One Summer Night: An Indecent Proposition / Beholden to the Throne / Hers For One Night Only?
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Thank God Nico had warned her as to how she should react, for though there were no really raised voices, there was a brutality to the words that were muffled by the walls. Then there was a scrape of furniture that, had she not been told to ignore it, would have had Charlotte ringing her boss to ensure that all was okay.
And she waited for it to be so.
She waited for it to be the surprise reunion Zander had assured that it would be, except it appeared the meeting was to go down as Nico had feared.
The door opened. Zander went to march out and then harsh words were hurled from Nico, and there were no walls or door now to muffle his anger, no barrier to deflect the strength behind his words.
‘I will not leave Xanos.’ She had never heard her boss so angry. ‘I will stay here as long as I choose. There is still much to find out.’
‘I’ve told you all you need to know.’ She saw Zander turn, his back so taut she saw the stretch of the fabric that struggled to contain muscles that had rippled beneath her fingers last night. She wanted to stop him, wanted to rush over, but she knew it was not her place, knew even then that she had been deceived, especially as Zander spoke on. ‘There will never be a relationship. I do not have a brother, or a mother. You left me with him and now you return—’
‘As if I had a choice!’ Nico’s shout matched Zander’s but his hate did not, for Zander was so full of loathing Charlotte could almost taste it.
‘You lived your rich, pampered life away from Xanos. Now you return like some grandiose prodigal son … But you are not wanted,’ Zander said. ‘You do not belong here. I will build that nightclub, so enjoy the noise of machinery, for it will be nothing compared to the music that will pound in your home night after night …’
‘For what purpose?’ Nico demanded.
‘Misery.’ Zander’s answer was simple. ‘Touch my things, encroach on my life and I will make it my business to ensure the rest of yours is miserable.’
But Nico still had questions.
‘What do you know—’ so badly he need closure ‘—about our mother? Do you know if she lives?’
‘She is dead to me,’ Zander said. ‘She was dead to me the day she chose you. Go find her if you must, show her the son she saved.’
‘She did not save me,’ Nico shouted at his brother. ‘She sold me!’
‘No!’ Zander’s roar was absolute, for only Zander had lived his life, only Zander knew the hell of being the one left behind—and he’d have rather have been sold to the devil than be left a single day with that man who bore the title of father. ‘She saved you—so bask in it, brother.’ He sneered the word. ‘But get the hell away from Xanos, and keep the hell away from me.’
She sat, more at stake than her boss must ever realise, and as Zander swept out she had to resist leaping to her feet. She wanted to demand what had gone wrong with his plans, why Nico was so furious, or was it Zander?
For Zander it should now be over. He had said all he had come to say, yet it did not sate his anger. Still there was a burn in his guts, a need for more. Adrenaline still flooded his muscles, had his heart pounding in his throat with such force he wanted to rip off his tie and tear at his shirt. He was furious that his twin had known, that Nico had stood and faced him as he’d walked in rather than recoil in shock. Insulted by Nico’s outstretched hand, Zander had declined it; instead, he had told him exactly his feelings—that there would be no contact, that forgiveness would never be on the table. That his mother had chosen the golden one, had given Nico the chance of a privileged life and left Zander to survive for himself.
And he had.
Oh, he had.
He did not need anyone.
He had made it alone and would go on doing so.
Would destroy Nico if he tried to get close.
And, now that was over, all he wanted was to get out.
Away from the man who looked like him, away from the reflection that was now in his mirror.
Away from the son that his mother had chosen.
And then, as he strode out, when he would have preferred to hit, or to run, he saw her sitting there, saw the confusion in her eyes and the tremble to the mouth that last night had been his. And he did not want her for Nico, he wanted her for himself.
‘Get your things.’ He snapped his fingers to tell her his haste. He wanted her away, he wanted her upstairs, he wanted her on his bed, and he would forget what he had just seen, forget the brother that never would be, he would lose himself in her. But she just sat there.
‘Get your things!’ Zander said. ‘You come with me.’
He did not understand her hesitation. He was offering her his world, offering more of what they had had last night. ‘You work for me now,’ he clarified, except Nico was walking out of his office and still Charlotte sat there.
