'Tis the Season

by Jennifer Gracen

  “Not to mention,” Pierce added, “word gets out you’re doing the nanny, and she’ll be tabloid fodder in the blink of an eye. Remember how it was when it first got out Abby and I were a couple? Her face was on gossip websites, all that shit.” His eyes narrowed. “Remember when that sleazy photographer followed her to work one day, and I called you, asked for a bodyguard for a few weeks?”

  “I remember,” Charles grumbled.

  “Abby’s a first-grade teacher,” Pierce reminded him. “She works with children. She could have lost her job. Luckily, the paparazzi got bored with us pretty fast, and besides, I’m not a COO. If you and Lisette don’t work out . . . you think she’ll find another nanny job again so easily?”

  “Okay, fine! Goddammit! I hear you.” Charles rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think of those things. But she does. She’s the one who’s concerned about the difference in social status, not me.” He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he huffed out a frustrated breath and said, “I don’t think about the power balance; I just think of her. So it’s what she thinks. And I hate it.”

  “Then show her she’s wrong,” Dane said. “That’s what I did, and I have the most incredible woman in the world. You want Lisette? Then go after her. And show her, and the whole world, that you don’t care about any of that stuff. Show her she’s wrong.”

  “Very romantic,” Pierce said. “But she’s not wrong; that’s the problem.”

  “Since when are you the voice of reason?” Charles snarled.

  “Since I’m the only one here who’s endured a public smearing and paparazzi following my very normal, small-town girlfriend to her job and to her house,” Pierce said, a hard edge to his voice. His eyes flashed as he fixed his brother with an unflinching stare. “Nothing touches you, Charles, you’re like fucking Teflon. But I’ve seen firsthand what happens. I felt awful bringing Abby into my circus of a life. You ready to do that to Lisette?”

  “So that’s it?” Charles said, feeling a wave of anger and hopelessness batter his insides. “Just give up on the idea of pursuing something meaningful with her because of power issues and class wars?”

  “If you just want to sleep with someone,” Dane said quietly, “maybe find someone else.”

  “That’s not—I want something with her,” Charles admitted. “And I haven’t wanted anything real with anyone in a long time. She’s different. She’s special, and I . . .” He swore, shook his head, and stared at the floor. Why had he finally found someone he found interesting enough to pursue, and it had to be tangled up in class bullshit? Couldn’t he do anything the easy way?

  “Oh, honey,” Tess whispered. She leaned in and grasped his hands. He looked up at her, and she squeezed his hands tightly. “You’re a good man. You can find a way to make it work if you really want to try. Nothing’s impossible. Difficult, but not impossible.”

  “You really care about her,” Pierce said.

  Charles nodded. “More than I realized.” His voice had grown low and gruff, and he cleared his throat. “She’s a wonderful woman. She’s got this steely inner strength, surrounded by unbelievable softness and beauty and warmth. Her warmth . . . I want that in my life. I need that; I’m craving it. I want her.” He looked up at his siblings. He had their full attention. “I’m what, too good for her because I come from big money? That’s bullshit. We’re just two people, goddammit. I’m not royalty; she’s not from the gutter; this isn’t some fairy tale. We’re just people.”

  “Hey. Charles.” Pierce stared intently at him. “Right there. You just proved you’re not like Dad. Because no way would he ever lower himself to date someone from a lower social class, much less his kids’ nanny. He would totally care what people would think or say. He’d never take it public. He does think he’s royalty. So congratulations. You hearing me?”

  “Yeah. I hear you,” Charles took his brother’s words on board. “Thanks.”

  Pierce nodded and winked before taking a swig of beer.

  “If something actually happened between us,” Charles said slowly, “I’d . . . I’d shield her from the spotlight and the bullshit as much as I could. The gossip, and anything or anyone nasty. You know, use my powers for good, not evil?”

  They all smiled, the tension in the air dissipating like mist.

