Bound by Dreams (Cauld Ane Series, #5)

by Piper Davenport

  A knock at her door pulled her from the closet. “Come in.”

  “You’re going out again?” her mother asked.

  Charlotte nodded. “Niall’s taking me to dinner. Everything sorted with Vandi?”

  Her mother sighed. “I have no idea, hon. She seems to think she’s in love.”

  “With a twenty-two-year-old?”

  “No!” her mother exclaimed. “Is he?”

  “Yes, Mom. Didn’t you know that?”

  “That little liar. She told me he was nineteen.”

  “Still,” Charlotte countered. “A little old to be hanging around high schoolers, don’t you think?”

  “Well, not really. It’s only a three-year difference.”

  “Except that it’s not. It’s six years.”

  “Yes, that does make this weird. She’ll just have to stop seeing him.”

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Good luck with that.”

  “Thanks for getting her.”

  “Of course.” Charlotte smiled. “You should really thank Niall, though.”

  “I will when he gets here tonight.”

  Charlotte just nodded, having no intention of letting her mother anywhere near him.

  Watch those claws, sweetheart.

  Charlotte bit her lip to keep from retorting.

  “Well, I’ll let you change, hon.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Her mother left the room and Charlotte headed for the shower.

  TWO HOURS LATER, Charlotte pulled open her front door and swallowed a fan-girl squeak. Niall wore dark jeans and a black button-down shirt, his hair was a perfect mess, and he had just the right amount of stubble to make her want to run her fingers over his jaw.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat in an effort to regain her dignity.

  “Hi.” His eyes raked over her. “You are magnificent.”

  “Thank you.” She’d chosen jeans with knee-high black boots, and a low-cut, black, long-sleeved T-shirt. She’d worn it for comfort, but Niall made her feel beautiful as well.

  “I was afraid I might be underdressed,” he said.

  “Not at all.” Charlotte giggled. “You’re perfect. Portland’s pretty low-key.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “Are you ready?” she asked.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t I meet your mum?”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  He grinned. “In her eyes, I’m a young man picking up her daughter for a date. I should probably introduce myself.”

  “Except it’s not a date,” she clarified. “We’re just friends.”

  “I’d still like to show your mother respect.”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No, it’s really not necessary. I’m an adult who has been living away from her for six years and besides, she’s the last thing from overprotective. We’re totally free to go.”

  “Charlotte?” her mother called from the kitchen. “Am I going to meet your friend?”

  Charlotte groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Niall chuckled. “Come on, love. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “That’s debatable.” She stepped aside and waved him in when he hesitated. “I lowered the thermostat just in case.”

  “Thank you.” Niall grinned and stepped inside.

  “I’m apologizing in advance.” She grabbed his arm and led him to the back of the house and into the kitchen. She forced herself not to let out a litany of curses as her mother sauntered toward them wearing her favorite see-through leopard-print top and black push-up bra. “You changed, apparently.”

  Her mother waved a hand. “Oh, this old thing? I spilled wine on my T-shirt, so I grabbed the first thing I could.”

  “Hmm-mm, sure you did.” Charlotte glanced apologetically at Niall and then back at her mother. “Niall, this is my mother, Candice. Mom, Niall.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Whitmore.”

  “Oh, call me Candi,” she crooned, and shook his hand with both of hers. “Everyone else does, particularly since I’m no longer married.”

  Niall smiled as he pulled his hand from her grip and laid it on Charlotte’s lower back, calming her instantly. She leaned into his touch.

  “Well, now that you’ve met, shall we go?” Charlotte said.

  “What’s the rush, hon?” her mother countered. “We’re just getting acquainted.”

  Yes, sweetheart, what’s the rush?

  Charlotte scowled up at Niall and then schooled her features to focus on her mother again. “Our reservation’s at six thirty, Mom. I don’t want to lose it.”

  Niall smiled. “She’s right. It is at six thirty, but perhaps I can take everyone out soon. That way, we’ll have time to really talk.”

  “That sounds great.”

  “Great,” Charlotte said, and grabbed Niall’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  “It was lovely to meet you,” Niall said, and let Charlotte drag him to the foyer.

  Charlotte’s mother followed. “You too. I look forward to dinner.”

  Niall nodded. “As do I.”

  “’Bye, Mom.” Charlotte grabbed her purse and coat and pulled Niall from the house.

  Niall had to jog to keep up with her. “Whoa, love, slow down.”

  “I will when we’re in the car.” Bruce held the door open and Charlotte sighed in relief as she practically threw herself in head first. “Thank you.”

  Bruce nodded and closed the door once Niall slid beside her.

  “I’m so sorry,” Charlotte said, and buckled her seatbelt.

  “Don’t apologize, sweetheart. Your mother’s her own person.”

  “I can’t believe she changed... well, no, actually, I can believe she changed.” She groaned. “I just don’t understand why she has to out-slut everyone.”

  Niall laughed. “Out-slut? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that before. Is it an American saying?”

  “No, it’s a Chuck-ism, as Grace says.” She shook her head. “I really am sorry, Nye. She can be unbelievably embarrassing sometimes. She’s gone a little off the rails over the last couple of years. Not sure if she’s realizing she’s getting old, or what.”

