The Bachelor (10 page)

By the time they walked into the Attic, Charlotte was determined to show her mother another half an hour of fun
outside
of the house. And from the expression on Beth’s face when Charlotte ordered her to pull out their most skimpy, eclectic undergarments,
her assistant was only too happy to oblige.

Charlotte hung a B
ACK
S
OON
sign on the front door and turned to her mother and friend. “Fashion show, anyone? Come on, Mom. You can pick out anything
you want. Release the inner you to go with the new outer you. What do you say?”

“I’m too old to go parading around in my skivvies.” Annie laughed, though, and the sound warmed Charlotte’s insides. “But
I’ll watch you two.”

“And promise to take home at least one pair?”

Her mother nodded.

The afternoon proceeded like a pajama party, with Charlotte and Beth trying on the most seductive bras and panties. Even Annie
seemed to enjoy not just the show, but the idea of treating herself right for once.

Progress came in various forms, but Charlotte believed she’d made some more today. “Last one,” she called out to her mother
and Beth, who waited in the private showing area right outside the individual dressing rooms.

“Okay. I’m dressed and your Mom’s still waiting in the chairs enjoying the show, right, Annie?” Beth asked.

“Right. You girls make me envious for my youth.”

Which she’d wasted on a man who didn’t deserve it, Charlotte thought, but she knew better than to speak aloud and ruin what
had been a perfect day. Instead she slipped on the panty set she’d saved for last, one from her handmade, crocheted line.
She’d never told her mother she’d been using her talent for work, never thought Annie would come out of her shell long enough
to care. But Annie had today.

A loud knock sounded at the shop door. “I’ll get it,” Beth called out. “We’ve been closed long enough to have the townfolk
curious.”

“Whoever it is, get rid of them for another few minutes, okay?” Charlotte didn’t care as much about business as she did about
the bonding time she’d shared with her mother. This last part of their day could bring them even closer.

“Will do.”

Charlotte heard the two women go up front to see who was knocking. In the meantime, she fastened the matching bra, a new addition
to her line. These garments weren’t meant for anything other than intimate seduction.

She glanced in the mirror. She hadn’t counted on the arousing effect of wearing these garments. Her nipples puckered, peeking
through the insubstantial fabric, while an empty, aching feeling settled in the pit of her stomach.

And once aroused, her thoughts drifted to Roman. She smoothed her hands over her hips and turned to the side, taking in her
profile, her long legs and flat stomach. She had to admit, she filled out the bra well. If only she possessed the same nerve
she tried to impart to clients, she’d … what? Charlotte asked herself and forced her mind to play out the answer.

She’d reach out to Roman Chandler. She’d indulge in the feelings she’d possessed since high school. What had started out as
a childhood crush had metamorphosed into adult curiosity and longing. What was he like now? What kind of man had he become?
She had his devotion to his mother to begin the sketch, but there were many more depths she’d like to plumb.

The only way to indulge that curiosity was to give in to her feelings. Accept whatever he offered, for as long as he offered
it—and then have the courage to go on with her life once he was gone. Unlike her mother, who had never taken the steps to
move forward, Charlotte would indulge her deepest passion, then walk away.

But while Roman was here, she thought, continuing with the fantasy, while he was hers, she would go for it all. She’d model
her handmade creations in front of him and watch as his eyes dilated with longing and need. As if she were enacting reality,
her body shook in reaction to her brazen thoughts. Refocusing on the here and now, Charlotte wondered if she had the nerve
to act out her fantasies. She could certainly justify the need. After ten years, she obviously wasn’t going to get Roman out
of her system by pretending he didn’t exist or she wasn’t attracted to him.

She hadn’t gotten over him by ignoring the feelings. Why not try to get over him by acting on those feelings instead? She
wasn’t doomed to repeat her mother’s mistakes if she learned from them.

Her heart picked up rhythm as she contemplated the idea of allowing herself to indulge. In Roman. With Roman.

“Okay, we’re set.” Beth’s voice rang out from the front of the store and the jangling of the store bells jolted Charlotte
back into reality. Unfortunately, arousal didn’t dissipate as quickly.

