Bedeviled (Beguiling Bachelors Book 3) Read online

  All that from a kiss. Maybe I just should have been injured sooner. If I had known what a good kisser he would be…

  Charlotte forgot all about her injuries and focused on the power of that drugging kiss. Snuggling deeper into the soft Egyptian cotton, she drifted into a deep and dreamless

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Ten days later Charlotte was recovering well and moving as freely about Alex’s opulent home as if she lived there. She kept telling him she was doing well enough to return home but he insisted she stay through the end of the week. He played on her guilt by reminding her that he had cancelled his business trip to be there caring for her, and his ploy worked.

  She didn’t fight him much.

  She had to admit that life was far easier for her being in his condo. She had Joanne to handle everything outside the apartment, from refilling medication prescriptions to arranging a car to get her to and from her doctor’s visits.

  Although she never asked him to, Brian started carrying files to and from the LHRE offices for her, helping with various tasks and even creating a PowerPoint presentation. The two assistants worked long hours and were clearly devoted to their boss. By extension, these days they were equally devoted to her.

  I could get used to this.

  The refrigerator was stocked with healthy foods – and a few unhealthy snacks at her specific request – and the kitchen was far superior to her own. She was living in the lap of luxury and she knew it. She basked in an incredibly decadent soak in the extra deep tub in her bathroom, piping in the music of her choice while sipping a glass of Alex’s fine wine as soon as she was able, then she interspersed that with the moist heat of the steam shower. It was heavenly.

  She was quickly back to work, but now she reviewed financial documents from Alex’s landscaped outside decks, moving from chaise to couch to table as the sun shifted and the day progressed. The outdoor space was as elegant as the indoors, with comfortably upholstered rattan or teak furniture, weather-safe rugs and professionally groomed gardens still colorful with golden delphiniums and mums.

  She regularly mixed sitting in the sunshine with work, spreading her files on the table safely weighted by a cup or garden rock. She would sit there lost in the unobstructed views of Chicago, appreciating the background music and an outstanding Wi-Fi connection. She spent more time doing research on the sites below than on the real estate business.

  After following the sun throughout the day, Charlotte would marvel in the fiery sunsets each evening. They felt close enough to touch, painting the sky in shades of reds, pinks and oranges. She tried photographing them with the camera in her phone then complained when she failed to capture the majesty. On the nights he was home, she encouraged Alex to share in the beauty of the moment, pouring them each a glass of wine and standing beside him quietly as they bid the day farewell.

  I could definitely get used to this.

  Of course, there were the security aspects that could never be taken for granted. No one phoned her directly except on her cellphone. No one came through the door that had not been approved by Alex, Joanne or herself and keyed into the elevator by a doorperson. She felt the stress leave her body when she remembered that, and she slept better for having the added protection. How would she give that up and go back to looking over her shoulder every minute of the day?

  Charlotte and Alex were almost like an old married couple by now, sexless, comfortable together, able to finish each other’s sentences. There had been no repeat or escalation of that first night’s kiss, although she tried to give him small hints she would welcome more. Sometimes Charlotte would find him looking at her like he could devour her, but he kept his hands – and those magical lips - to himself. Alex seemed to have rethought things and he kept a disappointing distance.

  She knew his routine by heart. He rose no later than 5:30 and went for a run. With the marathon closing in, he would be gone until 8:00, then he showered and went to the office but never before he made her coffee, carrying it to her in bed. He looked elegant and aloof in his Brioni suits, while she lay rumpled – and she had hoped inviting – in his guest bed. He would crisply announce his schedule for the remainder of the day, sometimes promising to come home in mid-afternoon, but often reluctantly telling her he had dinner meetings. He had been right when he told her he dined with clients a lot. He was gone at least twice a week, more often three or four nights, and Charlotte knew he was declining invitations when he could in order to be home with her.

  Although he rarely ate at home, he had Joanne stocking the refrigerator constantly. She would arrive at the condo promptly at 8:30 so that she crossed paths with Alex before he left for his office. Most days, she would work from the condo, sitting behind his desk like she owned it and efficiently managing their lives. Charlotte enjoyed having her there. Alex never said it, but Charlotte knew he didn’t want her left alone.

  Joanne would join her for a breakfast of eggs, cereal, yogurt and every imaginable juice in the fridge. “Alex believes in the power of fruit juice. He believes it cures everything,” she told Charlotte with a laugh.

  “No wonder he drinks so much of it.”

  When she felt better, Charlotte started baking scones and muffins to add to the breakfast menu. She was a natural in the kitchen and the baked goods disappeared quickly.

  The two women became close friends quickly, sitting over those breakfasts. “You are so down to earth,” Jo told Charlotte one morning. “When I heard you had double Harvard degrees, and the Roche name, I just assumed you would be a snob.”

