“Je t’aime, Maman,” Charlotte said. “I’ll call you soon.” Then when she hung up, she called down the hall. “Jacob? I’m going to grab the pizza I ordered, okay?”
His door opened immediately, and he came out, still dressed in his suit trousers, shirt and tie. “I can go. I heard you on the phone and didn’t want to interrupt.”
When he returned, they sat at the kitchen counter yet again and ate. The pizza was perfect: the crust not too thick and not too thin, with a crispy bottom, spicy sauce, savory sausage, mushrooms, and just the right amount of mozzarella. Charlotte went to the fridge and got a big bottle of Perrier and poured them each a glass.
“I wish I didn’t have to go out tonight,” she admitted.
“You could always skip it,” he mused, taking another slice of pizza.
“Are you kidding? This is a huge deal. I just need to gear myself up. I’ve got a killer dress, too.” She grinned. “A little more risqué than I usually wear.”
Did he reach for his water a little too quickly? It was nice to think that she might be able to cause that kind of reaction in him when he was usually so placid and unshakeable.
“And will there be any exes to fend off?” He raised an eyebrow. “Just to be prepared.”
“Don’t worry. I doubt Mark will have an invitation to this one. And maybe it will surprise you to know that there aren’t many exes in my past.”
He hesitated and then said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that.”
“You were teasing. But maybe I wanted you to know anyway.”
That heavy, wonderful feeling settled around them again, that simple knowledge that they were two people who found each other attractive, but shouldn’t.
“Charlotte...”
She felt daring. “Mmm. I like it when you say my name like that.”
“Charlotte!” Harsher this time.
“Jacob!” she mocked.
He pushed back from the counter, the stool legs scraping against the floor. “Don’t.” His mouth set in a firm line. “Don’t flirt with me.”
There was something behind his eyes just then that made her cease. It wasn’t his words, but something more. A flicker of anger, of pain perhaps. It occurred to her that she didn’t know him at all beyond the fact that he was former military and now a bodyguard. Did he have a family? Was he in love with someone? Where did he live? She knew none of those things. It surprised her that she wanted to.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I was flirting. But not trying to play with you. There’s a difference. It won’t happen again.”
She’d swiveled on the stool and faced him. Now his gaze delved into hers and for a breathless moment she thought he was going to kiss her. He stared at her lips for a prolonged second and then back up into her eyes, and she saw regret mixed with the other emotions on his face.
“I can’t. I won’t. You understand that, right?”
She nodded quickly. The way he said it, everything about this moment, told her he wanted to. How quickly it had escalated from a tiny bit of teasing to desire.
She desired him. There was no denying it, not to herself.
“I understand,” she whispered. “I never considered that there might be someone else. I don’t even know much about you. It was inconsiderate of me.”
“There’s no one else,” he said harshly. “No one.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her there with a half-full pizza box and the dirty dishes. And she didn’t mind a bit. Because today she’d felt more alive than she’d felt in years, and it was all because of Jacob Wolfe. The way he’d said there was no one else, so sharp and edged with pain? That told her that there had been, once. And she suspected that his heartbreak might have been more devastating than hers.
She cleaned up the mess and decided to do a quick email check before dressing for the party. It was no time at all and her laptop was booting up on the countertop. She hummed a little as she logged in and then clicked on the email icon. Her inbox popped up and she waited for messages to download.
There were twelve, and one stood out and made her heart stop.
Fingers shaking, she used the trackpad to scroll to the line in her
inbox and tapped to open it.