Bedeviled Read online

  “Ooh, wait,” she barked, holding a hand against his chest to stop him. “I just put on this lipstick and I want it to last at least a few minutes, please.”

  “I’ll buy you a new lipstick,” Alex promised as he took Charlotte into his embrace and kissed her firmly on the mouth. Once she relaxed into it, he softened his lips upon hers, coaxing her response with his tongue, exploring the recesses of her mouth, reaching every sensitive nerve ending as his hands moved relentlessly up and down her back, pulling her tighter against his hard body with each pass.

  When they pulled apart Charlotte looked dazed for a moment, standing still as Alex ruffled through her tiny handbag until he found a tiny tube of color. Then he turned her silently from his arms and gave her a gentle push back to the bathroom to repair her lipstick, laughing under his breath as she wandered out of sight.

  With no further mishaps to her appearance, the couple made an entrance at Les Nomades, looking elegant together and turning heads as they moved to their table. Charlotte tried not to stare at the décor, the people or the elegantly plated dishes as she walked through the restaurant but once they were seated she dropped her sophisticated façade.

  “Alex, do you have your phone? I forgot mine and I want to be sure to get pictures of the food presentation and the room to send my brother. He would love this place. It is just the kind of elegance he wants to achieve as a chef.”

  “Of course,” Alex handed her his phone, took it back to unlock it with his thumbprint, then handed it back again. “You know you could just point him to their website.”

  Charlotte laughed and handed back the phone. “Of course I could,” she said, laughing at herself.

  “So, your brother prefers traditional French to more hip cuisines?”

  “My brother is like something straight out of old Europe, all tradition and history,” Charlotte admitted.

  “Where do you think he gets that influence?” Alex asked her as he was handed the extensive wine list. He allowed his eye to wander down the list for a few quiet moments before selecting both a bottle of white and red for them.

  “That is a lot for just the two of us,” Charlotte observed with surprise.

  “Then we can share it,” Alex responded cryptically. “So, you didn’t answer me about your brother. Has he spent a lot of time in Europe?”

  “Not really, although he did spend a semester of school cooking in Paris.”

  “Well, that would explain it.” Alex seemed content with the answer and Charlotte relaxed back against the cushioned banquette, the menu hiding her relieved expression.

  Everything I say is a potential minefield. Alex asks too many damn questions. Keep your head, Charlotte.

  Safely turning the conversation to food, Alex offered to get the five-course prix-fixe dinner while Charlotte got four courses, but they agreed to choose all different dishes so that Charlotte could taste everything. Alex recommended some of his favorites- the Pates Maison appetizer, the lobster and shrimp salad and the duck– then warned her to save room for a soufflé dessert.

  “It all looks heavenly,” Charlotte breathed on a sigh. “How on earth am I supposed to choose?”

  “You are such a contradiction to me,” Alex confessed, leaning forward on his elbows to move closer to Charlotte across the table. “You come from a privileged background yet you act as if a dinner like this is a rare and special event.”

  “Dinner like this is a rare and special event, Alex,” Charlotte explained as a blush stained her cheeks. “For me, cooking at home was always the norm, fancy dinners out were always unusual. My family gathered together around the dinner table, discussing their days, helping in the kitchen…”

  “No cooks? No housekeepers?”

  “We were the cooks. Why else would my brother choose to become a chef?”

  “I guess I had not really thought about that. Upscale restaurants were the norm in my world. I never even asked your preference though. Do you prefer to eat at home?”

  “I like doing both,” Charlotte answered easily. “With you,” she added under her breath before taking his hand across the tablecloth and squeezing it. “Besides, you are helping me to explore the best of Chicago cuisine. How on earth can I complain about that?”

  They ordered from the attentive server, sipped a fabulous crisp white wine with their fish course, then the fruity red with the duck and venison. They laughed and talked together until, over the soufflé, raspberry for her, Grand Marnier for him, they finally discussed her return home. It was like a wet blanket being thrown over their effervescent evening.

  Lightening the mood for a moment, Alex offered the remainder of red wine to the table beside them, while Charlotte enjoyed the couple’s surprise and delight. Then they offered the white wine to the server to share with the kitchen. They had made a dent in both bottles, but neither of them was the least bit tipsy.

  ‘We have done well living together Charlotte, and I really like having you in my place. You fit there. I don’t see why you need to leave.”

  “Alex, are you suggesting I move in with you?” Charlotte’s shock at the offer was apparent in her voice, along with her skepticism.

  “You could keep your apartment if it made you more comfortable, but why not move the rest of your things in and take up with me?”

  “How long have you been thinking about this?”

  “Since today,” he admitted.