Charlotte shook her head. Time to concentrate on her reasons for wearing these undergarments. To show off her crocheting skills
to her mother and perhaps get Annie to use these same garments to break out of her own private prison. Both mother and daughter
had huge steps to take in their lives, Charlotte thought.

Footsteps, obviously Beth’s, traveled to the back room.

“Ready or not, here I come,” Charlotte called and stepped out of the small, enclosed room and into the open area with the
Queen Anne chairs. But instead of her mother and Beth, she had an audience of one.

One incredibly sexy, virile male named Roman Chandler.

Roman stared at Charlotte’s practically nude body in complete shock. The most erotic bra and panty set he’d ever laid eyes
on hugged the supple curves of the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. The same one he’d wanted for what felt like forever.

No way in hell was he prepared for this. He’d finally made up his mind to keep his distance, and now this.

“Roman?” Her eyes opened wide, and to his relief, she began a dive for the protection of the swinging café-type doors. Unfortunately,
she paused.

Waiting? Debating? He didn’t know, but he had a perfect view of her pale, slender back, tapered waist, and enticing hints
of skin on her delectable behind.

And then she turned, slowly, placing one hand on top of the slatted door. Her milk-white breasts pushed upward over knitted
black material, full and lush, calling to him. Begging him to forget his newly made vow to steer clear.

She faced him without running to get dressed. Roman hadn’t known she possessed such courage. Yet another facet of her discovered.
But brazenness wasn’t all there was to this incredible woman. The trembling and her uneven breaths told him she was far from
composed. Definitely not the ultimate seductress, he thought, and thank God. Her softer, innocent side would keep him centered
and restrained. Something had to, because his body was fighting him every step of the way.

“Where’s my mother and Beth?” she asked.

Those amazing green eyes met his and a fall of tousled black hair hung over one bare shoulder, causing him to wonder what
the silk strands would feel like on his bare skin.

“Beth said to tell you she was taking Annie home and she’d be back later. Much later.” Obviously the soon-to-be-married Beth
had seen an opportunity to play matchmaker and she’d taken it.

“A setup,” Charlotte murmured, obviously realizing the same thing Roman had. “And you’re here because … ?”

“You’ve got something I need.” He cursed silently. He hadn’t meant to sound so damn suggestive.

She inhaled deeply. For courage? Roman didn’t know, but he needed a dose himself, because she stepped forward, not stopping
until she was close. So close he could smell her fresh as spring scent and wanted more.

“So what can I get for you?” she asked.

“Rick said he’d called and asked you to leave a list of customer names in an envelope for him.” Something related to the panty
thief, though Roman hadn’t asked specifically what.

She nodded. But she didn’t make a move to get the envelope Rick promised would be waiting for Roman, nor did she make a move
to get dressed. He didn’t know what had prompted Charlotte’s change of heart since the last time he’d seen her, but there
was no doubting she’d approached and cornered him now. Apparently she had an agenda of her own, but damned if he knew what
it was.

Roman let out a sharp exhale. The tables had turned. Predator had become prey, and he didn’t miss the irony. “Where are your
clothes?” he asked.

“Why do you care?”

Desire trod a heavy beat inside him, powerful and consuming. All his concentration went into keeping his eyes trained on her
face and not on her luscious body. “What’s going on, Charlotte?” Damn. Her name sounded like a caress and a heated warmth
rushed through his veins.

She lifted one delicate shoulder. “Why are you suddenly fighting what you said you wanted? What you dared me to give?”

She’d avoided his question, asking one of her own instead, her voice hesitant despite her bold stance. But he couldn’t answer
her without betraying his brothers, their coin toss or Roman’s own plan. He could barely face it himself.

He refused to reveal it to Charlotte. “You turned me down flat. What’s with the change of heart?”

She was barely dressed and offering him his heart’s desire. But he had to fight it or risk jeopardizing the job he loved and
the future he wanted.

“I didn’t think you’d care about the hows or the whys.” She reached for the collar of his denim shirt and ran a shaking finger
down one pointed edge.

