- -
- 100%
- +
“There are sexual harassment lawsuits.”
Roark laughed. “I didn’t say sleep with her.”
No, but that’s exactly where Vance’s mind had gone with absolutely no help. He’d been thinking about Charlie Potter for days and it wasn’t all about suspicion.
That hair of hers had become something of a fixation for him. He wanted to push his fingers through that long, thick mass of blond waves and feel the cool slide of it against his skin. And then there was the scent of her—something light and floral that seemed to cling to the air in the office even when she wasn’t in the room. The sound of her voice, the way her legs looked in those mile-high heels she wore … Yeah, she was on his mind way too much lately.
Shutting the mental door on those images, he said, “And if I find out she is guilty?”
“Then you fire her. Or,” Roark mused, “use her to give disinformation to Rothschild.”
“Use her and lose her—that’s what you’re saying?” Roark hadn’t even been raised as a Waverly and he had their sensibilities. Maybe it was in the blood. Hell, their own father—after recovering from the loss of his wife and daughter—had gone through women so quickly, there had practically been a revolving door on the Waverly house.
Vance had grown up in a love vacuum. His father had never again risked his heart and Vance had learned to do this same. Roark had been raised by a single mother, so maybe he hadn’t seen any evidence of love, either. Which just gave the brothers even more in common, Vance thought.
“Look,” Roark said, “if she’s guilty, you don’t owe her anything. If she’s innocent, you don’t have to do a damn thing. It’s a win-win.”
“I’ll think about it.” As if he’d been thinking about anything else lately anyway.
“Good. Let me know how it goes.” Roark put his sunglasses back on and dragged his brown leather jacket off the back of the seat. Pulling it on, he added, “I’m out of here in the morning. Got a flight to Dubai tonight and still have a few things to do before I go.”
“Dubai?” Vance smiled. His younger half brother was a master at turning up valuable items to sell at Waverly’s auctions. The downside? He was hardly ever in New York. He’d been around the globe so many times, he was on his third passport—he just kept filling them up with stamps.
“Yeah,” Roark said with a quick grin. “Got a lead on something amazing. I pull this off and Rothschild’s is out of luck. We’ll be so far on top, they’ll never be able to touch us.”
“What is it?” Intrigued, Vance looked at him and waited.
“A surprise,” Roark said. “It’ll be worth the wait. Trust me.”
He did. Funny, though they hadn’t grown up together, Vance felt closer to Roark than to anyone else he’d ever known. He looked at Roark and saw the family resemblance and wished to hell their father had told him about Roark years earlier. And wished Edward Waverly had sought out his second son himself before he’d died.
Roark was raised by a single mother who had refused to name his father. By the time Vance had found him and told him exactly who he was, Roark was his own man and unwilling to accept the truth as easily as Vance had. He wanted proof and who could blame him, really? But all Vance had was a note, written by their late father, and for Roark, that simply wasn’t enough.
Still, they were building a relationship and whether the younger man admitted it or not, they were family.
Vance threw down cash for the bill and walked out with his brother. Taxi horns blared, an ambulance wailed in the distance and the scent of cooking hot dogs drifted on a sullen breeze.
“Take care of yourself,” Vance said.
“Always do,” Roark assured him, then slapped Vance on the shoulder. “I’ll be back soon enough. And I’ve got the satellite phone on me all the time. If you need me, call.”
“Yeah. I will.” Vance watched Roark walk away until he was swallowed up by the crowds.
His brother, the rogue treasure hunter, was off on a quest. And Vance was about to start a quest of his own. Romancing the assistant. He frowned to himself as he joined a crowd of pedestrians to cross the street. He had a feeling that Roark’s job was going to be a hell of a lot less interesting than his own.
By that weekend, Charlie was at the end of her rope. She’d tied a knot and dug her fingernails in tight, but the rope was fraying and any second now she was going to—
“Lot 32,” the auctioneer called out.
She jumped, startled out of her thoughts. She’d had so much adrenaline shooting through her system this week she could probably fly to the moon and back on her own power.