  He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “It’s fine, love. I’m well aware that what your mother does isn’t a reflection on you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  Charlotte spent the rest of the drive allowing Niall’s presence to calm her. His thumb gently caressed her knuckles, further solidifying her absolute besotted-ness with him, and by the time they arrived at the restaurant, she was hopelessly in love with him. She was almost willing to get on the plane and fly home with him.

  No, on second thought, that was never going to happen.

  Niall gave her a knowing smile and Charlotte rolled her eyes. She really needed to find out if she could guard her thoughts from him. She did appreciate that he didn’t argue with her, however, and followed him into the restaurant.

  Once dinner wrapped up, Charlotte realized she really didn’t want to go home... ever again.

  “We don’t have to, you know,” Niall said as he signed the check.

  “What?”

  “Go home. You can come back to the hotel with me or we can go somewhere else. Dancing perhaps?”

  Charlotte widened her eyes. “You’d go dancing with me?”

  Niall slid his credit card back into his wallet and nodded. “I know it’s not really your thing, but would you like to go dancing?”

  “Not particularly, no.” Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “I hate the crowds and noise of clubs, to be honest. Wait... how did you know it wasn’t my thing?”

  “Because I know you, love.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  Niall smiled. “So, what would you like to do?”

  “I’d like to hide.”

  He chuckled. “Back to the hotel for a while, then.”

  “I c
an’t, Niall.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because of... I just can’t.”

  Niall frowned. “Then call him and tell him the date’s off.”

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “Because I like him,” she said. “I’m not going to change my actions because you say you and I are destined. I’m not an idiot.”

  “What the hell does being an idiot have to do with this?”

  “Eventually, you’ll get sick of me and find someone else. I will be left heartbroken. At least with Alec I have a chance at an even playing field. You, Niall MacMillan, are way too far out of my league.” She dropped her napkin on the table. “Now, will you please take me home?”

  Niall nodded and rose to his feet, holding Charlotte’s chair while she did the same. He retrieved her coat and helped her into it before guiding her to where Bruce waited with the car. They rode back to her home in silence and without touching. She noticed with some sadness that Niall stared out the window of the car, brooding, and didn’t even attempt to hold her hand.

  She shook off her thoughts. She couldn’t have it both ways, and she’d made her decision. Sooner than she expected, Bruce pulled into her driveway and opened her door for her. Niall followed, ever the consummate gentleman, walking her to her porch.

  “Thank you for dinner,” she said.

  He slipped his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “‘Twas my pleasure, lass.”

  Charlotte slipped the key into the lock and forced a smile. “Good night.”

  “Good night.”

  She slipped inside, locked the door, and made a run for her bedroom. She flopped onto the bed and buried her face in her hands. She was royally screwed.

  * * *

  Niall heard the lock turn and then made his way back to the car. “Find me a bar, Bruce. The seedier the better.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Niall watched the passing scenery as Bruce sped down the highway. He hadn’t counted on another man, or that Charlotte would choose the guy over himself. “Shite!” he snapped.

  His cell phone pealed in the quiet and he answered it, hoping it would be Charlotte. “Hello?”

  “Hi,” Grace said. “Need to talk?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  “Because Charlotte just filled me in on your dinner.”

  “Goddammit,” he said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why didn’t you tell me about this Alec bastard?”

  Grace sighed. “Honestly? I kind of wanted to get back at you a bit for the whole Max thing.”

  “Well, you’ve done that quite effectively, Grace.”

  “I’m sorry, Nye. Really. It was a low blow. What can I do to help?”

  “For starters, what’s Alec’s last name?”

  “I think she said it was Donovan. She met him at an audition. Why, what are you going to do?”

  “Probably better you don’t ask.”

  “Nye, don’t be rash. She won’t like it. Just give it a little time. She’ll come around, eventually. Right now, she’s just scared.”

  “I have given her nothing to be frightened about.”

  “Oh, really?” Grace countered. “You don’t think you’d freak out a bit if the man you’ve had a crush on since you were twelve suddenly walked into your life and professed his undying love?”

  “If I had a crush on a man, Grace, we wouldn’t be here.”

  “You have a point.” She sighed. “Look. Charlotte is the epitome of good choices. She is the polar opposite of her mother...in looks and deeds. Charlotte just doesn’t seem to ever make a bad decision. That’s not to say she’s perfect by any stretch, but she’s quick to self-correct if she’s going down a path that isn’t a wise one. Except for one time. She dated a guy she thought was “the one,” and he shattered her. He was a nasty-ass jerk who just happened to be wrapped up in a very pretty package. So now she runs from anything that looks too good to be true, and you, my brother, fall into that category.”

  He stamped down his rage. “Who was this man?”

  “Oh, just a two-bit actor by the name of Blake Harris.”

  “Bloody hell. The guy who demands ten million a picture?”

  “Yep, one and the same,” Grace said. “He strung her along, cheated on her, and even smacked her around. Once, mind you. She would have never allowed him to touch her a second time, but she was really scared for a while there. Once he found a new conquest, he left her alone, but she looked over her shoulder for almost a year.”

