Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller) (15 page)

Charlie choked back a nervous laugh. “I know that, too. I told him to leave me alone.”

“Is that what you want, Charlotte?”

Charlie drew her eyebrows together and frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“Do you want him to leave you alone?”

She pushed her hair behind her ear. Their relationship had gotten complicated in such a short time. She had thought that the novelty of her being Erik’s half-sister would wear off for Damian after a few days and he would go back to his old way of life. “I don’t know. I don’t want to make his relationship with his mother any worse.”

“Monica packed him off to boarding school when he was only seven years old and made Peter the center of her world. If being with you makes Damian happy, then Monica will have to live with it. I’m more interested in what your motives are.”

Charlie felt stung by the question and had to bite back an angry reply. He obviously cared very deeply for Damian. Naturally he would be suspicious of her motives.

“If you’re asking if I resent you daughter, the answer is yes. If you’re asking me whether I’m looking for revenge, the answer is no. I have no intention of doing anything to hurt Damian—or Erik either, for that matter.”

John nodded.

Charlie tried to figure out why she was defending herself to the nosey old man. Not one member of Damian’s family had the right to question her motives. Still, she felt the need to explain herself to him. Maybe she cared more than she wanted to admit.

She folded her arms around her bent knees and returned her attention to the paintings. Why had Peter chosen these two to leave to Erik? Such intimate portraits of a strange woman. Were they meant to be some kind of clue? Was it Peter’s way of getting even with Monica for forcing him to choose or was he so insensitive that he didn’t care?

And why save the papers that belonged to her mother on the odd chance that someday she might want to know? Were there answers contained in the old documents to the questions that had plagued her for so many lonely years? More important, was she ready to find out?

“She was a very beautiful woman,” John said, cutting into her distracted thoughts.

* * * *

“Not as beautiful as her daughter,” Damian added as he returned to the living room.

He offered her a hand up from the floor. She still clutched the faded envelope in her arm. Strangely, she hadn’t even peeked into the contents. Anyone else would have been overcome with curiosity. Charlie sensed that she was at a crossroad and the path she took now would alter the rest of her life.

Damian knew that he should tell her what he knew from Raymond regarding her parents. But to reveal the source would be to admit to knowing all of her past. Her trust in him was fragile at best and he couldn’t face the possibility that it would be shattered before it had time to get stronger.

“Where’s that silly woman with our coffee?” John grumbled. “I swear, your mother hired her to drive me crazy. Did she go to Colombia to pick the beans herself?”

“It’s coming, Grandfather. Be patient,” Damian gently chided.

John waved his hand in the air. “Oh, pooh. I’m eighty years old. I don’t have time to be patient. I’ll get it myself.”

Charlie and Damian exchanged amused glances. As John disappeared through the doorway, Damian extracted the envelope from her hands and placed it on the coffee table. He locked his fingers through hers and pulled her toward the sofa. “So . .

“A needle pulling thread?” she sang off-key.

“And I was worried that your clever repartee had deserted you.”

Charlie cast him a dubious look. “You mean you prayed my smart mouth had failed me.”

“I was trying to be tactful.”

Tiny flecks of gold danced in her midnight eyes. “Since the day you came crashing into the bar and forced me on a date, tact has never been a virtue I’ve associated with you. There’s no point in starting now.”

“You’re right.” He dropped her hands and pushed her back into the plush sofa. “Now sit there like a good little woman and hold your tongue. I want to have a conversation with you.”

“How can we have a conversation if you’re the only one talking?”

Damian flopped down next to her in an undignified manner and growled, “Someday that mouth of yours is going to land you in a lot of trouble.”

“Only if you’re lucky.”

“Charlie ...”

She leaned into his shoulder and closed her eyes. “I’m not ready to talk about it, Damian. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now, so I couldn’t begin to explain it. But I’m okay.”

“And the envelope? Are you okay about that, too?”

She sniffed, and he realized she was crying. “I don’t plan to open it until after graduation. One problem at a time is all I can handle.”

He lifted her onto his lap and cradled her in his arms. Her body trembled, she gulped for air and exhaled slowly to regain control. He knew that she preferred to keep a tight rein on her emotions. So tight that she had successfully buried them for years.

Somewhere in that youth home, Charlotte Lawson had given up and Charlie Simone had taken over. Tough, angry, and scornful of human contact. Erik had put the first chink in her armor, and day by day the facade was cracking further. Damian hoped that Charlotte would soon be free again.

He wanted to be there for that. He wanted to see a smile that reached her eyes. Hear a laugh that touched her heart. And feel a kiss that rocked her soul.

He didn’t want much.

He wanted it all.

CHAPTER
TEN

Charlie spread the Sunday Times out across the living room floor. With exams finished and graduation one short day away, she had to get serious about the future. She lay down in the center of the floor, searching the classifieds for an apartment. Damian sat on the sofa with the financial section, drinking coffee. When he stood up to refill his cup, his foot landed on an ad Charlie was about to circle. She grabbed his ankle and sent him tumbling to the floor. “Get off my classifieds.”

Damian inhaled sharply and tried to regain his dignity. Not an easy task while she was laughing at him, she silently noted. He stretched his tall frame across the papers and rested his cheek on his hand. “What are you looking for?”

“An apartment.” She sat up, crossed her legs Indian style, and took her notepad from the coffee table. “You never told me how much this job pays. How can I figure out a budget if I don’t know how much I’m taking in?”