Charlie took a breath, told herself to concentrate and carried a teak tray bearing a diamond-and-sapphire-studded tiara into the salesroom. Steering her thoughts away from the blackmailer now stalking her with daily, ever-more-threatening emails, she focused solely on the task at hand. She couldn’t afford to trip and fall and drop the tray, sending that tiara spiraling off to crash against a wall or something.
Oh, God. Just the thought of that made her stiffen up and slow her steps. The auctioneer turned to fix her with a glare as if to say, Get a move on, already.
She ignored him and stopped beside the podium, holding the tray at a slight angle that afforded the audience a nice view of the tiara.
Items too big or too fragile to be carried into the auction were displayed on a sixty-inch flat screen behind the auctioneer. But it was more traditional to carry lots like the tiara into the auction room so everyone could see the items up close.
Of course, the bidders had already had a chance to study the sale items. There had been a reception before the auction where the über-rich and celebrities could sip champagne and decide what they wanted to buy.
But as Charlie stood in front of the audience now, dressed in her tidy black suit, she felt everyone stir as if leaning in toward her for a better look at the tiara. And who could blame them? Under the lights, every single diamond sparkled like an individual star. The sapphires were so dark they looked almost black until the light hit them just right and they revealed a hue of blue so rich and deep it was like looking into the heart of the ocean.
Any other day, Charlie would be loving this. She would smile at the crowd as she walked down the center aisle so that people could take a closer look. She would move smoothly, slowly, proud to be a part of the Waverly’s tradition.
Today it was all she could do to remain upright.
She should have called in sick and skipped today’s auction. But she needed the extra money the overtime would bring her. And, more than that, she didn’t want her world disrupted. Didn’t want to be afraid, so she was pretending she wasn’t. Didn’t want to lose what she’d begun to build here, so she clung to that frayed and tired rope with everything she had.
“We’ll start the bidding at $35,000….”
The auctioneer went into his patter and Charlie zoned out again. She kept one corner of her mind on the task at hand, of course, walking to the front of the room once again and turning, holding the tray so that the lights caught the gems in just the right way.
But the other part of her mind was racing. Desperate to find a solution to her problem. Every day, she opened her email with fear and trepidation. And every day, her blackmailer was a little more curt. A little more dangerous. She hadn’t written back to him since that first day, hoping that he would think that she wasn’t getting his emails.
But even as she hoped and wished for it, she knew that wasn’t going to happen.
Whoever was emailing her wanted information and wasn’t going to go away until he or she got it. Which left Charlie exactly where?
Jail or out of a job? Losing her son?
Her heartbeat skittered in her chest and she felt a little faint. So she swallowed hard, locked her knees and held on. The bids came fast and furious. Red paddles lifted and lowered. Nods of the head. A wave of a hand. A cough. A phone ringing as anonymous bidders made their play for the stunning tiara. There was excitement, magic all around her, and Charlie didn’t feel any of it. Finally, beside her, the slam of the gavel made her jump.
“Sold for $75,000.”
That was Charlie’s signal to return the tiara to the holding room where its new owner would pick it up after the sale.
Justin took the tiara from her as soon as she returned.
“Thanks, sweetie. You’ve got time to sit down or something. I’ll need you again to take in lots 41 and 46.”
She forced a smile. “I’ll be here.”
“Hey.” Justin frowned at her. “You okay?”
God, was she that easy to read? How could she ever be a spy and sneak something out from under Vance Waverly’s nose if Justin—a man who barely looked up from the treasures he was in charge of—noticed right away that she wasn’t herself?
“I’m fine. Just a little hungry, I guess. Haven’t really eaten in a while. Didn’t have breakfast.”
“Well, go get something, honey.” He gave her an absent-minded pat on the arm. “We’ve got snacks set up for everyone in the break room.”
“Okay, I will.”
But Justin had already moved on. “Sam, put red velvet under the onyx rings. If you use black, who’s gonna see them?”
While the rest of the auction team bustled around in an organized manner, Charlie slipped off for some quiet. Some time to herself so she could think.
