'Tis the Season (27 page)

She watched Charles, midway through the crowd, shake hands and chat with a refined looking couple, a tuxedoed older man and a glamorous woman in a sparkling gown. Charles was dashing and self-assured, the very picture of sophistication, wealth, and power, completely in his element. This was his world. Lisette felt very much out of her element, and hoped she'd done a good job of hiding that. Despite her fancy dress and Charles's sweet words, nothing would ever make her feel as if she fit in with these people.

And she had to wonder if maybe, seeing her in his world tonight, outside the escapist privacy of the mansion . . . Charles knew that too.

* * *

She'd been telling the truth when she told Charles she wanted to see more of the hotel. It was such a beautiful place, and she was eager to explore the opulent décor, the exquisite architecture, the grandeur of the famous building. Her mood shifted again to a lighter, better one.

Before meeting Charles again, she ducked into the ladies' room closest to the ballroom. It was probably the most beautiful bathroom she'd ever been in. As she exited a stall and went to wash her hands, she couldn't help but overhear two women talking in the sitting room nearby.

“I mean, it's just so disappointing,” the first woman said in a snarky, nasal tone.

“I know,” the second woman agreed, her tone equally haughty. “One of the most eligible bachelors in the country, and he's taken up with
her?
”

Lisette froze where she stood. They couldn't possibly be talking about Charles and her, could they? No, she was just being paranoid. She reached for a thick paper towel to dry her hands.

“I guess he has a thing for exotic brunettes,” the first woman quipped. “Remember his ex-wife? She was a bitch on wheels, but one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen.”

“Well, when you've got a pretty young thing right there under your roof,” the second woman said, “why wouldn't you take advantage?”

“Another one falls prey to the nanny,” the first one said, disdain dripping from her words. “It's such a cliché, it's painful.”

A wave of coldness swept over Lisette, and her stomach rolled nauseously. Jesus, they
were
talking about her and Charles. Oh, God. What to do? She stood motionless.

“To think I busted my ass in law school,” the first one said. “I should've just been a nanny like the rest of these women; they're obviously smarter than me. Fuck your boss; take the money and run.”

The second woman laughed, a brittle, hollow sound. “Really. When we hired our nanny, I made sure she was old and ugly. I wasn't taking any chances.”

“Well, Charles isn't married, so he can do whatever he wants,” the first woman pointed out. “It's just a shame. A man like him, wasted on some nobody. He's still so handsome, don't you think?”

“Oh my God, yes. He's aging like a fine wine. But men like that always do.”

Lisette closed her eyes and braced her icy, tingling hands on the marble sink.

“I heard she's worked there for two years already,” the first woman said. “Took her time, but damn, she's clever. Ingratiating herself with the children . . .”

“That's what I hate—when they pretend to care about the kids!” the second woman exclaimed. “It's shameful, how these nannies pretend to care, just to get close to a rich man. Charles is such a smart man, how does he not see that?”

“Well, he didn't with his ex-wife either. For a smart man, he's dumb about women.” The first woman exhaled a dramatic sigh. “Hell, she'll probably get more by spreading for him than I'll make this whole decade. Come on, you ready to go back?”

Lisette stood, trembling, waiting for the sound of silence for a full thirty seconds before venturing to the sitting room, empty now. In a daze she sank down on one of the three couches. The room was elegant and beautiful, like everything and everyone in the hotel. So beautiful . . . Her chest was tight, her heart was pounding, and she couldn't catch her breath.

She had known there would be gossip about her and Charles being together once they went public. She had just never thought she'd actually hear it firsthand, or this soon. Closing her eyes, she tried to draw deep breaths.

This would never work.

She'd been fooling herself, wanting to believe the dreamy tale Charles spun of their having a future together. Being with him wasn't only bad for her; it was bad for him. Her being with Charles would make him the target of snarky gossip amongst his colleagues and friends . . . She couldn't do that to him. And honestly, she didn't know if she had it in her to hear that kind of poison, or be put in a defensive position, on a regular basis. Pretending to care about the kids? She loved them as much as if they were hers. If anyone ever cast doubt on that and made the kids think even for a second that her affection for them wasn't genuine . . . She felt sick.

