up this morning. Charleston was a two hour drive from Hartson’s Creek, and he’d played loud rock music for every mile of it, determined to chase the thought of Becca Hartson out of his mind.
He’d spend a few days in his family’s home city, get his half-siblings to agree to the new whiskey line he wanted to introduce, then go back to the distillery and forget anything ever happened between him and Becca.
The truth was, nothing really had happened. But it could have. There was a moment when all he could think about was kissing her. But then she’d reached out to touch him, and he’d stopped her by reflex.
He knew that if she touched him, he’d be a goner. He wouldn’t have wanted it to stop at a touch; he wanted more.
And that thought made him grit his teeth with anger. Because he shouldn’t want it. Not from her.
He was stronger than that.
“I wasn’t expecting you to drive to Charleston so soon. You should have told me, I’d have come with.”
Which was exactly why he hadn’t told her. He needed to be alone right now. Needed the distance between him and Hartson’s Creek to wash the memory of Friday night away.
“I have it handled. I’m meeting Lawrence and Nina for dinner tomorrow. We’ll discuss the proposed plans and then I’ll come home. I’m pretty sure you can handle the distillery without me for one day.”
“Of course we can, darling. But I worry. You’ll be outnumbered at dinner. Will Charles be there? And Melissa of course.”
“They will.” Charles was Nina’s husband. Part of the Charleston aristocracy. Nina had married well. And Melissa was Lawrence’s wife. And the less he thought about them the better.
“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s not a big deal. One meal and then I’ll be home. So stop worrying.”
“Do you have everything you need?” Eliana asked, sounding anxious. “Did you remember your—”
“Mom, stop. It’s all good. I’m here, I’m ready, and now I’m going to hang up and head out for a run. You didn’t worry when I was in Scotland, and you don’t need to worry now.”
“Scotland was out of sight, out of mind. It was easy not to worry about you when you were there.”
“Why not worry about Nathan, instead. Have you heard from him?”
“He called this morning. His night time. He’s settling in nicely.”
“That’s good.” Daniel was happy for his brother. Sure, he wished Nathan was here with him to even out the numbers between their father’s first family and his second. But if anybody deserved to experience new things, it was Nathan. He’d held the fort for too long.
“So I’ll see you Tuesday?” Eliana asked.
“You will. I’ll drive down in the morning, and should get to work by lunchtime. But if there are any problems, let me know and I’ll leave early.”
“There won’t be any problems. Not here, at least.” She sighed. “Please don’t let Lawrence get to you this time.”
“I won’t.” If anything it would be the other way around. He always knew what buttons to push with his brother.
Except for that one time that was better left forgotten.
He ended the call and walked over to the window, looking out at the city below. Night was falling, the sun dipping behind the Allegheny Mountains, their peaks silhouetted against the darkening sky. Like the rest of West Virginia, Charleston wasn’t big. With a population of just over forty-five thousand, it would probably be called a town anywhere else. But it housed the State Capitol, and was the center of political life.
It was also where his father had grown up. And his father before him. Their ancestral home was on the outskirts of town, occupied by Lawrence and his wife. Even with its modern buildings and political life, Charleston was a slower way of life. Bloodlines were important, manners were everything. And backstabbing was practically an artform.
Maybe that’s why he hated coming here. He always had. Even as a boy, he’d counted down the days to his summer vacations with a heavy heart, knowing that the family would decamp to the Jackson-Carter House, named after his great-great-great grandparents, or something like that. It was an old fashioned home built twenty years before the Civil War, where Lawrence and Nina would join Daniel and his family for two months of family summers, tension, and acrimony sizzling beneath their perfectly polite smiles.
He hadn’t been unhappy that Lawrence had inherited the home from their father. It wasn’t somewhere Daniel ever wanted to spend time, anyway. That slow, humid, stiff-upper lip lifestyle that his half-brother and sister led held no interest for him at all.
But at least while he was here, he wouldn’t be constantly thinking about Becca Hartson, and the way she’d stared at him as he held her wrist.
Or the deep, throbbing need he was starting to feel for her.
Shaking his head at himself, he tore his gaze away from the city scape and headed for the bedroom, changing into his workout gear and grabbing his ear pods. He couldn’t box today, not with the way his hands ached from two nights of pummeling his punchbag. Running would have to do.
Right now, physical exercise was the only thing that was stopping him from going mad.
“Becca, you have a phone call.” Sandy was huffing, as though she’d run from the reception into the still room. “You can take it in the office,” she said, pointing to the small cupboard-like room that was supposed to be the still room office, but was barely used. “I’ve transferred it there.”
“Do you know who it is?” Becca frowned. She wasn’t expecting a call. If it was her family, they’d use her cell.
“Mr. Carter.” Sandy smiled. “Daniel.”
Oh. Becca felt her breath catch in her throat. It had been strange coming into work and Daniel not being here. She’d heard somebody say he was out on business, and she tried to feel happy about that, because it meant she wouldn’t have to see him.
