Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller) (11 page)

Damian shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to walk through that park at night. It’s safer to look at it from here.”

“And I thought moving up would be having an apartment with a bedroom in it.”

“Space is a relative concept. If you’re happy, it doesn’t matter if you have one room or ten. If you’re not, Buckingham Palace would feel oppressive. New York City is exciting, but it can choke the life out of you.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “You don’t like living in the city?”

“It was convenient in the beginning. I prefer my space to be the open kind. A small house on a large piece of land. I just never got around to looking for what I wanted.”

Charlie raised a skeptical brow. “Oh, sure. I can just see you puttering around in the garden in your pin-striped sui
t and knee pads, a pack of rug-rats with runny noses making mud pies at your feet and a station wagon to run to the PTA meetings in with the little woman.”

“Is that such an unbelievable scenario?”

“It doesn’t seem like you,” she said.

“Looks can be deceiving. You’re a perfect example of that.”

“What do I look like?”

“Right now, you look ridiculous with that crown on.” He reached out and pulled it off her head. Her curls sprang free and fell around her face. She went to push back her hair but Damian took hold j of her wrist. “Don’t. You look beautiful.”

Charlie made a face. “You should use your insurance policy to get new glasses for yourself.”

“Don’t do that,” he said sharply.

“What?”

“Don’t put yourself down. You have so much going for you. You’re intelligent, funny . . .”

“If you say I have a great personality, I’ll hit you.”

“No, that wasn’t what I was going to say. But to keep myself out of trouble, I’ll quit while I’m ahead.”

She arched her eyebrow in question. “I want to know what you were going to say.”

“No, you don’t,” he assured her.

“Yes, I do.”

Damian met her stubborn gaze. “I was going to say that you have the cutest little rear end I’ve ever seen.”

Charlie gasped. She had heard words to that effect before, but she never expected to hear it out of his mouth. Oddly, she didn’t find the compliment offensive coming from him. “Great. My best asset only becomes apparent when I’m leaving the room.”

“I didn’t say it was your best. You’ve got an incredible pair of . . .” He grabbed her hand as it came toward his head. “. . . eyes. I was going to say eyes. ”

“Oh,” she mumbled as the color flooded her face. She racked her brain to come up with a clever answer, then realized she had another problem. Without her being aware of it, Damian had pulled her into his arms.

She looked down at the large hands resting on her waist.

“Am I making you nervous?” he asked.

“Not yet.”

“Let me know if that changes.”

Her curious stare met his patient, warming gaze and her heart skipped a beat. She took one deep breath to gather her courage. She could do this. Her hands tentatively cupped his broad shoulders. He certainly filled out a white oxford shirt to perfection.

She returned her attention to his handsome face. She lifted one hand, hesitated, and then ran it through the silky hair in back of his ear. He tilted his head to rest it in the palm of her hand.

Encouraged by his smile of pleasure, Charlie continued. She draped her arms across his shoulders and clasped her fingers behind his head. She leaned forward, pressing her chest into his.

His hand slipped around her back and slowly drew her closer until her hips rested against his thighs. Heat radiated from his body, blanketing her in warmth and comfort She tilted her head up and met his lips.

He covered her face with tiny kisses, then settled over her mouth. Using his tongue, he traced the outline of her tightly pursed lips. Her eyes flew open in surprise.

“Do you want me to stop?” His husky voice was barely a whisper.

Unable to speak, Charlie shook her head in denial.

“Open your mouth.”

She closed her eyes again and surrendered to his request. He slipped his tongue inside, filling her mouth and exploring the recesses. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but she certainly hadn’t counted on the intense rush of pleasure. The blood coursed through her veins, heightening every nerve ending. She was intensely aware of the hard lines of his body against hers.

The new sensations that surged through her gave Charlie a boldness she hadn’t known she possessed. She returned his kiss, enjoying the surprising sweetness of the moment. Her hands slid from his shoulders to his back. Solid muscles rippled beneath her fingertips. She became so heady at this newfound power over Damian that she forgot her basic science lessons. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. He slid his hand under her shirt along the small of her back.

Her muscles tightened. As his hand began to rise, so did her panic. Her body went rigid. She grabbed hold of his wrist and yanked it down. Damian raised his head. She hunched her shoulders apologetically and wriggled out of his embrace. “I’m sorry. I can’t”

He pulled her back in his arms and rocked her. “Okay.”

He stroked her hair tenderly. Her body trembled, more from humiliation than fear. “Are you angry with me?” she asked.

“Anger was not the emotion I had trouble handling,” he assured her. “It was the sudden heat wave.”

Charlie lowered her head. When was she going to get over her irrational fears? She was a twenty-five
-year-old woman behaving like a child. “You probably think I’m an idiot.”

He smiled. “I think you’re adorable.”

“You make me sound like a chubby baby,” she complained.

He ran his finger along the neckline of her tee
-shirt. Hooking the center with his thumb, he pulled the shirt away from her body and peeked in. “Nope. Not chubby. And definitely not a baby,” he said and patted the shirt back in place. “But definitely adorable.”

“Damian!”

His face lit up in a boyish grin. “You didn’t say I couldn’t look.”

She smacked her palm against his chest. “You don’t discourage easily, do you?”

“No. I don’t,” he returned with the slightest hint of warning.

Charlie wasn’t sure if she were annoyed or relieved. She couldn’t understand what the attraction was for him. He must know dozens of beautiful women who would be more than happy to have his attention. Why had he spent the last two Saturday nights sleeping on her floor?