He actually broke into a sweat. “I do have morals and standards, you know.”

“You’re also up front about your intentions. You aren’t sticking around. I appreciate your honesty.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, Charlotte.”

“Well, I decided that works fine for me.” A hesitant smile tipped her lips. “You want to acknowledge the attraction? So do
I.” She swallowed hard. “I … I want you, Roman.”

“Oh, damn,” he muttered. What kind of man could resist a declaration like that? His hand came around the back of her neck,
his fingers threaded into her hair, and he sealed his mouth tight over hers.

This first kiss began gently, indulging the need to explore, but quickly flared out of control, thanks to the hunger of too
many pent-up years. A driving need to make up for lost time consumed him. Hot and ravenous, he ran his tongue over the seam
of her lips, demanding entry, and she gave it to him. She was moist and damp inside, sweet and pure, and she tasted too damn
right.

A throaty moan escaped her lips. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but she backed up and he followed, his mouth never leaving
hers. They hit the wall behind them. Once they were in the small, enclosed dressing room, the swinging doors closed shut,
sealing them inside. His hands traveled from her neck to grip her waist, pulling them into intimate contact. His groin nestled
into the vee of her legs and his erection grew, swelling with need as he found a warm and welcoming home.

Her damp feminine heat cushioned him through the rough denim of his jeans. “Sweet Jesus,” he muttered, his body full to bursting.
The barrier of clothing was restricting and a sweet yet painful ache begged for fulfillment. He shifted from side to side,
seeking deeper access than was possible.

As if she’d read his mind, her legs slipped open wider, and he sucked in a ragged breath. They were cheek to cheek, her hands
gripping his shoulders, her fingertips digging into the skin beneath his shirt, and her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.

She surrounded him. Physically, her body cradled his, and when he inhaled he was enveloped in her essence. Her scent fulfilled
him in a way that surpassed mere sexual need, and
that
was the notion that brought reality surging back. “What the hell are we doing?” he managed to ask.

She let out a shaky laugh, her breath hot on his skin. “I don’t know what you’d call it, but I’m getting you out of my system.”

As if such a thing were possible, he thought. Ten years later, and this was still the only woman who jumbled his emotions
along with his hormones. She had the ability to make him throw his resolutions to hell and back.

Her head resting against the wall, she studied him through glazed eyes. “You have to admit, the idea’s got merit.”

He stepped back and ran an unsteady hand through his hair. The idea had merit—if he had the time to play around until he tired
of her. Assuming he ever tired of her. Roman had his doubts.

He also had his plan. A destiny he hadn’t intended but had to fulfill, thanks to the flip of a coin and strong family obligation.
Right now he hadn’t a clue how he was going to accomplish his objective, but this woman was hazardous. She didn’t want a long-term
commitment with a man who didn’t plan to stay in Yorkshire Falls. That alone put her off limits.

But Roman also feared she had the ability to pull him back to her, to this town, and make him forget the dreams and life goals
he’d always had.

The more he indulged, the deeper she drew him in. “Getting you out of my system’s a damn good idea. I haven’t a clue how to
go about it, but this …” He gestured between her nearly naked body and his thoroughly aroused one. “Isn’t the smart way of
doing it.”

Before he could change his mind, he turned and stormed through the swinging doors, the hinges creaking in his wake. He didn’t
let himself look back.

Only after he was safely back on the street did he realize he’d forgotten Rick’s list of possible suspects. And no way was
he walking back into the fire now.

T
he streets of Yorkshire Falls were empty as most of the town gathered inside town hall. After getting a breath of fresh air,
Charlotte walked inside to her volunteer workstation, where she acted as punch bowl lookout. On a typical day, no smart adult
would touch the punch bowl filled with green liquid, but at the Annual St. Patrick’s Day dance, everyone indulged in the colored
Kool-Aid.

She told herself she was better off concentrating on making sure no one spiked the punch bowl than on Roman. Just remembering
their sensual run-in earlier that day caused goose bumps to prickle along her skin.