‘Charlotte has nothing to do with this,’ Nico said.
‘Except that she comes now with me,’ Zander retorted, without looking at the man he loathed. ‘Come now.’ He gave her one more chance when he gave others none but, pale, she still sat there, her eyes moving from his to Nico and then back to him.
‘I work for Nico.’ Her voice was as pale as her face.
‘My staff are loyal to me,’ came his brother’s voice, and Zander could not believe that she would choose him after the night they had shared. His mind was so black with loathing, so angry having lived a life of betrayal, that there was no chance of straight thinking.
‘Really?’ Zander shot back. ‘Well, that’s not how it seemed when her legs were wrapped around me last night.’ It all came out in one caustic response. Zander watched her quail as the words spewed out, but really the words were not aimed at provoking her and he looked at Nico to relish his response. He wanted his brother to thump him; he wanted a fist because it was pain he could see, a bruise he could feel, hurt that could be measured. He wanted to fight but his brother just stood there, and, worse, Charlotte apologised for the one good thing on Xanos that had ever taken place.
‘I’m sorry, Nico …’ She could not have felt more betrayed, more humiliated, more ashamed—could so clearly see now how she had been used. She could not stand to look at Zander, so she looked at her boss instead. He was the man she should have been loyal to, the man who paid her wages. ‘I’m so sorry, Nico.’
‘No problem.’ Nico was tough, and could be just as cutting as his brother, though the barb in his response, she knew, was not aimed at her. ‘We’re all allowed a mistake—yours just happened to be my brother.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE lay curled up and wounded on the bed, too mortified to go out, dreading Nico’s wrath, but far more than that she was beyond hurt by what Zander had done.
The contempt, the disregard, how he had used her.
A knock at the door a short while later did not see Charlotte moving. She did not care who it might be: Nico to fire her or Zander, for what?
An apology wasn’t going to fix this.
Instead, when the knock came again, she closed her eyes at the sound of a woman’s voice.
‘Charlotte, it’s me—Constantine.’
She could not be rude to Nico’s wife. She had met her a few times and Constantine had always been nice. Beyond ashamed, Charlotte opened the door, and burst into tears when the other woman wrapped her arms around her.
‘Nico told me what happened.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Charlotte wept. ‘I’m so ashamed …’
‘For what?’
‘For what I did.’ Everything that had been so beautiful had been turned around and it all seemed sullied and sordid now. ‘I thought … I never thought he hated Nico. It was not about being disloyal.’
‘Charlotte.’ Constantine was kind. ‘What happened between you and Zander is not Nico’s business, or mine.’
‘It has become that though,’ Charlotte wept. ‘I really thought …’ But she could not divulge her dreams because they seemed so pathetic now, that with one look, with one kiss, he had whisked her away, had let her glimpse a world she did not know and now wished she never had.
‘Is Nico going to fire me?’
‘He wants to speak with you, he wants to know what was said, what Zander revealed. I doubt he could fire you for sleeping with someone.’ Constantine gave a wry smile. ‘My husband is many things, but he is never a hypocrite. He is cross,’ she admitted, ‘furious, but I think that is more aimed at his brother. As I pointed out to him when he told me what had happened, we were together the night we met—it was, in fact, my wedding night and Nico was not the groom …’ Charlotte blinked at the admission from Nico’s wife. ‘I know how devastating they can be, how irresistible Nico was to me. I am not here to judge you, I just want to know you are okay.’
‘I will be,’ Charlotte said, for she was certainly not okay now. She tried to scan her future for a time when this would not hurt so much, but Zander had changed it for ever. ‘If I had thought, for even a second, that he was not looking forward to meeting Nico … Why would he hate him? It’s not as if Nico was raised by his parents. Nico was the one that was sold …’
‘Roula, their mother, she was not stable …’ Constantine paused. Charlotte could see the other woman was uncomfortable discussing this, for though Charlotte had been privy to certain information, emotion had always been left out, only names and facts had been given by Nico. ‘Or that is what we have been told. She left the father and worked the streets … The Eliadeses desperately wanted a baby …’ Constantine screwed her eyes closed, and it was clear that she hated discussing this. ‘Alexandros, I mean Zander, was raised by his father. It would seem …’ Charlotte closed her eyes as Constantine spoke on and she recalled Zander telling her that his time in Xanos had not all been happy. ‘He was not a good man, he was a cruel man, in fact.’