  “Thank you, I think,” Charlotte laughed. “I am just a normal person. My family loves to sit around a table laden with great food, and laugh. I miss them. All that eating was why I started running in the first place. I needed to burn off a ton of calories.”

  “I’ll have to be careful too, if we keep eating like this,” Jo laughed and patted her flat stomach. “Do you miss them terribly? I can’t imagine living without everyone close by.”

  “My family? Oh yes, very much. I am very close with my brothers and my parents are very protective. I talk to them every day. They would be happier knowing how I spend every single second of the day but I have not told them about the accident. They would be too worried. I am overdue for a visit though, so I have to get out of this boot. How about you? What is your family like?”

  “Big. I have seven brothers and sisters, all still here in Chicago. In fact, my older sister, Clarice, is good friends with Keeli Larsen. That is how I found out about this job.”

  “Clarice Washington? I have seen her sculptures. In fact, I think that is one of her pieces in the hallway, right? She’s amazing. Wow, you two couldn’t be more different.”

  “Oh no, except for our jobs, we are really alike. Clarice is incredibly focused and organized, like me. I grew up following her and my brother, Ronnie, around like a puppy. I wanted to be just like them.”

  “I don’t know your brother, but your sister is a great role model. I wish I had sisters, but my brothers are so dear to me.”

  Over the days of breakfasts, Charlotte learned about Jo’s education and her ambition, her fashion sense and her friends, and more about her boisterous family. Joanne learned about Charlotte’s work and her studies at Harvard.

  “You don’t share much, do you?” she finally asked one morning while she savored a warm apple cinnamon scone. “You and Alex have that in common.”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” Charlotte tossed off before she announced that she was late for therapy and limped away from the table.

  Charlotte had started physical therapy for her ankle and her wrist, three mornings a week. She was still dragging the heavy boot everywhere she went, and had some bruises that were still an ugly shade of yellow across her ribcage, but her face was back to normal and her hand and wrist had healed nicely. She felt that Dr. Levin was being overly cautious, but she went to therapy without complaint. She loved her therapist, Becky, and it was as close as she got to a workout, sweating th
rough what seemed like tiny exercises until she tried to do them.

  Regan and Ethan both came to visit and after the first few days they started conducting work from the patio or dining room table to accommodate Charlotte. Charlotte had assured everyone that she was well enough to return to work but Regan had insisted on meeting at the condo.

  “Alex has made it clear, Charlotte. He will kill me if I take you out of here without his express permission and he is nowhere close to giving it.” Regan’s no nonsense face told Charlotte that Alex was being adamant about her safety. Regan thought nothing of it, but Charlotte was grateful she had shared the information. It told her that Alex suspected something.

  Charlotte didn’t press the point. Soon she would return home and until then, she would have to do a better job convincing him that there was no one else in the park. And she would have to deal with the problems that she had avoided these last 10 days. Regan’s words were a jolting reminder. Just thinking about returning to her apartment, alone, set her shaking.

  Don’t think about him. Enjoy Alex and a few more days of blissful serenity.

  Charlotte knew that reality would be waiting for her and so she savored this time even more. She was well aware that he was still out there. She imagined him growing more frustrated, more enraged and more dangerous since she dropped out of sight. He didn’t like to be thwarted.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Charlotte’s social life was better than ever. Besides her growing friendship with Jo, Regan had taken to coming over, Tyler Winthrop in tow, with carry-in Chinese or pizza. Charlotte observed the two carefully and it was obvious to Charlotte that there was something happening between the childhood friends. Exactly what was anyone’s guess. The glances Regan and Tyler exchanged were either steamy or longing, but the conversation never strayed from the ordinary, even banal, chit-chat.

  Charlotte tried broaching the topic with Regan one afternoon, when she and Regan were taking a break from work. Sitting at a patio table under a large umbrella, Charlotte thanked Regan again for bringing dinner earlier in the week.

  “I had such a good time. It feels great to laugh again without being in pain,” Charlotte began. “Tyler seems so straight laced, but he is so funny. I would never have guessed.”

  “Oh yes. Tyler has many hidden depths,” Regan responded cryptically. “You would be surprised by how different Tyler is away from his work persona.”

  “Really? I am intrigued. Tell me a few of Tyler’s secrets,” Charlotte all but begged. Regan smiled serenely but she shut the conversation down completely.

  “You like him, don’t you, Regan? Is there something between you two?” Charlotte tried to push it, but she reminded herself that she really didn’t know Regan that well. Ultimately, Regan was her boss, not her friend, and she would do well to remember it. When Regan remained tightlipped, Charlotte dropped the subject. She also learned from the exchange. Charlotte too became reticent, declining to discuss her relationship with Alex, although she longed for some girl talk.

  In truth, she would not have known how to explain her relationship anyway. Alex was attentive and engaging, warm and friendly but he kept his distance unless he was helping her move about. Then he held her like a porcelain doll, gently and carefully. If she leaned into him, he let her. If she took his hand, he didn’t drop it. But he still made no overtures.