  “You’re already thinking in terms of trying to be together, more than a fling,” Tess pointed out softly. Her smile spread and lit her eyes. “So you just need to find out if she has feelings for you too. Do you think she does?”

  “I don’t know.” Charles uncrossed his legs and shifted in his seat. “I know we’re attracted to each other, and we’re both fighting it like hell, but I don’t know if she has actual feelings for me.”

  “Ask her,” Dane said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “Jesus, dude,” Pierce said, sitting back and stretching out his long legs. “For one of the most powerful businessmen in the country, you’re being a total candy-ass about this.”

  “I am not,” Charles insisted. “I’m trying to be careful with someone who, according to you, feels powerless and vulnerable in comparison to me. Not to mention that I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I have feelings for her at all, much less deal with all the difficulties and obstacles that come along with it. It’s a mess.” With a heavy sigh, he reached for his beer bottle. “You’ve all given me a lot to think about today.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  On Sunday evening, when Lisette got home from her day out, the house was oddly quiet. It was six o’clock, dinnertime . . . but there were none of the typical sounds of the children or television or . . . or anything. Putting her coat in the closet, she called out, “Hello?”

  “Hello,” came Charles’s voice, from deeper in the house. “I’m in the dining room. Come on back.”

  Still frowning with confusion, Lisette headed for the dining room. Lights were on in some of the rooms, but the unusual silence in the house made her uneasy.

  “Charles, where are the—?” she began as she entered the large arched doorway of the dining room. The words died in her mouth. The large, elegant dining room had been transformed. . . and the scene was clearly a dinner for two. A huge crystal vase was filled with colorful flowers. Long white candles flickered in the dimmed light. The best china on the table, set for two. Across the room, Charles sat at the head of the polished mahogany table, so handsome in a black pullover sweater, no glasses—and those intense blue eyes were locked on her. Music played softly, a bluesy Eric Clapton. Gripping the back of the chair in front of her, Lisette tried to process what she’d walked into. Finally she blurted out in consternation, “What is all this?”

  “I was hoping you’d have dinner with me,” he said.

  Her heart started to thump harder. “Where are the children?”

  “Their Aunt Tess took them to her house for a sleepover party.”

  “On a Sunday night? But they have school tomorrow.”

  “Tess will get them to school.” He rose from his chair, smiling, and approached Lisette slowly. “You have nothing to worry about. You have the night off.”

  “But I had all day off,” she said, almost stammering. The closer he came, the more her heart pounded. “I don’t understand.”

  “I wanted to have some time alone with you,” he said quietly. “To talk, uninterrupted. So Tess has the kids, and I sent Eileen home early. We’re the only ones in the house tonight.”

  She could only stare. Words failed her.

  “I mean, I’d take you out to dinner, but I didn’t think you’d be comfortable with that. So I tried to bring some special ambience here to the house.” The side of his mouth curved.

  “Like . . . a date?” she whispered, barely able to get out the words.

  “Um . . . if you want,” he said. “I’d love that, but I’m not pushing. I really did just want to talk.”

  She stared at him in astonishment, torn. Half of her was afraid for
everything she had and didn’t want to lose. The other half was swooning. Charles was making an openly romantic move for her? He wanted to have her alone, to have dinner together like a couple on a date? The two sides warred in her head, making it hard to think.

  Charles stepped right up to her and stared down at her, his beautiful blue eyes smoldering. “Lisette . . . we keep trying to go back to the way things were before.” He shook his head as a wry grin spread on his face. “But it’s not going to happen. It can’t. It won’t.”

  With a soft groan of resignation, she whispered, “I know.”

  Charles nodded slowly, his features softening. “What we shared was unplanned. But the chemistry between us is real. We both keep trying to ignore it, and it’s only getting stronger. I’ve tried to stay away from you, but I don’t want to. I think you feel the same way . . . ?”