‘If that was the case, why would she leave Zander with him?’
‘That is what we are trying to find out. There are so many questions, which is why we are searching for her. But Zander has run true to form, it would seem—like father, like son.’
Charlotte’s eyes opened at the rare bitterness in Constantine’s voice and though she was hurting, bleeding inside, even though she had nothing to base it on, something within her rose to defend him. ‘You can’t say that.’
‘Oh, but I can,’ Constantine flared. ‘He has done nothing to prove otherwise. Cruel seems a very good word to describe him to me. He has bought up the homes on the island for a pittance and now, till he is ready to bulldoze them, he rents them out for a small fortune, at least it is a fortune to the locals. He’s building a nightclub and there is talk of a casino, yet he does not give the locals the work. He wants my husband and son to leave Xanos, and will do anything to engineer it, even ruin the rest of the island just to get his way.’
‘It’s business,’ Charlotte attempted. ‘Maybe when he has calmed down … It must have been unnerving to finally meet his twin.’
‘He has no nerves to unnerve’ was Constantine’s swift response. Was that pity in her eyes as she looked at Charlotte? ‘How can you defend him after what he just did to you? If it is only in business that he is cruel, what does that make you?’
Her words were like a slap and Charlotte retracted as if hit.
‘I don’t want him to hurt you further, Charlotte, but he will if you let him.’
‘I won’t give him the opportunity.’ Of that she was sure, but still she knew her own mind, would not be silenced because it suited Constantine. ‘But you’re wrong, Constantine. If it comes down to like father like son, what does that make Nico?’
‘He was not raised by him.’
‘No, he was raised by a man who bought him, who lied even when confronted with the truth.’ This much at least Charlotte knew and she watched Constantine’s flushed, angry cheeks pale a little. ‘Zander is not all bad,’ Charlotte said. He couldn’t be. He simply could not be, for she remembered them walking on the beach. He was the only man to touch her soul. She remembered their day and she remembered his smile and the rare sound of his laughter. In a second, as she sat on the bed wounded with hurt, her heart forced recall, told her that despite evidence to the contrary, their time together, their day, their night had surely not all been contrived, had not all been a lie. Her heart told her so.
‘You need to be careful when dealing with him,’ Constantine warned.
‘I’m having no dealings with him,’ Charlotte replied, and then realised what Constantine was saying. ‘I still have a job?’ She thought of her mother, of all the balls she was juggling back home, and when Constantine hesitated, the surge of hope faded, but Constantine took her hands.
‘You have to do it, though. Nico needs you to stay here for a few days to go through his itinerary. He is heading back to the hospital soon to spend some time with his father, but though Zander has made things difficult, some things just can’t be put on hold. He wants to see you downstairs in the restaurant for a meeting. He wants to up the search for his mother and, no matter what, he wants that land.’
‘I can’t face Zander.’ Charlotte could not go out there—she simply could not go out there.
‘But face him you must.’ Constantine was resolute. It was her little family under attack from Zander after all and, as kind as she had been to Charlotte, on this there was no compromise. ‘You work for Nico—don’t forget that again.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘CHARLOTTE, please …’
Just when her heart could surely not be more torn, she answered the phone to the sobs of her mother. ‘When are you coming to get me?’
Charlotte closed her eyes. ‘I’m at work, Mum.’
‘You said you’d never leave me.’
‘I’m sorry about this.’ A nurse came on the line. ‘We have a residents’ phone …’
‘Mum’s got my number in her diary.’ Charlotte closed her eyes. ‘Is she okay?’
‘She’s taking a little while to orientate, but most of the time she’s fine. It’s just every now and then she gets into a panic. It often happens with temporary residents. She’ll settle in in a couple of days.’
And then it would be time to take her home. Charlotte thought of the battle that lay ahead, of the increased confusion that awaited, of the impossibility of it all, but she could not think of that now. Getting through the morning was proving a difficult enough task, let alone looking to the future.