  Charlotte felt frustrated by their return to relationship uncertainty, but in every other way they were doing so well together, their ideas and plans so in synch, their personalities so well matched. After having decided to pursue him, then moving in and that scorching kiss, Charlotte was reluctant to just let things take their own course, but she did - adding a bit of prayer when she was alone.

  Each day, Charlotte would wander the gourmet kitchen in awe, preparing a nice dinner whenever Alex was home. She loved working in the space, obviously designed for a serious chef. She baked more than she cooked, trying new recipes for bread, muffins and the occasional serious pastries. But she cooked often, too, making healthy salads full of fruits and nuts and cheeses, and dinners of comfort foods like pastas, meatloaf and grilled chicken or beef. She introduced Alex to his huge gas grill, almost a second kitchen filling a corner of the patio, showing him how to grill steaks and spicy Chorizo sausages.

  One night Charlotte pulled Alex into the kitchen and together they roasted a whole turkey. They invited Wyatt, Keeli, Regan, Tyler, Sloane and Randall to sit down for the meal together. It could have been Thanksgiving, they kept teasing, but she loved watching all the friends together enjoying a meal she had prepared. She baked fresh bread and a squash casserole and the group marveled at her cooking skills. They fawned over dessert, suggesting she start a bakery. She turned scarlet at the comment, embarrassed by their praise.

  “If you had told me I would be eating a home cooked meal at your house, I would have said you were lying,” Randall teased Alex before turning to Charlotte. “Did you know he has his own table at every restaurant in town?”

  “Not every,” Wyatt corrected. “Only the really good ones.” “And a hot dog stand or two,” Tyler added.

  They all laughed easily, moving the conversation to new restaurants that were good and which ones were great. ”I am fine with the status quo, Charlotte. Don’t get him too used to home cooking,” Tyler told them. “This way I always get a table when I need one. I just use his name.”

  “He picks up the tab, too,” Randall added, getting a laugh as the group readily agreed.

  “Do you always pay for this motley crew?” Charlotte challenged. “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s the only way he gets our company,” Randall quipped with comedic timing, getting the laugh he sought.

  “He is the best restaurant critic around,” Keeli praised, “and Tyler is right about getting a table anywhere. Even the busiest place on a Saturday night will find a table if you drop Alex’s name.”

  “Actually, we had Alex to thank the night we met you, Charlotte,” Sloane announced. “It was his connections that got us the rooftop at Soho House on such short notice. He really is useful.”

  “For more than just reservations. He’s a damn fine goalie,” Tyler offered causing everyone but Alex to laugh.

  “C’mon guys,” Alex stepped in. “Don’t let Charlotte think that no one would want me without some pull at the right joint. I am trying to impress her.” He gave his friends a pleading look but was met with a long silence.

  “Nope,” Randall finally teased, “Can’t think of any other reason.”

  The group laughed when Alex’s face fell and they rushed in to heap praise on him after they regained their breath. “Smart”, “brilliant”, “logical” and “an incredible friend” were just a few of the compliments they paid him. Alex sat taller and beamed under the praise. Charlotte watched it all indulgently, learning more about each of the people sharing her meal and liking them enormously.

  They piled the dishes up for later and the group moved to the spacious living room, settling into the sofas with digestifs and coffee. Conversation and laughter swirled about the room. Keeli caught everyone up on her upcoming collection, a piece of which was twinkling on her finger. Sloane filled in the business gaps associated with the designer’s launch. That led to conversations about business in general, and the current financial climate in Chicago which segued to city politics and heated debates that had to be cooled repeatedly.

  It was after two in the morning when the group finally broke up. The time had flown by for Charlotte, standing arm in arm with Alex as the elevator door closed behind their friends. Standing in the quiet, Charlotte rested her head on Alex’s shoulder in contentment.

  “That was perfect.”

  “If someone else was cleaning up, it would be. But you were perfect.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “They all like you so much. You fit right in.”

  “Is that good or bad?” Charlotte teased, throwing a dishtowel at him and pointing at the cluttered countertops. Alex hated washing
the dishes, but he did it while she stood by and dried. He had suggested leaving everything for his cleaning staff, but Charlotte had insisted they clean up each night rather than leave the mess for morning. They worked well together in the kitchen, comfortably trading tasks, rehashing the highlights of the night until Charlotte was yawning repeatedly.

  “Let’s leave the last of these for morning,” Alex suggested bravely, turning down the lights and taking her by the arm. “You’ve certainly earned your sleep.”

  “I like your friends so much,” she mumbled as they moved down the hallway, shutting off lights.

  “Our friends, Charlotte. They are your friends now, too.”

  “Remember that first night we met? I didn’t even know Sloane yet there I was helping celebrate the sale of her business. Regan had to drag me there. She pretty much blackmailed me by reminding me that I was new to town and needed to make some friends.”