But instead she’d felt a little empty.
Becca winked. “You know, next time you could use the PA.”
Sandy wrinkled her nose. “I hate it. If I wanted to hear my voice echoing out of the speakers, I’d have become a rockstar like your brother.”
She bit down a smile at the image of Sandy rocking it until she dropped on a stage. “I’ll go answer it now.”
Sandy rushed back to reception. She hated leaving it unmanned. Not quite as much as she hated the PA system – hence the fifty yard dash.
Becca walked across to the office, her brain working overtime as she tried to discern why Daniel was calling. Closing the door softly, she walked the two steps it took to reach the desk and picked up the phone, pressing the button that was flashing. “Becca Hartson speaking.”
Lifting a sheaf of paper out of the way, she sat on the corner of the desk. A cloud of dust lifted into the air.
“Becca, it’s Daniel. I need a favor from you.”
Well that was unexpected. “What can I do?”
“Are you in the middle of anything you can’t leave right now?” He sounded strange. Almost urgent.
“Um, nothing I can’t ask Garrett to manage. Why?” She noticed an old calendar hanging on the wall from 2016. This room really needed to be cleaned.
“Listen carefully. I need you to go to my office and open my refrigerator. You’ll find a black insulated box in there. Then I want you to get in your car and bring it to me. I’m in Charleston, at the Ambassador Hotel. When you get here, leave the car with the valet and take the elevator to the penthouse. I’ll meet you there.”
Becca blinked, wondering if she’d
heard him right. “You want me to drive to Charleston?”
“The one in West Virginia, yes.”
“I wasn’t thinking you were in South Carolina. It’s going to take me a couple of hours to get there.”
“It’s okay. I can wait.” His voice was low. Thick.
“What’s in the black box?”
“Nothing you need to know about. Please don’t open it. I need it to stay sealed.” He cleared his throat. “And don’t let my mother know you’re coming. She’ll worry.”
Becca ran the tip of her finger along her lip. “So let me get this straight, you want me to sneak into your office without your mom seeing, take a box out of your refrigerator that I’m not allowed to open or see the contents of, then bring it to Charleston where I’ll take it to the penthouse.” She shook her head. “Either this is some kind of prank or I’m in the middle of a heist movie.”
“It’s not a joke. It’s important. I need that box as soon as possible.” His voice softened, became edged with honey. “I’d be really grateful if you can do this. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need it.”
Becca exhaled heavily. It was going to take two hours to get to Charleston, then at least another two or three to get home in rush hour traffic. Okay, so she had nothing planned this evening apart from tackling a Mexican Chocolate Fudge Pie she’d found a recipe for. But still.
“You’ll owe me.”
“I’m perfectly aware of that.”
She smiled at the tartness of his response. “All right then. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Everything about the Ambassador Hotel screamed luxury. From the gleaming marble tiled floor and dark oak walls of the reception, to the sleek metallic lines of the elevator, with gold leaf patterns on the doors that slid silently to welcome her inside. The concierge had intercepted her as soon as she walked through the hotel doors, and upon ascertaining her name, escorted her to the private penthouse elevator at the back of the expansive, triple story reception. He slid his card slickly through the reader then let her step inside.
“Mr. Carter will be waiting for you,” he told her. “So you won’t need a code to unarm the alarm.”
Becca nodded, clutching the black insulated box in her fingers. She was used to wealth. Her brothers made enough money, after all. Gray with his music career, Cam with his football, and both Tanner and Logan were successful businessmen. But she hadn’t personally experienced luxury like this. She stood in the center of the elevator car as it rose seamlessly through the building, watching as her reflection stared back at her.
She’d made more of an effort than usual this morning, tying her hair back into a low bun, and wearing a black tailored shirt rather than her usual GSC polo top. It was cinched into a pair of tailored khaki pants, and belted at her slim waist. Of course, she still didn’t look like she belonged in a hotel like this, but at least people wouldn’t mistake her for maintenance.
The elevator came to a stop, the doors sliding effortlessly open. And on the other side, in the center of a lobby that was bigger than her kitchen at home, was Daniel Carter.
He didn’t smile when he saw her. His jaw was tight and his eyes were dark, the way they always seemed to be when he stared at her. A stupid pulse of electricity shot through her veins.
When she stepped out of the elevator onto the tiled floor, she noticed the dark circles beneath his eyes. Had he been as sleepless as she had been since Friday? His hair was messier than usual, as though he’d ran his thick fingers through it too many times. And his face – though still devastatingly attractive – looked pale.
“Are you okay?” she asked, expecting a smart reply.
“I will be.” His attempt at a smile fell short. Maybe he really was sick. “Can I take this?” He reached out for the box. She slid it into his hands.
“I haven’t looked inside.” Though the temptation had almost killed her. But she’d made a promise and she always kept them.