  “He hit her?” he rasped.

  Grace paused.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” he demanded.

  “Nye.” She sighed. “It’s something I’m not supposed to know.”

  “What? Tell me,” he demanded.

  “He put her in the hospital. Broke her wrist, bruised a few ribs, and from what Donnie told me, attempted rape.”

  Niall swore. “Who the hell is Donnie?”

  “One of Charlotte’s friends from L.A. They were really close, but only friends.”

  “And he took care of her?”

  “Yes, she let the nurse call him from the hospital.”

  “Tell me exactly what that bastard did to her. All of it, even if you don’t think I want to know.”

  “One of Blake’s security guards intervened before Blake could do anything worse than he did, and got her to the hospital. I think he may have been the reason Blake didn’t bother her again.”

  “That doesn’t make it okay, Grace.”

  “I’m not saying it is. Just giving you the facts.”

  He took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. “Why aren’t you supposed to know?”

  “She made Donnie promise not to tell me. Charlotte has this intense need to do everything on her own, plus her father had threatened to drag her home if anything happened to her. He hated the idea of her moving to L.A. He wanted her safe, and apparently, the only reason Donnie knew anything was because they wouldn’t let her leave the hospital without someone to drive her home. Donnie knew how close she and I were, so he called me, albeit a few days later, but we’ve never even told Charlotte we talked.”

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  “Look, it was a long time ago, Niall. She’s never said a word about it, and I’ve just kind of let it go. It’s done... well, it’s kind of done. She has some lingering trust issues, but I know you’ll work those out.”

  “That’s the plan,” he said. “What do you suggest?”

  “Be her friend. Show her you’re not going anywhere. Her attraction to Alec will die out, Nye, I promise. She’ll kill me for telling you this, but she’s not really even attracted to him anymore. She’s going out with him on Tuesday only because she said she would and because she’s scared you’ll break her heart. But the more you’re there, the more she’ll compare you two. He won’t win. He couldn’t if he tried.”

  Niall closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Perhaps you’re right.”

  Grace chuckled. “Oh, I’m right... you can take that to the bank.”

  “Grace!” Max called in the background.

  “Be right there, babe,” she called back. “I should go, but if you need me, I’m here, okay?”

  “Aye, lass. Thanks.”

  “Anytime. ’Bye.”

  Grace hung up and Niall thought about what she’d said. “Bruce? Let’s skip the bar. You can take me back to the hotel.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  As Bruce drove, Niall made a phone call.

  “Hello?”

  “Thane, it’s Niall MacMillan.”

  Thane Allen was one of the Scotland’s most popular actors. Truth be told, he was one of the world’s favorite actors. He was tall, built like a brick shit house, blond, Scottish, and Cauld Ane. These attributes drove women, human and Cauld Ane alike, to swarm his homes and movie sets (if they got past security), and the paparazzi stalked him daily. Thane’s per-movie paycheck was in the hundreds of millions;
however, he was far more honorable than the American.

  “Hey, brother, long time no hear.”

  “Aye. Sorry about that. We just got off tour and I’m back in America for the moment.” Niall stared out at the passing city. “Hey, do you know Blake Harris?”

  “Aye, I’m afraid I do. Why?”

  “I have a little favor to ask.”

  * * *

  Charlotte woke the next morning to the sound of her cell phone. She felt for the metal and answered the call. “Hello?”

  “Charlotte, it’s Trudy.”

  “Hi,” she said, and rubbed her eyes, hoping she didn’t sound like she’d just woken up. “Good morning.”

  “Sorry to call you on a Sunday, but I figured you’d want to know the news right away. You got the part.”

  “What?” Charlotte sat up. “Really?”

  “Yes. Congratulations. Shooting starts in a week.”

  “Wow, Trudy. That’s... well, amazing.” She slipped her hair from her face. “Thank you so much for everything.”

  “My pleasure, hon. I’ll e-mail you the schedules and salary details.”

  “Before you go, do you know who’ll be playing my husband?”

  “Oh, yes, hold just a second.” Charlotte heard rustling in the background. “Alec Donovan. You read with him, correct?”

  “Yes. Thank you. That’s great.”

  “Good. Okay, I’ll talk to you soon. Gotta run.”

  “Thanks again, Trudy,” Charlotte said, and hung up as she flopped back onto her pillow. She was grateful that this part would pay enough to last her a couple of months. She glanced at her clock. Nine a.m. She decided to drag her ass out of bed and make breakfast for everyone.

  Once dressed, she headed downstairs, arriving in the foyer just as the doorbell rang. She opened the door to find a delivery man with a huge bouquet of flowers. “Delivery for Charlotte Whitmore.”

  “That’s me,” she said, and took the vase, setting it on the foyer table.

  “Sign here, miss.”

  “What kind of flowers are these? Do you know?” she asked as she signed the delivery sheet.

  “The white ones are Acacia Blossom and the red are Camellia.” The delivery man smiled. “Someone’s sending you quite the message. Those flowers are almost impossible to find.”