He imagined inside her brain a tiny Charlotte standing in her knickers and chemise, holding a clipboard and waiting to add his response to her checklist of How to Manage Alexander O’Riley. An answer rushed at once from his warmed-up heart, but he dared not speak it. All his weapons were gone, but even if he had them he’d not feel safe enough to tell her the truth.You, witch. I want you.
And he certainly would not admit to her how she’d infiltrated his defenses from the very start—at least not by using words that were half-buried like land mines inside of him.Love, beautiful, naked.He loved the darts in her beautiful, deadly shoes. He loved the way her hair felt, slipping over his naked skin. And he loved how her own defenses came apart like a windblown rose when he smiled at her, for all she tried to hide it from them both. He’d spent the past few days smiling more than he ever had in his life, just to watch its effect on her, thedarkening of her eyes and the way her properness cracked until she was muttering insults that not only rang his doorbell but his fire alarm as well. He loved it.
He loved her. And not just in the metaphorical sense. The thought of her leaving him, returning to London and the witches’ League, hurt like hell.
Damn.
He was most definitely not telling her that.
But it was true. The aggravating little witch had crashed him with her magic, and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d fought smugglers and talked back to Irish Catholic nuns, but there was no defeating this soft-skinned, sensitive grenade of a woman.
“Alex?” she prompted.
“What do I want?” he echoed lightly. “Dinner, my darling. I want dinner, and a bottle of wine.”
She sighed. “You are incorrigible.”
“At last, something we can agree upon.” He smiled, and lifted her gently onto his lap so she would be more comfortable than on the cold, hard floor. She nestled close, laying her cheek against his shoulder. It felt like a whole-body kiss.
I love you, he thought silently, trying not to tremble.
“Fiend,” she muttered.
“Witch,” he replied, stroking her hair as her breathing grew lighter, lighter, until at last she slept.
And he sat there staring into the darkness, thinking,Damn, damn.
21
not even one bed—charlotte makes a determination—they have no sense of humor—an unexpected rose—they take a wrong turn—sabotage—a death-defying exit—kitty—a nightmare within a nightmare
There is no charm equal to the tenderness of a soft mattress. Charlotte certainly felt that as she woke in the morning light after sleeping on the dungeon’s icy wooden floor. Her bones ached and her skin, unprotected by layers of muslin, silk, and wool, was ready to start a petition for a return to conservative clothing.
But none of that mattered as she opened her eyes and saw Alex’s face. He was still asleep, his arm curved around her protectively, and thus Charlotte had the luxury of a few private moments to indulge in staring at him.
She had always considered him handsome, even from the start of their acquaintance, when she shared the same first impressions of his character that Elizabeth Bennet had of Mr. Darcy’s. But now she saw courage in his sanguine attitude, wit in his wayward smile, and in the flickering of his ravishing eyelashes a vulnerability she would fight always to protect. He was a fiend, but also truly a friend, and their conversation last night had proved that. She wished she could demandjustice from anyone who had so much as scratched the little boy he had been. Certainly she would punish anyone who tried it now—and would do so even after he left her for his next adventure, as she knew was inevitable. Even after he welcomed the next woman into his bed. He was worth it for his own sake, not just for how he made her feel.
But oh, how he made her feel...
There was no denying now that she really liked him, the rogue.
There was, however, denying that she actually loved him. She was not quite brave enough to admit such a thing yet.
Besides, she had known him only a week. How could she fall in love with someone in a week?
Ah,whispered her heart,but it’s been a lifetime of aloneness, waiting for him, and now here he is.
Nonsense!her brain declared, arms folded tightly and chin tilted, even while her heart waved a volume of Jane Austen’sPersuasionat it in supporting argument. Besides, Alex almost certainly did not feel the same way about her. He’d saidloveyesterday, but that was clearly a joke. He went to bed with her, but she could mark that down to a desire for entertainment. And while it was true that last night he’d held her with tenderness, Charlotte felt sure with a little effort she could contrive an excuse for this also. Her education had provided her not only with superior wit and a complete understanding of English law (and how to break it) but also what amounted to a bachelor of arts in cynicism. She could explain away just about any kindness. No doubt existed in her mind that Captain O’Riley planned to snatch the amulet and fly off with a farewell kiss and a jovial cry oftally ho!
But looking at him now, feeling his quiet breath against her face and realizing that at some point in the night he’d put his coat like a blanket over her, she resolved for that plan to fail. He belonged to her!
Elizabeth Bennet would no doubt be shocked by such indelicacy. But then, Elizabeth Bennet really should have boxed Mr. Darcy’s earhalfway through chapter three. Just as Emma Woodhouse should have shut the door in Mr. Knightley’s condescending face and Fanny should have slapped some sense into Edmund then gone off to London to get herself a decent education. Having now experienced various degrees of communion with a man, Charlotte was of the opinion that Jane Austen’s heroines were ninnies.
Maybe from here on she ought to read Mary Wollstonecraft instead.
Of one thing she was certain. She would get her amuletandher man. No one would be able to persuade her otherwise.
Suddenly, Alex’s eyes opened. He smiled even before they were focused. Charlotte’s pulse began to dance, and when she tried to scold it into decorum, it laughed at her and skipped happily on, singinglove, love. For goodness’ sake, it’s justlike,she reminded herself, to no avail. She felt a softening within, and hastily frowned.