The awful truth hit her like a physical blow. If people thought this of her
now
, what would they think and say when they found out she was pregnant? What kind of backlash would Charles have to deal with? How long before his forbidden girlfriend wasn't so fun to be naughty with anymore, and was more of a serious burden to deal with?

Tears stung her eyes, and she sniffed them back.

The only thing that made sense now was the plan she'd formulated when she and Charles had first started seeing each other. She had to leave the mansion, find her own home, establish herself separately from Charles and the children. It was the only way she could keep her job, and him, and prove that she wasn't in this for money or power. She also had to tell Charles about the baby. They had a lot of serious talking to do, and she had a bad feeling about how that would go.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“There you are!” Charles greeted Lisette with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek. “I was starting to wonder if you'd blown me off,” he added jokingly.

She didn't crack a smile. “Charles . . . we need to talk.”

He stared down at her, his blood seeming to slow in his veins. “Well, that's never good,” he said. “Not when it's said like that.” He peered harder at her. She didn't look right. His gut hummed with dread. “What's wrong?”

“We just really need to talk,” she repeated. “Privately.”

He took her by the hand. “Come on. The room is ours whenever we want it. No time like the present.”

“Don't you need to say good-bye to Tess?” Lisette asked. “Or your brothers?”

“I'll call them later. Let's go.”

Ten minutes later, Charles opened the door to the luxurious suite he'd reserved for the night. Lisette walked in slowly, taking in her surroundings in quiet awe. The sitting room was lovely, with the bedroom just beyond. “It's gorgeous,” she murmured.

“I wanted nothing but the best for you,” he said quietly.

She eyed the two small suitcases against the wall. Charles had told her that he'd had bags packed for them, clothes to change into tomorrow. He'd thought of everything, and he thought she'd be glad. But from the middle of the sitting room, she turned to face him. Her wringing hands were another giveaway: something was wrong.

“Talk to me,” he urged. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his slacks and tried to seem at ease, despite the uneasy churning of his stomach.

“I . . . need to tell you some things,” she said. She drew a shaky breath, then her chin lifted a notch. “I'm going to move out of the mansion.”

He blinked. “What? Why?”

“Because I think I should have my own space,” she said. Her voice was calm and even, which unnerved him even more. “I'm not quitting my job. But I need not to live under your roof. Not with the way things are now. I'll find a place nearby, so I can be at the house early and stay all day, until they're asleep—”

“No. Just no. This is ridiculous,” he said, feeling a muscle twitch under his eye. “You'll do no such thing. Where the hell is this coming from?”

“Please let me finish,” she said quietly. Her face was flushed, but the look in her eyes was pure determination. “There's more.”

Charles's heart started thumping in heavier beats. “Go on.”

“I, um . . .” Her eyes slipped closed for the briefest second, then focused again. “I think we should stop seeing each other.”

“Lisette,” he said gruffly, “what the hell is going on?”

“Reality set in,” she murmured.

“Bullshit,” he spat. “Something happened tonight, and you're not telling me. I can't fix it if I don't know what happened.”

“You can't fix this one,” she said. “And I wasn't even done yet.”

“Yes, you are. I won't hear any more of this.” He crossed the space between them in three long strides and gripped her shoulders. “I love you. And you said you love me. Whatever happened, we'll deal with it together. Don't shut me out.”

Her eyes widened, and spots of high color bloomed on her cheeks, but she shook her head in resignation. “You need to let me do this. I'm not quitting the job.”

“But you're quitting
us
,” he said. “You expect me to just go along with that?”

“You have to.” Her eyes fell away.

“Why, goddammit?” He wanted to shake her. “
I love you.
And I love having you in my home. I don't want you to leave.”

“I have to. So I can prove to you,” she ground out, “and everyone else, that I do my job because I love it, and that I'm not beholden to you for anything other than the job. That I'm not some . . . hired in-house whore.”

He gaped at her in confusion. “What. Happened. Tonight?”

“I've been thinking about this for a while.”

“You've never mentioned it, never even hinted at anything like this. So, again,” he growled, losing patience. “Why?”

“I'm pregnant,” she said.