  Before she could answer, he held up a hand. “You know what, wait. I need to make something clear here.” He drew a deep breath, still watching her. “I’m not trying to assert any power over you. This is not a boss and employee situation. If you don’t want to have dinner with me, that’s fine. If you don’t want to talk with me, that’s fine too. If you want to leave the room right now and we pretend this never happened, okay. Your job isn’t in jeopardy. You want to tell me to go to hell, I will not hold it against you.” His gaze turned earnest. “I just . . . I don’t know how to reach out to you without it seeming as if whatever I ask is a command of some sort. It’s not, I swear.” He heaved a deep sigh, a mixture of frustration and melancholy. “It’s so damn complicated.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. Her breath was stuck in her lungs, and her head was reeling. Had what she’d been trying to tell him finally sunk in? And was he ignoring it all simply because he wanted her anyway?

  The side of his mouth curved in the lopsided grin she adored. “So, bottom line: I’d like you to have dinner with me. I’d like to talk for a while. But it’s not an order, and if you don’t want to, that’s 100 percent okay. All right?”

  “All right,” she whispered. She met his searching gaze directly, looking deep into those brilliant blues.

  He edged closer. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do about this . . . and finally what I came up with this afternoon was, instead of trying so hard to resist the change . . . what if we tried to embrace it?”

  Her stomach rolled in a total free fall of emotion.

  “I have everything a man could want, Lisette,” he said softly. “And yes, a lot more. I’m very lucky. I’ve made a mark with my career; I’ve traveled; I’ve got great kids; I’ve got more money than I’ll ever be able to spend. The only thing I don’t have is someone special to share it all with. And I want that. I’m ready for that. And you . . .” He took a deep breath. “Turns out you’re everything I’ve wanted in a woman . . . and you’ve been right here the whole time.”

  She could barely breathe. She swallowed hard, trying to open her suddenly thickened throat.

  “I want you, Lisette. And I think maybe you want me too. I’m tired of dancing around it, trying to ignore it.” His eyes pinned her. “Aren’t you?”

  She could only stare back into his eyes, spellbound. He had no idea how deep her feelings were for him. No idea how much the things he’d just said meant to her. No idea how much she wanted to just lean into him and feel his arms around her.

  “Say something,” he coaxed.

  “I want to believe you, to trust this, but I’m afraid,” she said. “I trust you, Charles. But it’s everything around us. And what I could lose. I’m afraid of all of it.”

  “Don’t be. Please.” He reached out and took her hand. His skin felt so warm, so good. “Let’s change things tonight. Stop fighting it, and start giving this a chance.”

  “Giving what a chance?” she asked, her voice wobbly. She realized her hands had started trembling. “My losing everything? You’re not the one in danger here. I am.”

  He frowned hard. “I’m not dangerous, in any way.”

  “Yes, you are,” she whispered hotly, pulling her hand from his.

  He stared harder, and she thought he was trying to look right into her head to figure her out. “You do want me too.”

  She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around her middle. It wasn’t just her hands that were trembling now.

  “I’d never fire you or throw you out; I’ve told you that,” he said, his tone growing fierce. “Dammit, Lisette . . . if we want each other, why can’t we try to make something work?” He raked his hands through his wavy hair, and his eyes flashed with frustration. “Just for tonight, can we not be boss and employee? Can I not be Charles Harrison III, and all the crap that comes with it? Can we just be a man and a woman who like each other, who are attracted to each other, and just . . . goddammit, can’t we just be that?”

  “You can,” she said. “You have nothing to lose. I’d lose my job, where I live—people would talk. Everyone. You’d be ridiculed, and I’d be destroyed.”

  He gently gripped her arms, the rising heat coming off him in waves. “I don’t care what anyone would have to say about our dating, if that happened. I just care about you. And I do care. More than you realize . . .” His hands dropped to his sides, and he gazed at her with a mixture of longing and vexation.

  Her blood rushed through her body as a wave of shock rippled over her skin. He cared about her, had real feelings for her? Stunned beyond measure, she could only stare back at him.

