by Holly Jacobs
He deepened the kiss, feeling a bone-deep sense of contentment despite his inner turmoil.
“Wow,” she murmured when their lips finally broke apart. “I—”
“Don’t say another word. Turn around and march back to your car. Unload your packages, settle in, and call it an early night. We leave for work at six.”
“I—”
“Just shut up, Charlie. I realize you want me to apologize for lying to you and probably for kissing you, but there’s no way I’m apologizing for either. I’m a trucker who owns his company and I’m a man who’s not beyond physical temptation.” Dan turned to walk out of the kitchen and make his grand exit. He was stopped by something hitting him in the back. He turned and Charlie’s shoe was lying at his feet.
“I didn’t ask for an apology. I was going to say that with all the shopping I’d done, I hadn’t bought any food. I was going to ask you if you could recommend a pizza shop out here in the boondocks. And I was going to ask you if you’d like to split one, but bite me.”
Biting her sounded tempting, but Dan had already said too much, so he didn’t mention it. “What do you like?”
What did she like? She liked the way he kissed just fine, but Charlie wasn’t about to mention that. He was a conceited, pompous man who happened to kiss very well.
A man who owned a trucking company and who must have money. Dan had as much as admitted that. He was just another rich man. She was done with rich men. She had to remember that. But that didn’t stop her from appreciating his kissing abilities. She’d very much like to try again, even though she knew she shouldn’t.
As if he could read her mind, Dan clarified, “On your pizza.”
“Oh.” No, she wasn’t going to say she wanted to be kissed. Charlie had to settle for saying, “Cheese and mushrooms.”
“Fine. Frank’s delivers. I’ll call you when it gets here.” He turned, dismissing her.
Charlotte Eaton had had enough dismissals to last a lifetime. “Just give me the number and I’ll call. I can certainly handle ordering a pizza.”
“I don’t know the number. It’s on my speed dial.”
“You eat it that often?” She liked pizza as much as the next person, but certainly not enough to keep it on her speed dial.
“It’s no fun cooking for one.”
“Oh.” Charlie knew all about how dull cooking for one could be. As much as she loved cooking, she rarely had in her year with Winslow. He’d preferred eating out and she’d never cooked for family.
“Go unpack. I’ll call you when it comes. There’s an intercom system that connects the house to the apartment.”
“Fine.” Charlie turned and left, slamming the door behind her. Despite the fact she was done with men, she wished more than anything that Dan would stop her and kiss her senseless one more time. But he didn’t, and she was left to face unpacking all her clothes while she daydreamed about Dan Martin’s lips.
“Well, if it isn’t His Royal Highness,” the woman at the front desk at Imperial’s office said the next morning. “You’ve decided to visit with your loyal subjects?”
“Give it a rest, Molly,” Dan growled as he tossed some paperwork on the woman’s desk.
The well-rounded, smiling redhead turned her attention to Charlie. “And are you the reason Prince Dan-some here played hooky?”
Charlie liked Molly on sight. There was something comfortable, something confident, that radiated from her. From her mile-high red hair to her cat-eye-shaped glasses, Molly just felt like someone who could be a friend.
“Dan-some?” Charlie asked.
“Well, Con has always been Prince Charming. Have you met him yet?”
Charlie shook her head.
“Molly,” Dan warned.
Obviously not in the least intimidated, the receptionist continued, “Dan plus handsome. I just sort of merged the words. He’s definitely got the looks. It’s the personality that’s lacking. No one would call Dan charming—you might have noticed that.”
“I can’t say I have. Dan’s been very charming and very”—she searched for some princely word—“gallant. Dan’s been very gallant.”
Handsome. Yes, that was accurate too, though she wasn’t going to admit it. And he’d been charming on occasion, just not recently.
Last night’s dinner had been agonizingly stiff. They’d sat at Dan’s table, all their previous comfort suddenly evaporated. When they’d both reached for a piece of pizza and their hands had brushed, Dan had jumped back as if she had burned him.
No, she might not want to let anyone talk Dan down, but she wasn’t going to admit any more than she had to.
“Oh, that sounds like a story.” Molly rubbed her hands together, obviously looking forward to the telling.
“I’m going back to my office,” Dan growled. “Charlie’s working here, find her something to do, and put her on the payroll.” Dan stalked down the hall, leaving the women to themselves.
“So your name’s Charlie. Tell me how you came to know our Dan,” he heard Molly bubble.
What the hell had he been thinking, bringing Charlie here?
He rearranged the papers on his desk for over half an hour, rather than dealing with them.
Charlie was innocent. It had taken her twenty-seven years to declare her independence from her mother. She was on the rebound, looking for some affirmation, looking for something new and exciting.
Well, she didn’t belong here. Molly could corrupt a saint, and Con . . .
He hadn’t been thinking when he’d offered to let her work for him. Charlie didn’t know the first thing about men. Look at the man she’d almost married. Anyone with half a brain could see Winslow the fop was a worm.
She’d take one look at Con and fall all over him, just like every other woman in the city had.