She tilted her head back to find him gazing curiously at her. His piercing eyes burned with questions, but he didn’t voice them. He deserved some kind of explanation, but she couldn’t bring herself to discuss what she tried so hard to forget. “Are you going to feed me or are you going to wait until I faint from hunger?”

The last remaining bond of intimacy was broken. “I love it when you’re subtle and reserved.”

She laughed and stepped back out of his arms. “Erik told me that I reminded him of a poor, lost waif who needed protection . . . until I opened my mouth. Then, anyone in a five-mile radius needed protection from me.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself. Do you want to eat in the dining room or should we just put it on the coffee table?”

“The coffee table. I want to see the news,” she said, eyeing the giant-screen television at the far end of the room.

He took the bags from the counter and handed them to Charlie. “We could watch a movie.”

She started to remove the containers and neatly arrange them on the table. “No. I really have to get some studying in. If I keep hanging around you, I’ll blow my grade point average.”

Damian took two plates from the china cabinet and put them down on the coffee table. “I’ve been accused of many things, but never of being a bad influence.” He removed two pillows from the sofa and placed them on the floor, lowering himself onto one.

Charlie sat on the other and began opening the food. “I told you, you’re having a midlife crisis. Who knows what will follow?” She tentatively peeked into one of the containers. The delicate aroma of sautéed garlic made her realized how hungry she was. “What is this stuff?”

“Don’t ask. I’ll tell you when you’re finished.”

“I don’t eat what I can’t identify.”

“Escargot.”

Her smile faded. “Snails? Yuck. I knew we should have gone for pizza. How can you call yourselves the privileged class when you eat things that we lowly people use to clean our fish tanks? What else have you got?”

“Frog legs, breaded eels, and raw oysters. I know how you love seafood.”

She brought her hand to her stomach as a feeling of queasiness overcame her. “That’s not seafood. It’s a science experiment. No wonder you can’t get a date. I’ll just eat the bread.” She gazed up to find him laughing at her.

“The escargot is true. The rest I think you’ll be able to identify.”

“I knew I should have stayed home.”

“Why won’t you admit you had a good time today? Is it against your principles to have fun every once in a while?” Coming from a man who hadn’t taken a day off in ten years, she found his question rather amusing, not to mention hypocritical.

“You, of all people, should understand. I’ve got one shot at an education. I’ll have the rest of my life to have fun. For eight years I’ve worked in crummy jobs and lived in one-room apartments. And those were the good years. I’m never going back to that.” She stopped and made a conscious effort to tame the vehemence in her voice. “In answer to your question, yes I enjoyed myself today, but the timing was bad.”

He nodded sadly. “You’re right, I do understand. What bothers me is that I chose my lifestyle; you didn’t get a choice. It shouldn’t have been like that.”

“You can’t change that now.”

“I know. But I would like to make the rest easier for you.”

“You could help me with my studying. That would make my life easier.”

He shook his head, frustrated by her deliberate misinterpretation of his offer. “That wasn’t what I meant”

“I know,” she said softly. “But I can’t accept anything else from you.” Anything that could be used to assuage his guilt. His time was the only thing he could give her that came from the heart. And that’s what she really wanted from Damian Westfield. She wanted his heart.

* * * *

The train pulled into the station at 8:30 A.M. Not bad for rush hour, Charlie thought. She’d left Manhattan less than an hour before. Although the room in Damian’s apartment was one of the most comfortable she’d even stayed in, she’d had difficulty sleeping. In the past eight years, she had never spent the night in another person’s home.

At six o’clock she had awakened and begun pacing the room. By six-thirty she had tried to make as much noise as possible to awaken her host. Finally, at seven o’clock she had given up and decided to take the train back home.

She slung the knapsack over her shoulder and briskly walked the half mile to her apartment The morning sun hung low in the sky. Yellow and red tulips lined the row houses in the small college town. It was hard to imagine that in a few short weeks her college life would end.

Getting a degree had been her one dream, her singular goal for the past four years. She had never expected that she would feel melancholy about graduation. With the exception of Erik and Shelly, she had made no close ties. Why did she suddenly feel sad to be leaving a place that had no apparent emotional hold on her? Maybe she wasn’t so different after all. Like every other senior, graduation meant growing up and moving on.

With her thoughts preoccupied, Charlie strolled right past her apartment building. She was half a block beyond before she realized her mistake. It could happen to anyone, she tried to convince herself. Anyone who was thinking about a man instead of concentrating on where she was going, a tiny voice mocked back. She ran up the sidewalk, cursing her own foolishness.

She entered her apartment, disappointed to find Shelly sitting in the living room. With exams so close, she had hoped to get a few hours of studying in before her first class.

“Hi, Shell.” She tossed her knapsack on the kitchen counter.

“Don’t you ‘hi, Shell’ me. You’d better have a damn good excuse for staying out all night. Your maniac brother dragged me all over the place looking for you.”

Charlie caught her bottom lip in her teeth to stop from laughing. She should have known Erik would try to see her. “I’m sorry, Shelly. I didn’t think he’d go off the deep end because his older sister didn’t come home for the night.”

Shelly slid over to allow Charlie to share the sofa. “He thinks you’re off somewhere in a fit of depression.”

“About what?”

Shelly frowned. “Then you haven’t spoken to Damian yet?”

“Oh, that.” So much had happened since Damian had come to see her on Saturday. She’d forgotten that she intended to kill Erik for spilling the truth.

“Oh, that,” Shelly mimicked incredulously. “Erik’s been making himself sick with worry and you aren’t upset that he told Damian about your relationship?”