‘Can you put her back on to speak with me, please?’
Charlotte spoke with her mother for a few moments, reassuring Amanda that she was at work and that her stay at the home was only temporary, but the call depleted her already shot nerves.
Shaky hands applied lip gloss and she put drops in her swollen eyes. Charlotte was nervous and embarrassed to be facing Nico, but more than that dreaded that she might see Zander, and wondered how on earth she should react to him if she did. But surely he had checked out, Charlotte consoled herself. After all, he had said his piece to his brother, had made it clear that he would not be selling the land and wanted nothing to do with him whatsoever. What reason could he have to be here? She attempted to reassure herself, trying to ignore the fact that he practically owned the south of Xanos and had every reason to stay for a few days at the very least.
Somehow she had to tell Nico that she was not able to stay any longer on Xanos, that she had to get home. But how could she possibly assert herself after what had just taken place? Of all the stupid things to do with Zander, of all the blind, stupid things. Nico was hardly going to accept demands from her now when by her own actions she had suddenly become extremely dispensable.
Damn you, Zander!
It was a relief to be angry.
A welcome change from guilt and remorse and shame. In fact, so angry was Charlotte that as she stepped out of the lift and headed across the foyer to the restaurant, to the table where Nico waited, instead of burning in a blush when she saw Zander sitting on the other side of the restaurant, looking up from the paper he was reading and sipping on coffee as if he did not have a care, instead of looking hurriedly away, she positively glowered at him. Her anger forced her to hold her head high as she crossed the room and joined her boss.
Nico had ordered two coffees—a milky one for Charlotte and a short black for himself. He gave a very tight smile as she approached. ‘Well,’ Nico said as she took a seat at the table. ‘This is awkward.’ He was as direct as ever and so honest with the circumstances that it made her smile, even made her laugh just a little as Nico rolled his eyes, but her smile soon faded. ‘You should have told me you had spoken with Zander—you should have informed me that you had met him.’
‘I know,’ Charlotte said. ‘I tried.’
‘I know that you tried to call, and that you found out my father was ill.’ Nico stirred sugar into his coffee, but even as she entered into the most difficult of conversations, her shoulder was burning, for she could feel Zander watching them. ‘But, still, you should have said when you spoke with Constantine.’ She was shamed by the pity in Nico’s eyes now when he looked at her. ‘I could have warned you what he is like.’
‘You knew?’ She was determined not to cry, not in front of Nico and certainly not with Zander close by, but, damn it, it was hard to sit there and have it confirmed just how easily she had been used. ‘You knew that his intentions were not good?’
‘When you rang and said that the owner was coming, that Zander …’ Nico grimaced for it had been a painful realisation for him too. ‘I went and got the house deeds, saw his signature and, call it twin intuition, I knew there was trouble brewing. I knew that Zander knew who I was, that he was coming to confront me.’
‘I believed him when he said it would be a surprise.’
‘You listen only to me now,’ Nico warned. ‘Your loyalty is only to me.’
And she nodded, because it had to be now, because Zander had let her down so badly. All their time together had been a sham of his making.
‘What did he tell you?’ Nico asked. ‘Did he speak about our parents?’
‘No.’ She raked her mind back over their conversations, realised just how much he had avoided talking about himself. ‘He gave nothing away.’
‘He must have revealed something?’ Nico urged. ‘You met him on Saturday. Surely you spoke, not just …’ He held his tongue and she was grateful, for they had not just tumbled into bed.
‘We spoke a lot.’
‘Did he say anything about our mother?’
‘Nothing, just that he had never met her.’
‘Charlotte?’
‘That was it. He said that his time here on Xanos was not all happy.’ And even if Zander had betrayed her in the vilest of ways, still she could not do the same to him, could not tell Nico about the markets and the thieving, about the taverna and the memories he had shared. She was sure, quite sure, Nico didn’t need to know that. Already Constantine had said they knew the father was a brute. ‘Nico, he told me nothing. He was using me to get information, not the other way around, and I told him nothing. Despite the mistakes I have made over the weekend, I was not indiscreet about you.’