He stilled, hands still on her shoulders. His eyes locked with hers.

She licked her lips and met his searing gaze. “I went to the doctor, like I promised. Turns out I'm not sick or dying. I'm pregnant.”

Charles didn't move. “You . . .” His head cocked slightly. “I thought you said you couldn't get pregnant. That you couldn't have children.”

“Because that's what I thought,” she said. “That's what all the doctors told me. But . . .” She swallowed again, trying to dislodge the lump that felt like a rock in her throat. “I went to the doctor last week and, as it turns out, I'm pregnant.”

“You've known for days and didn't tell me?”

The note of disbelief in his voice made her wince. “I wanted to, Charles. I just needed to really process it for myself first. I was going to tell you later tonight.”

He continued to stare. She could practically hear all the thoughts and questions bouncing around in his brain. “It's mine, of course,” he finally said.

She nodded. It was hard to breathe.

“How far along are you?” he asked.

“Nine weeks,” she whispered.

His eyes widened. “That first time . . . ?”

She nodded again.

He rubbed his jaw slowly, absorbing the news. Then his eyes softened, and his hands lifted to cup her face. “Are you all right?” he asked gently. “You're healthy? And the baby too?”

Hot tears sprang to her eyes, and her throat thickened so she couldn't speak. She nodded yet again.

“You must have been more shocked than I am,” he said, his voice like velvet.

A sob burst from her mouth, and she clapped her hand over it. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she nodded vehemently.

He pulled her into his arms and nudged her head to rest on his chest. She cried and clung to him as if she were falling over a cliff and he was her lifeline. “I thought it had to be a mistake,” she said between sobs. “I was convinced I was sick, like my mother . . . I mean, what else could it be? When he said I was pregnant, I didn't believe it and went back for more tests.” Sniffling, she pulled back enough to look into Charles's eyes. “But there it was, on the ultrasound. A baby. I heard its heartbeat, Charles. And that just . . .” She dissolved into more sobs.

“Oh, honey.” He wiped her tears away with gentle hands. “Shhhh. Everything's going to be all right.”

She gaped at him as she tried to calm herself. “You're not angry?”

“Angry?” He looked at her as if she were crazy. “I'm stunned, I'm in shock, but why would I be angry?”

She couldn't process his reaction. He wasn't angry. But what did he think of her? “I didn't lie to you, Charles,” she said, sniffing back the tears. “I didn't think I could get pregnant. I didn't trick you. You have to believe me.”

“What? Of course I believe you!” he said. “Wait a minute. Is
that
why you didn't tell me right away?”

She nodded sheepishly. “Partly. And I . . . well, like I said, I was in shock.”

“That's understandable.” He wiped her damp face again. “This . . . wow. It's incredible. Sweetheart, you must be so happy. Are you happy?”

“Yes, of course!” she said. “The doctors were so sure I'd never have children! It just doesn't make sense that this baby even exists.”

“It was meant to be,” Charles murmured. His gentle smile melted her heart. “When are you due?” he asked.

“July. July thirteenth.”

“Another summer baby. Okay then.” He grinned. “Thomas's birthday is at the end of July, and Ava's is in August. I'm a pro at summer birthdays. No sweat.”

She pulled back, wiping her wet face. “You're really okay with this?”

“Lisette.” He tried to smile, but there was hesitation, and she sensed it. “Right now, my main concern is making sure you and the baby are both healthy. With your history . . . I'm going to find specialists first thing tomorrow, if that's all right with you.”

“Sure, if you want,” she said. She looked around the room; a box of tissues was on the elaborate cherrywood desk. He waited as she wiped her face, blew her nose, and took some deep breaths.

“Now,” he ventured, “about your moving out. I don't understand why you think you have to leave. Especially if you're pregnant . . . I want you closer than ever, so I can keep an eye on you and the baby.”

The nasty conversation between the two women resounded in her head. “I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay there. It's bad enough that you're sleeping with your nanny, but when it gets out that I'm pregnant, too? Charles . . .”

“That's crap. That's not it,” he said tersely, then pinned her with a forceful look. “When I find out who said or did something to upset you tonight,” he said in a low, lethal tone, “I'm going to make them regret they ever even looked your way. And honey, I
will
find out.”