“Why are you looking for an apartment? I thought we settled that.”

“Settled what? I have to be out of this one at the end of July. The only thing we agreed on was my staying at your apartment a few nights during the week while you are away on business. To take care of the plants, of course.”

“Oh, naturally.” He reached out and pulled her down alongside of him. The papers rumpled beneath her, sticking to her bare legs on the humid June morning. “Why do you have to be so damned proud? Would you let me help you?”

Charlie made a face and pulled the paper from her leg. “I have to do it by myself. I have to know I can take care of myself before I think about someone else taking care of me.”

“I was only suggesting you stay until you’re on your feet, and have a little money put away for things like furniture.”

She poked her finger into his shoulder and pushed him onto his back. He caught her wrist and pulled her down on top of him. Her long hair fell across her face and she tossed it back before resting her head on his chest.

“You seem to be under the mistaken impression that I am destitute. I have some money saved, and a credit card for that matter. Until last year, I was working full time and attending college part time. I even owned a car, but I had to sell it when I moved here because the car insurance in New Jersey is ridiculous.”

“Then why did you tell me you couldn’t afford to go to the doctor when you were so sick?”

“The money is in a C.D. that I can’t cash until August first. And I wasn’t that sick. It waited until the following day.”

Damian cupped her chin in his fingers and tilted her head back. He arched one eyebrow and dared her to lie again.

Charlie shook her head and sighed. “Because I have the same reaction to a doctor that I have to men in general. The last doctor who tried to put a stethoscope down my shirt nearly lost his two front teeth.”

She thought she noticed him fighting back a smile. Having been on the receiving end a few times himself, he must have felt sympathy for the stunned physician who was only doing his job. She only went to female doctors, but the emergency room wouldn’t offer a choice.

“Maybe you should find someone to talk to, Charlie.”

“About what?”

“About your past”

Her body went cold. She tried to slide off him, but he hooked his arms through hers. “Let me go, Damian.” She squirmed and twisted to free herself. “Stop it, Charlie. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Her dark eyes smoldered. “You think I’m crazy because I won’t jump into bed with you.”

“I think there is a reason you’re afraid to trust men. Obviously, you can’t talk to me about it. Perhaps someone who is trained to deal with—” He cut off his sentence.

“With emotionally disturbed people? That’s what you mean. Damn it, Damian, let me go right now or I’ll scream the whole place down. You promised me that when I said stop, you’d stop.”

* * * *

Damian dropped his hand immediately and she backed herself into the wall. That had not gone the way he’d hoped. He couldn’t even correct her misunderstanding because the truth would make her more upset

The papers crumpled beneath him as he stood up. “Come on, Charlie.” He offered his hand to her. “I won’t talk about it again.”

Vacant eyes stared back at him. “I’m never going back to one of those places. They locked me up once for something I didn’t do. They’re never going to do it again.”

Her barely whispered words stabbed him like a knife. What had followed for Charlie had been more devastating than the assault itself. She associated getting help with being punished. “I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone lock you up. And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”

He held his arms out and suppressed the urge to reach for her. She had to come to him or she would never believe his word.

Her arms dropped slowly to her sides. She kept her gaze averted, clenching and unclenching her fists. He wondered briefly if she were considering landing one of her fists in his face. “So, Mr. Westfield, how much does this job of mine pay?”

He expelled the deep breath he’d been holding in. Perhaps she was beginning to trust him. One week ago she would have shown him the door. “Do you think you might try to look a little less threatening when you ask me that question?”

She forced a smile. “I don’t think it’s professional to throw myself in your arms and ask.”

“No one could ever accuse you of sleeping your way up the corporate ladder.” He cursed himself the second the words were out. “I’m sorry. It was a bad joke.”

To his surprise, she laughed. “It was a good joke. It’s your timing that stinks.”

“It seems to be the story of my life lately.” He inched closer.

She cast him a suspicious glance, then slipped in under his outstretched arm and leaned into him.

“Let’s be fair about it,” he said. “You look up in the classified ads how much a similar job pays and that’s what you’ll make.”

“How much does your current payroll clerk make?”

“It’s not the same. She doesn’t handle commission checks, but I’ll expect you to do that. I told you, there are no free lunches for you.”

“When do I start, slave driver?”

“Next Monday will be fine.”

A flash of disappointment crossed her face. “Not sooner?”

“You only graduate tomorrow evening. Don’t you want a few days off?”

“To do what?”

“I don’t know. I have a week’s vacation starting tomorrow. Here I am with my first vacation in ten years and I don’t know what I’m going to do either.”

“I hear there are some thrilling massage parlors around the Port Authority,” she offered helpfully.

“Not my thing. The only time I go near that area is for the theater. And I just happened to come across two tickets to The Lion King. Of course, you’re not interested in taking some time off.”

Anger forgotten, Charlie waved an accusing finger in his face. “You play dirty. You talked to Erik, didn’t you?”

Damian smiled down at her. “Me? Would I do something like that?”

“He’s the only one who knew how much I wanted to see that.” Charlie shook her head. “What else have you already planned?”

“What makes you think I planned anything? Ten minutes ago I wasn’t sure you were going to speak to me again.”

“Damn you, Damian. You’re such a jerk and then you turn around and do something that makes it impossible to stay angry with you.”

He grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”