Molly shouldn’t call Con Prince Charming, she should call him Con Juan—his own personal nickname for his friend. Con’s reputation with women was almost as legendary as the literary figure’s.
Dan had left Charlie, vulnerable Charlie, out there with Molly. Out in the main office, where Con was bound to show up.
He bolted from his desk.
Dan could hear Charlie’s voice. “. . . and then he swooped in like a knight on a charger and rescued me.”
Molly lifted her glasses and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I guess maybe you’re right. Dan can be charming, though none of us here have seen it.”
“Honey, if you’d like to learn about charming, I’d be happy to teach you.” It was Con’s voice.
Dan realized that he was too late.
Charlie apparently didn’t hear Con’s offer, because instead of falling at his feet the way the rest of the female population did, she said, “And after Dan rescued me, he rescued Ida—”
Dan hadn’t seen Con standing in the corner, but he saw him as he stepped forward. “Con, you don’t have to teach her a thing. Charlie, I need you back in my office. The first door on the right.”
“Dan?” Charlie’s smile slowly melted into a nervous frown.
“Go on, Charlie.” Dan nudged her toward the hall. “Go on. I’ll be right there.”
Charlie shrugged, gave Molly and Con a little wave, and walked past him down the hall.
As soon as he heard his office door shut, Dan walked up to his partner. Conrad Estoban was everything Dan wasn’t. Smooth, articulate, engaging. Add to that, he came from money. Con was everything Charlie needed in a man.
Con might have been born into a prestigious family like Winslow, but he didn’t live on the family money or reputation. He’d walked into a partnership with Dan, pulling his own weight, doing the dirty work.
Dan had never envied Con’s background or his looks or even his way with women. Con wasn’t just a partner, but a best friend, and there was no place in a friendship for jealousy. “We’re
friends, Con. And as a friend, I’m warning you to leave Charlie alone.”
“Does she have some disease I should know about?” Con’s startlingly blue eyes blazed with humor from beneath his dark brows.
“No, she doesn’t have a disease. She’s vulnerable, that’s all.”
“And?” Con didn’t shift from his lazy stance against the filing cabinet.
Dan wished he felt so relaxed. He hadn’t felt the least bit relaxed since Charlie had crawled into his truck. “And she’s not for you to use and lose, like all the other women who you date. She’s off-limits.”
Con’s eyes narrowed a moment, and then he nodded. “So that’s how it stands?”
Dan shook his head, knowing and denying what Con was thinking. “It’s not what you think. I’m responsible for her and I don’t want her hurt. She’s been through enough already.”
Con smiled, but it wasn’t a comforting sight. “That’s all?”
“That’s all.” That was all it could be. He might be physically attracted to Charlie, but she wasn’t for him. She was still recovering from her almost-wedding. “She’s confused, and innocent. She’s not like one of your women.”
“Boys.” Molly’s voice was sharp.
Boys. Molly would never think of either of them as her boss, both Con and Dan realized that. She’d joined them when the company was new and struggling. She’d stood by them in all their rough times and had become their mother as well as a partner in the business.
“That’s enough strutting like two preening peacocks,” Molly said. “Charlie struck me as a girl who can stand up for herself.”
An image of Charlie hitchhiking in her wedding finery came to mind, and Dan smiled despite his annoyance. “She can. She’s just going through a rough time now. Back off.” He stalked down the hall and slammed into his office.
Charlie was simply standing in the middle of his office, waiting. “Dan?”
“Here.” He shoved a pile of papers her way. “File these there.” He pointed to an oversize filing cabinet that took the entire east wall of his office.
“That’s it? No explanation why you rushed into the room like some outraged father?”
“No.”
He picked up a file and flipped it open, pretending to study it, ignoring Charlie’s glare.
“I didn’t exchange an overbearing mother for an overbearing . . .” She left the sentence hanging as if she couldn’t figure out the appropriate description.
“Overbearing what, Charlie?” Dan’s voice was soft. His work was all but forgotten.
“Boss,” she suddenly blurted out. “An overbearing boss.”
Dan wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but he was disappointed. He wasn’t exactly sure how he wanted Charlie to describe their relationship, but he was sure boss wasn’t the word he wanted her to use.
Charlie didn’t look particularly happy with him. “I’m going out for lunch.”
Dan glanced at his watch. “It’s only ten o’clock.”
“And it will be eleven o’clock before I come back. Employees get an hour for lunch. Well, I’m taking mine now.”
He stood. “I’ll come with you.”
“No you won’t.” She glared at him. “I need to think.”
“About what?” Dan didn’t like her expression. She’d had the same look on her face when she’d climbed into his truck for the first time.
“About if taking this job—”
“Begging for this job.”
Charlie’s eyes narrowed and Dan suddenly believed in the old adage about looks killing. If they could, he’d be dead right now. No, her expression didn’t bode well at all for Daniel Ferguson Martin.
“Taking,” she said firmly. “Not begging. I want to think about whether taking this job was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” he said, though he himself had doubted the wisdom of her working for him. But when she’d asked, not begged, for the job, he couldn’t say no.
“What would you call it? I obviously embarrass you so much you have to hide me away in your office. I seem to be embarrassing men all over Erie lately.”