“Thank you.” Still no smart reply. Yep, there was definitely something wrong. “Take a seat,” he said, pointing at a cream leather sofa in the center of an oversized living area. The wall in front of it was made of glass, looking out over the leafy city of Charleston. In the distance she could see the golden gleam of the Capitol dome. “There’s water in the refrigerator if you’re thirsty. I’ll be back in a minute.” He didn’t wait for her to sit, just strode across the room with the box in his hand, heading for a door on the far side. His bedroom? Becca shrugged and walked over to the window to appreciate the view.
She was a little thirsty now that she thought about it. Turning on her heel, she walked to the kitchen area. Sure enough, the refrigerator was lined with bottled water. She grabbed one for herself, then took out a second in case.
“Would you like some water?” she called out. There was no response. Stupid oversized penthouse. If he was in a normal hotel room, he’d have no problem hearing her. She walked over to his bedroom door and knocked gently. Still no reply. Sighing, she pulled at the handle, opening her mouth to repeat her question.
Then closed it swiftly.
Daniel was standing in the middle of an opulent bedroom, his shirt open and his dark gray tailored pants unfastened at the fly, revealing a smooth, taut stomach and lean hips, with dips and muscles in all the right places.
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw him pinching his skin with one hand, the other holding a needle. At that moment, the point of the needle had made an imprint in his smooth skin. His body was as beautiful as his face. Sculpted and muscled. It made her heart speed, but for all the wrong reasons.
Pulling her gaze from his bare stomach, she took in his pinched brows and intense expression, his lips slightly parted as though he was concentrating.
And then he realized she was there and everything went to hell.
His eyes lifted, looking fiery as they met hers. Becca stepped back, her cheeks heating up as she realized she’d stepped into a scene she’d never expected to be part of.
“Get out!” Daniel snapped at her. “Now.”
But she couldn’t get her feet to move. It was like somebody had glued the soles to the carpet. Her heart was pummelling against her ribcage, blood rushing through her ears.
“Are you taking drugs?” she asked, her voice thin. Her hands started to shake. “Is that what I brought here? You made me traffic drugs!”
Daniel pulled the needle from his flesh, setting it in a tray on the dresser beside him. When he looked back at her, his eyes were as dark as ink. She could feel the disdain radiating from him.
“No, Becca, it’s not drugs. I’m a fucking diabetic.”
Daniel regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth. Not just because of the expression on her face – though that was pretty bad. But because she’d done something nice for him. Taken hours out of her day to bring his damn insulin and he’d thrown it back in her face.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was soft. “I’m jittery. I haven’t been able to eat until I could inject myself.”
“That’s insulin?” she asked, glancing at the syringe.
“Yeah. I thought I’d brought enough with me, but I ran out this morning. I’m an idiot.” He blew out a mouthful of air. “Could you please give me a minute to tidy myself up?”
Her eyes were as wide as a doe’s. “I should go anyway. It’s a long trip back home.”
His chest tightened. “Please stay. Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain.” She shook her head. “It’s fine, honestly.” She looked like she wanted to bolt.
“Then stay and let me thank you. But with my clothes on.” He glanced down at his open shirt and pants. “If that’s okay?”
She finally nodded, and relief rushed through him. As she left his bedroom, he walked over to the floor length mirror, taking himself in. He was a damn mess. Not just his clothes, or his ruffled hair, but his face, too. Pale from hunger because he hadn’t dared to eat carbohydrates without having his insulin to control the sugar r
ush, and the slices of cheese he’d swallowed down just didn’t cut it. Deftly fastening his buttons, he tucked his shirt back into his waistband and checked his appearance again. Better. Doing his best to rearrange his hair with his fingers, he walked over to the door, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw her sitting on the leather sofa.
So she hadn’t run. Brave girl.
“I poured you a glass of water,” she said, looking over at him. “It’s on the counter.”
“Thank you.” He offered her a smile and grabbed the glass, taking a healthy drink, then grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, attacking it like he was starving to death. “Are you hungry?” he asked, when he’d swallowed it down.
“A little.” She’d missed lunch to drive up here.
“I’ll have some sandwiches sent up.” He lifted the phone to reception and gave his order. “Would you like tea or coffee?” he asked, covering the mouthpiece with his hand.
“Coffee would be great.”
“Two coffees as well, please. Can you make sure it’s here in ten minutes?” he asked the woman on the other line. The banana should tide him over, but he needed to eat quickly after injecting. And anyway, he was hungry.
“Of course, Mr. Carter.”
He hung up, carrying another banana over to where Becca was sitting on the sofa, her body leaning forward, her hands clasped tightly on top of her thighs. She was staring out of the wall of glass. When he walked in front of her, she blinked, as though surprised to see him there.
“I expect you have questions.” He broke off a piece of the fruit and pushed it between his lips. His stomach gurgled as it welcomed the food.
“A few.” There was no trace of a smile on her face. Not anger, either. Just a bewilderment that he too was feeling.
Damn, she was pretty. No, nix that. Beautiful. He wanted to trace the straight line of her nose with his fingertip, then press it against her swollen lips.