A chill ran over her skin.
That
was the Charles Harrison III the rest of the world saw, and it was both striking and intimidating.

“As for us not seeing each other anymore,” he continued, “if you're pregnant, why the hell would we stop seeing each other? That makes absolutely no sense. Make me understand.”

Her breath caught and stuck in her chest. “I . . .” The now-familiar hormone-induced exhaustion after a good cry was taking over her system. “Can we talk about that more later? I honestly need to lie down. I feel like I could fall down. It hits me hard lately.”

She could feel the frustration bubbling underneath his cool surface. But he held a hand out in the direction of the bedroom. “Please, go ahead.”

She walked into the bedroom and gasped softly. Low light reflected off the cream-colored walls, and a king-sized bed covered in a luxurious duvet and ornate throw pillows called to her. “What a beautiful room.”

He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes canvassing the space before going back to her. “Lisette. This conversation is far from over. You know that, right?”

She nodded. “I just get so tired lately; when it hits like this, I can't even think.”

“Okay.” He scratched his head as he said slowly, “You know . . . a lot of little things make sense now,” he said.

“What do you mean?” She slipped off her shoes and went to the bed. Running her hand over the soft bedding, she could feel the high quality in the threads.

“Your falling asleep, repeatedly, at strange hours. The look on your face when I handed you the champagne tonight.” His mouth quirked. “You looked at it like I'd handed you a glass of toxic waste.”

She couldn't help but giggle. “Yeah, I can't drink for a while.”

“And in Aspen . . .” He watched her climb onto the mattress and lie down. “When you threw up. That wasn't low blood pressure, you little liar. Was it?”

“No,” she admitted. “But at that point, I didn't know what was going on. And you looked worried, and I didn't want you to worry.”

“That's you. You're always thinking of the other person.” He walked to the bed and stood at the foot of it, gazing down at her. “But right now, even if you think you're doing right somehow by trying to end what we have? It's the first selfish move you've made, my dear.”

Her stomach did a wavy little roll. “No, it's not. I'm not being selfish. I'm . . . God, I don't know how to get through to you, how to explain what I'm trying to do here so you'll understand. Sometimes you're so set on what you want that you don't listen. And I . . .” She yawned.

“You look drained. I'm not going to push you tonight.” His jaw set as he held her eyes. “But tomorrow, you're going to tell me what happened here tonight, because I know something did.”

Her eyes closed. She didn't have it in her to argue with him, and she didn't want to. He knew the truth about the baby now, and that was what mattered most. She'd figure out the rest as she went.

* * *

When she opened her eyes again, the room was dark, and she was disoriented. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was . . . and to realize Charles was asleep in the bed beside her. He'd stripped down to his boxer briefs and was sleeping soundly. She slipped out of the bed to remove her gown; she couldn't believe she'd fallen asleep in it. After laying it out on the loveseat across the room, she went to the window to peek outside. It must have been two or three in the morning; the streets were quiet, barely any cars or people, which was a strange sight in Manhattan. The lights of nearby buildings twinkled in the darkness.

She turned back to stare at the handsome man in the bed. He looked peaceful now. He'd taken the news well, but he also knew her well, knew something had spurred her to leave, and was frustrated and upset. She knew he wouldn't stop until he understood why.

For the first time in a long time, she wasn't looking forward to tomorrow. She was dreading it. She knew what she had to do, for his sake, for hers, and for the baby's. Charles was strong . . . but dammit, so was she. Her mother had fought cancer like a warrior, and her father had been a real-life warrior. She didn't call on that inner strength often, but when she did, she could be just as formidable as any of the Harrisons.

She crossed back to the bed and slipped beneath the covers, careful not to wake him, but snuggling close. This could be the last time they shared a bed. With his warm nearness, her body betrayed her. Lust sparked low in her belly, the heat of it shooting through her blood. She knew it wasn't right, considering she was going to end their relationship the next day, but she wanted to be with him one last time. Her fingers lifted to his face, tracing the outline of his gorgeous mouth before trailing down, as she savored the feel of his skin, his broad chest, his belly, over his ass and up his smooth back.