Dan didn’t say a word. It was easier if she thought he was embarrassed, because if she knew he’d felt . . . well, he’d felt jealous, she’d take it as an indication that he cared. And he didn’t, at least not any more than any friend would care.
“I need a job,” she continued. “But I’ve got almost five years’ experience at the museum, that must count for something somewhere. And who says I have to stay in Erie? Why, I could head to DC and apply at the Smithsonian, I’ve always loved those museums, or maybe New York. Working at the Met wouldn’t be a job, it would be a joy.”
Charlie took a breath and Dan could sense that she was building up to another verbal roller coaster. Rather than try to reason with her, he stood and walked around the desk.
Charlie backed up. “Dan?” she asked weakly.
“I’m not hiding you because I’m embarrassed,” he said as he continued to approach.
Charlie couldn’t continue to back up. She ran into the file cabinets and was stopped cold.
“And you’re not going to DC or New York,” he continued.
“No?” she whispered.
“No. I’m not embarrassed, I’m just . . .” He paused.
CHAPTER SIX
Dan was jealous, but knew he had no rational reason to be.
He hardly knew Charlie. She wasn’t his. He didn’t have the right to kiss her, and he had every reason in the world not to kiss her.
But right or not, he was going to kiss her again.
He moved toward her, before he thought better of it. Kissing Charlie was like licking a battery when he was a kid. It sent tiny jolts of electric current racing through his body. Not quite pain. Her kisses were exciting, addictive, even.
Gently he nudged her lips apart and investigated the contours of her mouth. She met his kiss without hesitation.
“Charlie,” he gasped as he forced himself to draw away. “Go to lunch.”
He needed space.
“Lunch?” she murmured, still in a passion-filled daze. Slowly her eyes cleared and narrowed.
“Lunch,” she repeated flatly. “I’ll be back in an hour.” She turned and made her way out of Imperial Shipping.
Lunch? The only thing she was hungry for was a cantankerous trucker who’d turned out to be the company’s owner. She was aching for a man who’d shown her a slice of heaven, then ripped it away from her.
The crowned prince of Imperial Shipping was a wolf in a trucker’s clothing. No, if he’d been a wolf, then she wouldn’t be feeling so frustrated. He was a sheep, running away from . . . she had no idea exactly what he was running from.
She scanned the small lot for her gold Blazer. Gold, that was easy enough. But even once she found the car, walking away from the building and walking toward it was hard. She wanted to run back into the shipping office, right into Dan’s office, bolt the door, and step back into his arms.
She was twenty-seven years old and had thought she’d experienced passion. But one failed love affair and then the lukewarm kisses she’d exchanged with Winslow hadn’t even come close to what she’d felt in Dan’s arms.
Lukewarm, at best. That’s what Winslow had been.
Charlie knew she’d never be satisfied with lukewarm again.
“Charlie?”
She’d almost reached her car. She turned and saw Dan’s partner closing the distance between them. What was his name?
“What?” Realizing how abrupt she’d sounded, she smiled. “I’m sorry. I work for you too now, don’t I?”
The man smiled. “Do you? With the way you stormed out of the office, I wasn’t sure.”
“It’s just that man . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind. Was there something I could do for you, Mister
. . . ah, I hate to admit, I can’t remember your name.”
Rather than look insulted, Dan’s partner smiled. “Con. Con Estoban.”
“Con Estoban. Your name rhymes. That must be a burden.” Charlie stopped, aghast at what she’d said.
That’s it. Dan had reduced her to sounding like a fool. “I’m sorry, Mr. Estoban,” she apologized. “Was there something you wanted?”
“Call me Con. I wanted to know if you’d like to join me for lunch? We can talk about your position in the company.”
She frowned. “Mr. Estoban, if you want to talk about my job, I think it would be better if we did it in the office. We can do it now. I can take a later lunch.”
He just shook his head, still grinning like a fool. Maybe Dan’s partner had some mental problem Dan hadn’t mentioned? Suddenly she felt ashamed for barking at the simple man. “Are you sure?”
“Go.”
Charlie didn’t need a second invitation. Imperial Shipping was run by a bunch of insane . . . men. It was the biggest insult she could think of.
Charlie climbed into her Blazer and gunned the engine, roaring out of the parking lot.
What on earth was going on with her?
What on earth was going on?
Dan stood in his office window and watched Con talking to Charlie.
What was Con doing? Dan had specifically told him that Charlie was off-limits. The man had a harem. Couldn’t he leave one poor, confused girl alone?
Charlie practically ran to her car and tore out of the lot. Moments later Con opened Dan’s office door.
“What did you say to her that sent her barreling out of the parking lot like that?”
Con smiled an enigmatic smile. “I asked her to lunch.”
Dan slammed the wall with his fist. “I wanted that to be your face.”
Con ignored Dan’s outburst and sank nonchalantly into the chair. “I know.”
“I might be doing you a favor. Maybe if you weren’t so pretty, the women would leave you alone.”
“It has nothing to do with looks, my friend, it’s the attitude. It drives the women wild.” He paused. “Except . . .”