  “Do you want me?” he asked directly. The penetrating look on his face left no room for her to hedge. “Just say it, this once. Yes or no, just tell me the truth. If you don’t want me like this, I swear I’ll never do or say anything about it again.”

  “Of course I want you!” she cried, finally breaking. “But I’m kind of terrified, Charles! There are so many reasons why we shouldn’t—”

  He grasped her face between his hands and pressed his mouth to hers. It was the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced, filled with commanding heat and palpable longing. Lost to him, she kissed him back, melting in his arms as they wrapped around her to pull her closer. His lips were warm, and she could taste a hint of scotch on his tongue as it swept into her mouth, sliding against hers. She could smell a hint of musky cologne and the heady male scent that was just Charles. Need burned through her, scorching hot as they kissed. Her hands plowed through his wavy hair, holding his head, as she arched to get even closer. He moaned into her mouth and grabbed her at the waist, pressing her harder against him. She whimpered softly as the last bits of rational thought fled from her mind. No one had ever kissed her like this. His desire for her was unmistakable, a tangible thing. Her legs felt weak, and she held on to him.

  Slowly he pulled back, breathing hard, and leaned his forehead against hers. She felt a bit woozy, dazed, as if he’d put her under a spell. “There’s something real between us,” he panted. “If those kisses didn’t just prove it, nothing could.”

  “Are you kidding?” she managed. “The only reason I’m standing is because you’re holding me up. My limbs are like jelly. Oh my God.”

  She swallowed hard, trying to catch her breath and what was left of her mind. Once they started this, there’d be no going back. He wasn’t pulling a power play; he wasn’t playing her; he was sincere. She knew him well enough to know that. All he wanted from her, it seemed, was her.

  But if things went wrong and the fallout affected the kids in any way . . . She knew their well-being would always come before hers. She had a serious choice to make. Was giving things a shot with him worth losing her job if it all blew up?

  His fingers pushed back the free tendrils of hair from her face, and he looked into her eyes with such gentleness it made her heart clench. “Give me a chance,” he whispered. “Give us a chance. I think we could have something real. I swear you won’t regret it.”

  Ohhhh, it was nearly impossible to think only with her head and not with her heart. She loved her life here . . . but yes, she could f
ind another place to live. Hopefully, she could find another job. She’d rebuilt from scratch before. If she were forced to, she could do it again. But would she find another man like Charles? No. He was one of a kind.

  And the truth was, she already loved him. She’d never tell him that, but she did. Her eyes slipped closed as her breathing calmed and she desperately tried to think. He held her close, wordlessly, waiting.

  “I’m so scared of this,” she finally whispered. Her eyes opened, and she met his gaze. “I’m scared of how much I have to lose here. But . . .” Just say it. He has. Just say it! “I’m even more scared of losing the chance to be with you. Because I want you too. I care about you too.” She felt her face heat, even as his eyes warmed at her confession. “I just can’t believe . . . you really want to date me?”

  “More than you can imagine,” he murmured, caressing her cheek with careful, tender strokes of his fingers. “This isn’t just me trying to sleep with you. I can sleep with anyone, without jeopardizing so much. This is more. I hope you believe that.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip and sighed. “I want to believe that.”

  “I’ll make you believe that,” he swore. “I’ll show you.” He kissed her lips softly, then released her and pulled back, taking her hands in his. “Let’s take a little breather here. I don’t want to overwhelm you. Let’s have dinner, and we’ll talk. We’ll discuss whatever you want to. All right?”

  “All right.” She drew a shaky breath. Was this real? Still in a daze, she let him lead her to her seat.

  * * *

  Charles couldn’t stop staring at her as they sat together, sharing a meal like any normal couple on a date. The candlelight made her luminous, her dark eyes shining as they met his. And there was so much going on in her gaze—he caught moments of surprise, caution, delight . . . but most of all, she was enjoying herself. She wanted to be there with him, and the more she relaxed, the more obvious that became.