He accepted that, and for that she was grateful. ‘I need you to stay on in Xanos—perhaps into next week. I want you to look into the licensing for the club he is talking about building, just get some research together, and I have a lead on my mother. I need you to ring around, perhaps fly out to the mainland and visit a few homes.’ He looked up. ‘I trust that is not a problem.’
So badly she wanted to say that it was the most terrible problem, that she needed to get back to her mother, that travel was impossible, but the reality was that right now she needed a job, needed to pay for the bill that would come in for the nursing home, needed the wages that Nico paid. Cold reality beckoned in a way that it never had before. She needed this job, needed to work even if that might mean her mother had to live permanently in the home. It would be far easier to sit and weep now, but instead she forced her voice to be casual, even managed to look Nico in the eye as she spoke. ‘Of course it’s not.’
‘And I want that land,’ Nico said. ‘I am not moving my wife and child from Xanos at his bidding. If he accepts my offer, you are to get it immediately in writing.’
‘I am to deal with him?’ That she could not handle.
‘Of course.’ Nico frowned. ‘Though you will deal with him rather more professionally this time, I hope.’ And he asked her again. ‘Is that a problem?’
She knew what Nico was doing, knew that even if he was giving her a chance to redeem herself, he also saw her as a link to his brother. If she had had any energy left, she would have argued her case, but instead Charlotte sat there, knew when she was beaten.
‘No, it won’t be a problem.’
Nico stood. ‘Charlotte, I’m trusting you to do the right thing.’ She nodded, and closed her eyes. In a rare move, Nico put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a small squeeze, for he was more disappointed than angry. Perhaps even a little guilty, for his private life had now impacted badly on her and, yes, he did want her to find out some more. ‘All will be fine.’
Zander sat, watching his brother’s hand on her shoulder, watching her back to him, watching the man he hated most give Charlotte comfort. He knew she needed comfort because of him, and it caused something to stir inside as he recalled his words, recalled the gasp that had come from her lips and the shock on her face.
His richly blended coffee tasted like acid as it slid down his throat. There was a burn in his stomach and a clench in his scalp as his brother walked past, as Nico had the gall to give him a brief nod.
He did not want a polite greeting, did not want to foster anything with him. Yet the eyes that had looked in his direction felt like his own, the face, the walk—it was like looking in the mirror, except different. Looking at a reflection that was a better version of himself.
He looked over to where Charlotte remained and usually Zander did not entertain guilt, considered it a wasted emotion, an expensive emotion—but he could see her rigid posture. She turned her head and smiled as Nico said goodbye to her, and then he watched her shoulders drop, just a fraction, but he could see the internal collapse, see her hand tremble as she picked up her coffee, see her try to right herself, to sit up straight again, and then, when it didn’t work, he watched as she stood to leave. He could see her eyes avoiding him as she walked across the restaurant. ‘Charlotte.’ He called her name, and of course she ignored him. He caught her wrist as she brushed past. ‘Join me.’
‘Join you!’ She could not believe his audacity. It was way too soon to attempt professional. Surely she would be given a day’s grace at the very least before she had to deal with him. ‘Nico is still here. If you have business to discuss I can arrange—’
‘I do not want to speak with him.’
‘Then I can get Paulo …’ She was having great trouble talking, could feel his fingers scalding her wrist. She wanted to slap him, to pick up his coffee and toss it in his lap, to hand back even an ounce of the hurt that he had landed her with, but Nico had spelt out the rules. Nico, she realised in that hopeless moment as she stood there, was using her too for she was, for now, the link to Zander, the pawn, the plaything that might make him linger, the trinket Zander wanted, perhaps for a while. She stood and remembered, remembered his cruel words, how he had sneered that her legs had been wrapped around him. And she didn’t just hear his words, she saw the vision too, was back there in the passionate moments, remembering how deeply he had kissed her, how much he had ravished her, how pliant her body had been in arms, how good the bastard was, and it took everything she possessed just to stand there as his words were delivered.
‘I don’t want to speak with Paulo. I discuss business with you.’
‘But you don’t want to discuss business.’ ‘Of course I do. There are some questions I have about his future use of the land—and about the maintenance of the jetty.’ He smiled and it lacerated. He lied and it killed her that he did.