  “Alex, you haven’t had any time to think this through. We haven’t even discussed it or the details of how it might work. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

  “We are discussing it now, Charlotte, and believe me, I am not being light about it in any way. You and I are both very private people. I get that, but we are not children. I am almost 37 years old. I want to get married, have a family. I think you do, too. It may be too soon to know if I am the one for you, but I think living together is a good next step.”

  “You want to marry me?” Charlotte asked, stunned. She couldn’t believe that this famous playboy wanted to settle down at all, let alone settle down with her. This was certainly not the romantic proposal of marriage she had dreamed of all her life.

  “I want you to move in with me,” Alex corrected. “Then we can see where things go. I think we show promise, together. That is all I am saying.”

  “Show promise? That sounds very business-like, Alex.” Where was the romance Charlotte always envisioned?

  The more she acted surprised and concerned, the more impatient Alex seemed to become and the conversation began to escalate noticeably in the quiet restaurant.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Alex said, taking Charlotte’s hand and helping her up from the table, holding on to it firmly until she was seated in the car.

  “Is the idea so impossible to you?” he attacked in the dark silence. “Can you honestly say you never even considered it?”

  “I did think of it,” she admitted quietly, “I thought about it a lot, if I am being completely honest, but you never even mentioned it so I stopped thinking about it. This has completely blindsided me, Alex.”

  He was silent in the driver’s seat, but his driving was a reflection of his emotions, aggressive and impatient. Charlotte wanted to talk about this rationally, but she sensed that Alex’s feelings were too hurt. She had made him feel rejected and defensive.

  “Alex,” she began cautiously after a full minute of total silence. “I love the idea of living with you. We just need to think it through. I need to consider timing, logistics. I need to be mentally ready to make that commitment and besides all of that, I have six more months on my lease.”

  Finally, Alex smiled and the tension was broken. “You’re right of course. I was too impetuous asking like this. We need to talk it through and plan.”

  “Yeah, you are usually the logical one. I am not sure I have seen you be impetuous before.”

  “You’re right. I am usually the most logical person I know, Charlotte. People seek me out for advice and counsel because th
ey can count on me to be dispassionate in problem solving. This is all your fault,” he accused.

  “My fault? What did I do?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You swept me off my feet and now I can’t think straight.”

  Charlotte laughed at Alex and he joined in.

  “Laugh all you want but it’s true. You know me. I am like Mr. Spock, weighing options, without any emotion. You, Charlotte Roche, have turned my brain to mush.”

  “I would apologize,” Charlotte offered, “but you have made me worse.”

  They held hands in the darkness, his long fingers stroking the palm of her hand, sending frissons of desire deep into her body just from the small movement.

  “So, my place?” he asked when he had to choose a right or left turn ahead.

  “I think we should keep it as planned for tonight. It’s time for me to go home. At least for a day or two so I can think straight,” Charlotte said gently. She could feel Alex’s disappointment radiate off his body, mirroring her own. But she held steadfast. “You are heading to L.A. this week anyway. Besides, I need to check on the place if nothing else.”

  Alex agreed reluctantly and soon he was parking illegally in front of her building, unloading the first wave of her belongings. He had arranged for someone to bring the rest over later in the week, thinking he would never actually need the services.

  Alex carried a light bag in one hand and helped Charlotte up the steep front steps with the other while she fumbled in her small purse for keys. Holding them up proudly she unlocked the door and pushed it open, stopped to pick up the last few days worth of mail that Jo had not already delivered to her, then moved slowly up the inside stairs to her walk-up apartment.

  Charlotte opened the double lock and pushed the door far enough to reach inside for the wall switch. When the lights came on in the apartment, she gasped and fell back against Alex. Alex shoved Charlotte behind him, not sure what he would see until she no longer blocked his view.

  The apartment was in a shambles. There was broken glass across the floor from a window that had obviously been the point of entry, papers strewn everywhere, overturned furniture. Cabinet doors sat gaping open, their contents spilled to the floor in front of them.

  “Stay here,” Alex ordered as he moved into the apartment on silent feet. Charlotte tried to convince him not to go in. “What if someone is still here?” she asked clinging to his arm. Alex waited a minute, listening carefully, but there was silence.

  “I mean it Charlotte, don’t move,” he commanded as he stepped carefully over the broken glass and into the dining room. Charlotte lost sight of him and her heart beat out of her chest until he emerged safely again. When he moved in the direction of the bedrooms, she held her breath. Silence.

  After what felt like a lifetime, Alex emerged again and signaled for her to enter. “Don’t touch anything,” he ordered. “I have called the police and they are on their way. You’ll need to figure out what’s missing.”

  “You called already? Really?” Charlotte asked, but she didn’t actually sound surprised. “I don’t know what good the police will be until I look around.” She was unusually calm.