Trouble was, she’d been “thinking” for days about this problem and didn’t have a solution. Couldn’t figure out how to handle it. Didn’t know who to talk to about it, because no one here knew who she had been before coming to Manhattan. And that was how she wanted it to stay.
Charlie dropped into a chair beside the table loaded with sandwiches, cookies and cupcakes and idly picked up a snickerdoodle. She broke a corner of the cinnamon cookie off, popped it into her mouth and chewed—even though it tasted like sawdust.
Upstairs, Jake was playing in the day-care center. Her little boy was safe and happy. She had to keep him that way. But to do that, she would have to steal information from the people who trusted her to do her job. She was torn in two.
“Nothing’s that bad,” a deep voice said from the doorway.
She turned her head to see Vance Waverly standing there watching her. Her stomach did a quick pitch and roll and a hum of something hot and delicious swept through her. In the business suits he usually wore, Vance was too hot for words. Today, though, he was wearing black jeans, a white long-sleeved shirt and black boots, scuffed from long use. He looked not only hot … but dangerous. And so sexy her mouth went dry and she choked on the rest of the snickerdoodle.
Coughing, gasping, she thumped her chest with the flat of her hand as her eyes watered and she fought for air.
He came over, handed her a bottle of water and waited while she took a sip and the coughing eased off. Finally, when she was quiet, he smiled. And oh, that smile was absolutely devastating. Probably a good thing he didn’t do it often. No woman would be immune to a smile from Vance Waverly.
“Don’t think I’ve ever caused a woman to choke to death before.”
She frowned at herself. “You surprised me.”
“Clearly.” He tipped his head to one side. “You okay now?”
“Yeah.” She held the bottle of water in both hands. “Fine.”
“Good.” He pulled out a chair and sat down beside her. Propping one booted foot on a knee, he leaned back to study her. “So what has you so jumpy?”
“Nothing,” she lied, and looked into his brown eyes with their irresistible gold flecks. He had beautiful eyes, with long lashes and a steady stare that seemed to be peeling her open, layer by layer. Well, that wasn’t a happy thought. “I’m just tired. My son didn’t sleep well last night, which means that neither of us does.”
“Couldn’t your husband help take care of him?”
She flushed. “I’m not married. It’s just Jake and me.”
“Must be hard.”
“I won’t argue with that, but I wouldn’t change anything if I could, either.” In fact, she couldn’t imagine a world without Jake in it.
“Lucky boy,” he mused, still watching her.
“So, what are you doing here?”
“I work here,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting.
Brilliant, Charlie. Just brilliant. “Yes, but you usually don’t come to the auctions.”
He shrugged. “I wanted to see you.”
“You see me every day.” Nerves plucked at her insides and Charlie fought to keep from showing them.
“Yeah, but this way’s different,” he said. “We’re not in the office. We’re more like … friends.”
She laughed and took a sip of her water. “Friends?”
“Something wrong with that?”
Oh, if he only knew. They weren’t friends. Friends didn’t make friends feel all hot and flustered and nervous. Friends didn’t inspire dreams that had her waking up in the middle of the night, reaching out for him. And friends most certainly didn’t spy on each other or have the power to fire each other for that matter.
“I guess not,” she said because she could hardly repeat everything that had just raced through her mind.
“Good. Because I’d like to take my ‘friend’ out to dinner tonight.”
“What?”
Five
Vance had never been big on surprises.
They usually didn’t work well for either the surpriser or the surprisee. He liked knowing what was coming, how he would handle it and exactly how any given situation would play out.
His brother, Roark, was the exact opposite. Roark lived his life on the road, on the edge. He had a place to stay in town, but was hardly ever there. He didn’t like plans and lived for the rush of the new.
Vance couldn’t imagine living like that. More than one woman in his life had suggested that he “loosen up.” Let go of his schedule long enough to enjoy himself more. But he enjoyed himself plenty and his relentlessly-adhered-to agenda kept everything straight.
So no one was more astonished than he when he blurted out that invitation to dinner. Although, judging by the expression on Charlie’s face, she was running a close second in the shock department.
He’d come here today not only to support Waverly’s, but to keep an eye on Charlie. See what she did, who she talked to. He hadn’t actually planned to ask her to dinner. Vance was well aware that having any kind of relationship with his assistant was problematic at best and a disaster in the making at worst.
But everything Roark had said kept resonating with him. Getting to know Charlie outside the office was one sure way to dig deeper. To find out all he could about her and discover if she was a spy or as innocent as she seemed.
“Dinner?” Her voice rose. “With you?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, with Justin.”
She laughed a little. “I don’t think Justin’s wife would appreciate that.”
“I don’t have a wife to care …” His gaze dropped to her left hand and the absence of a ring. “And you’re not married, either, so what’s the problem?”
She curled her fingers into her palms and folded her hands on her lap. “You’re my boss.”
“So if I say it’s okay, it should be.”
“I don’t know,” she said, gaze shifting as if to make sure they were still alone in the break room.
“It’s just dinner, Charlie,” he said, not even sure why he was trying so hard to convince her. Maybe it was simply because he wasn’t used to women turning him down. He was more accustomed to women flinging themselves at him. Charlotte Potter was different. “You have to eat.”
She blew out a breath, unfolded her hands and tapped one finger nervously against the tabletop. “I appreciate it, but I’ve got Jake upstairs in day care and—”
“We can take him with us.” He could hardly believe he’d said that. Spending time with a baby hadn’t been part of the plan. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even seen a baby. But he’d sensed a refusal coming and damn if he was going to give up that easily. He could deal. How hard could it be?
She laughed shortly. “You want to have dinner with a baby in tow? You?”
Just a second ago, he’d been doubting his own sanity for the same reason, but somehow hearing her laugh at the very idea was insulting. “I haven’t eaten a child in at least a decade,” he said solemnly. “I think your son will be safe.”
A smile was still curving the corners of her mouth. “He will, but will you survive?”
“It’s dinner, Charlie. I think I can handle it.”
“Mr. Waverly …”
“Vance,” he corrected.
She looked horrified, and Vance felt a rush of irritation.
“I don’t think I can call you that.”
He scowled at her. She wasn’t making this easy. He’d never had to work this hard to get a woman to spend time with him in his life. He had fully expected her to accept his invitation with a pleased smile and a gracious thank-you. Should have known, he told himself, that Charlie Potter wouldn’t do the expected.
“I’m the boss,” he reminded her again, “so if I say you can, it’s okay.”
“All right then, Vance.” She shook her head a little as if to dispel the weirdness of the moment. “As I said, I do appreciate it, but I just can’t imagine you spending time with a baby.”
Irritation sparked inside him. He wasn’t a damn monster. So what if he was never around children? What difference did that make? Millions of people dealt with babies every day. Besides, he was Vance Waverly. There was nothing he couldn’t handle. “Rumor has it, I was actually a child once myself.”
“Do they make suits that small?”
He cocked his head and studied her. “Are you teasing me?”
“A little bit,” she admitted.
Vance couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. More surprising was the fact that he was sort of enjoying himself. Something else he hadn’t planned on.
“That’s fine.” His gaze locked with hers, he said softly, “I can take it.”
“Mr. Waverly—Vance,” she corrected herself before he could. “I don’t know what’s going on, but …”
She was going to turn him down and, dammit, he wasn’t going to let her. He told himself he was doing this for Waverly’s, but the truth was more complicated than that. And he didn’t want to examine that any further.
Leaning forward, he braced his forearms on his knees and looked into her eyes. “Charlie, it’s just dinner. When you’re finished here, we’ll get your son and go get something to eat.”
Narrowing her eyes on him, she said, “That sounds a lot like an order.”
“Does it have to be?”
She thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “It might make it easier on me.”
He blew out a breath and fought down a fresh stirring of irritation. “I’m only talking about dinner, for God’s sake, not taking you to Bali for a sex-filled weekend—”
That thought stopped him cold then heated him up as his mind filled with some truly amazing images. Charlie naked, her skin glowing in the moonlight, her long, blond hair spread across a pillow. Her eyes looking up at him, her arms—He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and realized that she was speaking.