  “Charlotte, what’s going on? You don’t seem surprised. Do you know who did this?” Alex helped her to a chair that was still upright and gently lowered her to the cushion. She looked like a warrior princess, dressed elegantly but with a fierce expression on her face that brooked no argument.

  “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath as they heard sirens growing closer.

  When the police arrived, they first questioned Alex who explained that Charlotte had been away from home for weeks. He could not pinpoint when this might have occurred. When the police questioned Charlotte, they focused on what was missing. A quick look around the small space followed by a cursory inspection revealed that the expensive TV was unharmed, right where she had left it. Her desktop computer and the small amount of jewelry she owned were also safely in place. It seemed that nothing was stolen.

  “Is there anyone who might want to harm you, Ms. Roche?” the young officer asked politely. “Have you received any threats?”

  “No, nothing. Perhaps it was all a mistake? Maybe someone had the wrong apartment?”

  “We should check the answering machine, just in case,” the officer suggested.

  “It’s broken.”

  Alex gave Charlotte a surprised look. She didn’t dare make eye contact. Alex would know that the answering machine had been working when she moved in with him. He had used it the night before she fell to schedule their run that morning.

  The police checked for fingerprints, increasing the mess with their black dust, took lots of photographs and notes. They promised to canvas the neighbors for information. Charlotte thanked them, then sat still and silent right where Alex had placed her.

  Alex thanked the two officers, shook hands with them and closed the door quietly before crossing the room and dropping to his haunches to be eye level with Charlotte.

  “You’ll come back to my place and Jo can arrange for a cleaning crew to get in here tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay,” Charlotte whispered through barely moving lips. She made no move to get up.

  “Do you need anything from here? What can I get to take back to my place?”

  “Nothing. But could you get me a glass of water, please?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry. I should have offered that before.”

  As soon as Alex was in the kitchen, Charlotte bolted from the chair and walked across the room to the answering machine. Hitting play she listened, holding her breath.

  “You have 27 messages,” the mechanical voice said, but as Charlotte played them, all she heard was hang up after hang up. She kept pressing forward, trying to get through them before Alex returned from the kitchen. She was unaware he was already standing in the doorway watching her when the message finally held a voice.

  “I warned you, Querida. I warned you in the park and I am warning you now. It’s time to stop pretending. It’s time to come home. Don’t make me hurt you.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Charlotte turned to see Alex standing in the doorway white as a sheet, fury radiating from every pore. Clearly, he had heard the message. She was shaking and so pale that Alex feared she would faint. He wanted to help, moving to take her in his arms before stopping himself. He suddenly feared he was in over his head.

  “Charlotte?” he approached warily, like she was a hurt animal, or a threat.

  “Thanks for the water,” she said in a strong voice, taking it from his hand and gulping it down. “I needed that.”

  “Charlotte, tell me, what is going on?”

  “My place has been trashed and we are getting out of here. That’s what,” she responded crisply. She said nothing about the phone message and Alex battled with himself about how to broach the subject. He just assumed that Charlotte would offer the information, unburden herself to him, but she said nothing. He was wary of sounding too accusatory, but she owed him an explanation.

  “I guess I have everything I need at your place,” was all she offered, picking up the small bag, the mail she had just retrieved and moving to turn off lights. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Alex took the bag from Charlotte and followed her back down the stairs and to his car. Just before he pulled away from her building he looked her full in the face. “What’s going on Charlotte? Who is trying to hurt you?”

  “What are you talking about, Alex? I told you. I suspect someone realized they were in the wrong apartment, or it was a robbery that was interrupted. I am sure it was nothing personal.”

  “Nothing personal?” Alex was incredulous. Was she going to pretend that they had not both heard that threatening phone message? Had Charlotte also lied to the police? What the hell was going on? Alex was so certain he knew this woman. He had just asked her to move into his apartment. He believed he might be falling in love with her.

  Falling for whom, though? That’s the question.
This woman is a complete stranger.

  “Charlotte, you know if you are in any kind of trouble you can talk to me. You can tell me anything – anything at all. I am there for you. I want to protect you and keep you safe.” Alex had known she had a secret, but not one of this magnitude. Even as he told her he wanted to keep her safe, he wondered if he could.

  But the quiet, frightened Charlotte who sat down in her trashed apartment had disappeared and a phoenix had arisen from her ashes, with a ramrod straight back and an impenetrable expression on her face. He did not know this woman sitting beside him in the close interior of his small car.

  “Seriously, Alex, you sound just like the hero in a novel, ready to slay dragons for me. Sorry, but I have no dragons. Perhaps I could find a ferocious dog so you can save me.” Her words were biting and sarcastic, causing Alex to recoil. Alex felt as if she had slapped him in the face.