“Uh,” she said, nervously, “okay then. Dinner. Sure. Um, it’ll be an hour at least before I can leave, though.”
“Fine,” he muttered, wondering where in the hell those thoughts and images had come from. And he couldn’t help wondering if the same kind of imagery had filled her mind, too.
“Charlie!” Justin’s voice came from the other room. “I need you in here!”
“Coming.” She sounded grateful as she answered Justin and that told Vance all he needed to know. Her mind had taken the same kind of imaginative trip his had. It seemed she was recovering a lot quicker than Vance, though.
She jumped to her feet and looked down at him. “Are you going out to watch the auction?”
Gritting his teeth against the pain in his groin, he said tightly, “Yeah. I’ll be out there in a minute. You go ahead.”
She looked at him oddly, but shrugged. “I’ll see you later.”
“Vance,” he prompted.
“Vance,” she said softly.
Nodding, he watched her go, his gaze dropping to the curve of her behind in the narrow black skirt she was wearing. And then farther down to those black heels that made her legs look so long and slender and—
Stop watching her or you’ll never be able to get out of here, he told himself and turned to reach for a damn cupcake.
The auction picked up speed as some of the more fabulous pieces were brought out. On any other day, Charlie would have been enjoying herself immensely. But how could she keep her mind on business when she had a threat hanging over her head? Worry was constantly plucking at the edges of her mind.
But if she was going to be honest with herself, not even her would-be blackmailer had her as rattled as Vance Waverly did. Sex-filled weekend in Bali?
As soon as he’d blurted out those words in a flash of frustration, her mind had taken her on the quickest imaginary trip in the history of the world. Instantly, she’d seen the two of them—Vance and her—on a beach, beneath the moon, leaning into each other. His arms came around her and his hands on her naked skin were as hot as the passion burning in his eyes.
In one split second, she had gone from thinking of Vance Waverly as boss to imagining him as lover. What had stunned her was just how easy that shift in thinking had been. She had absolutely no trouble at all imagining him in her bed and that meant she was in some seriously deep water.
Her heart kicked hard in her chest and her mouth was dry, just remembering the flash of something hot and dangerous that shone in his eyes so briefly as their gazes met.
What was she supposed to be feeling? How was she supposed to act? And why was he being so nice all of a sudden? So … interested in her?
Taking her and Jake to dinner? Most men ran for the hills the moment they found out a woman was a single mother. And Vance—how weird and yet exciting was it to think of him as Vance—didn’t strike her as the kind of man who was fond of children, either. So why?
“Sold for $47,000,” the auctioneer intoned and Charlie gratefully came up out of her confusing thoughts. She was up next and she needed to keep her mind on what she was doing.
She looked down at the porcelain display stand that held the necklace Justin had shown her earlier in the week. The porcelain resembled a woman’s neck, showcasing the necklace far better than having it lie flat on a bed of velvet ever could. Charlie hated having to carry the necklace into the room because she was terrified of dropping it. But she slapped a smile on her face and stepped out into the salesroom.
“Now, we have the last item up for bid and by far the star of this collection. The queen of Cadria’s diamond-and-ruby necklace. As you can see,” the auctioneer said, “the detail is astonishing.”
A close-up picture of the necklace was displayed on the wide flat screen behind the podium and a sigh of appreciation rose up from the women in the room.
Charlie could understand that sentiment completely. The jewels themselves were beautiful, even though Justin had pointed out that the antique cuts of the diamonds and rubies actually lowered the price. Which made no sense to her at all, but since she wasn’t going to be buying it …
As she walked down the center aisle, the auctioneer said, “This magnificent necklace was a wedding present to the former queen of Cadria. Legend promises a happy marriage to the woman who wears this beauty. Please check your programs for the total carat weight. Bidding starts at $150,000.”
Charlie staggered a little at that, but caught herself quickly. Cradling the display stand even more carefully, she continued down the center aisle, pausing occasionally to allow the attendees to get a better look. In the last row, she spotted Vance, sitting alone, his gaze locked, not on the necklace, but on her.