Weekend Agreement (4 page)

“I didn’t have to twist your arm too much before you accepted.”

“You didn’t give me much choice.”

Charlotte considered tossing her drink in his face. She resented the tone of his voice, the way it implied she’d done something wrong.

“Don’t expect me to be all mushy and grateful because you’ve decided to act civilized,” she snapped. “Our deal is for Saturday evening. Period.”

“Our deal, Professor, is that you will accompany me to this anniversary party. Accompany. That means ‘go with,’ which means you’re with me when I go. And if I choose to go the evening before, then so do you. That is, if you still wish to keep your end of the bargain. We wouldn’t want you to miss out on what you want, would we?”

His black eyes flashed, like the lightning in the storm he’d been talking about. Charlotte studied her shoes. She might have pushed her luck too far. Daniel Moretti wasn’t some quiet easygoing guy. He was a shark. In his world, she was a little fish.

She thought about her aunt’s farm. Unknown to Daniel, she’d walked the property last night. The roses in the garden were long past their prime, the grass given over to weeds. But the garden gate still hung on its hinges and the tire swing still hung in the big oak tree.

Aunt Helen had told Charlotte stories about how her mom used to try and hug that oak, wondering when she’d be old enough to get her arms all the way around. Charlotte tried to hug the tree last night. The circumference was too much for her arms.

If Daniel and her brother got their way, that tree and the house and all the memories would be plowed under. Wiped out to make way for a sea of four-bedroom colonials. Maybe her brother wanted to eliminate the traces of their mother, but Charlotte couldn’t. As she told Judy, those traces were all she had.

So she had no choice but to jump through another hoop. She’d made her deal with the devil. Now she’d have to live up to the terms.

“Fine,” she said. “You can pick me up at seven o’clock. But just because I’m going to the island with you on Friday doesn’t mean I’m spending a single additional minute with you. I’ll meet you in the hotel lobby Saturday evening.”

“Actually…”

“Actually, what?” She narrowed her eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She should have known he’d throw out another hoop.

“We’ll be staying at my stepfather’s estate.”

“No.”

“Believe me, it’s not my choice either. But we’re talking about a family event. I can’t very well not stay with them. It wouldn’t be—”

“Let me guess…appropriate.” Charlotte glowered at him.

He simply nodded. “Exactly.”

Stress and frustration ran rampant through her body. Letting out a sigh, she tapped her foot rapidly against the step, clenching her jaw and trying to remain composed. This whole fiasco was getting out of hand. Who knew what other tricks the jerk had up his sleeve? Maybe Judy was right, and it was time to let go. The papers weren’t signed yet. She could walk away…

Or she could try to sweeten the deal. What the heck; it was worth a shot. “Ten percent,” she said out loud.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You want me to stay at your family’s place, take ten percent off the sale price.” She sipped her soda demurely, waiting for his response.

Daniel raised his eyebrows. Beneath them, his eyes sparkled with humor. “I think you’re a little mixed up. I’m doing
you
the favor.”

“No, we’re doing each other a favor. If you’re going to keep adding caveats, you have to expect me to renegotiate better terms.”

“Point well made,” he conceded. “But ten percent? I don’t think so. Five.”

“Seven. And a half.” Charlotte wasn’t going to back down. He already had her jumping like a trained circus animal. This little negotiation might not be much, but it kept a little bit of her pride intact.

“Deal.” He pulled some papers from his briefcase and started making notations.

As he marked up the contract, Charlotte sat back. Winning her point made her feel a bit more in control, and thus allowed her to relax. For the first time, she took a close look at the man with whom she would spend the weekend.

He looked different in the sunlight. In his office, she’d first been too intimidated, then too shocked, to notice anything more than his surface good looks and dark demeanor. Now she could see that his skin was ruddier than she expected. The summer sun had tinged his cheeks and worn tiny creases near his eyes.

She glanced down at his hands. They too were tan and weathered. And strong-looking. So very strong.

Her mouth ran dry and she suddenly grew light-headed. The heat must be getting to her, she thought, and took another drink to cool off.

“Motion sickness,” Daniel said.

The sudden change in topic caught her off guard. Charlotte blinked, wondering if she missed something in her dizziness. Daniel was still studying the papers in his hand.

“I get it very easily,” he said. “Airplanes, boats, you name it. The very thought of motion makes my stomach churn. If I must fly, I do everything I can to make the flight as smooth as possible. If the weather moves in early Saturday…well, let’s just say I’d rather avoid the turbulence.”

The admission surprised her. It took a moment for Charlotte to realize it was a form of peace offering. “Is that why we’re leaving a day early? So you won’t embarrass yourself on your shoes?”

He nodded, the pink in his cheeks growing a little darker. “I’m afraid so. Spending time with my family is stressful enough. No sense adding nausea to it.”

“You don’t get along with your family?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Am I walking into a nest of vipers?”

“Nothing that dramatic. You’ll be fine.” He half-smiled. “They’re usually very nice to strangers.”

There it was again, that strange, even tone. Perhaps it was being outside, away from his natural surroundings, but this time she could detect the bitterness in his voice. And the loneliness. Their eyes met, and briefly, a connection born of understanding flickered between them. Suddenly Daniel Moretti didn’t look so all-powerful; he looked like he needed a hug.

Before Charlotte realized what she was doing, her hand rose in the air. Catching herself, she patted some loose strands of hair instead.

“I can’t believe you like sitting out in this heat,” she said.

He seemed grateful for the change of subject. “When you’re cooped up in air-conditioning all day like I am, you’ll take any kind of fresh air.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call this fresh. Heavy. Insufferable. But definitely not fresh.”

“Doesn’t bother me a bit. Sometimes I wish I could have built an outdoor office so I could stay out all day long.”

“You’re a powerful man. Why not order all your board meetings outside? You could build a big canopy on the waterfront. Create a whole new style of doing business.”

He laughed. “Yeah, management alfresco. Too bad it wouldn’t work. I’m afraid I’m doomed to air-conditioning.”

“Air-conditioning certainly does have its benefits.” Charlotte stretched her legs out in front of her and tilted her head back. The sun baked down on her on face.

A tiny trickle of sweat ran between down her temple and behind her ear. Daniel was right about one thing. The heat didn’t bother him a bit. He still looked cool and crisp. Meanwhile, she was melting. Soon she would be nothing but of pool of cotton running down the stairs.

Her soda tasted cold as it ran down her throat, quenching her thirst. Closing her eyes, she tilted back her head and pressed the can to her skin, letting the condensation evaporate and cool her body.

A coughing sound forced her to open her eyes. Daniel was staring at her, looking, at last, a little flushed. His eyes were almost black. Like sparkling onyx. Staring into them, Charlotte’s throat ran dry and breath quickened. Slowly, unable to look away, she straightened herself.

“I should go,” Daniel said. “I’ve kept you a long time.”

Charlotte couldn’t answer, too trapped in the pull of his gaze. She watched, her eyes still locked with his, as he rose to his feet. Then he offered his hand.

Whether it was the heat going to her head or the surreal feeling enveloping her, Charlotte didn’t know, but the steps shifted when she stood. She fell forward slightly, grasping onto Daniel for balance. A few drops of cola spilled out onto his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” she gasped. She brushed her fingertips across the spots and then stopped. The arms beneath the shirt were hard and muscular. Embarrassed, she lifted her hands off him. “It must be the heat,” she offered lamely.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answered. His eyes, which before had threatened to bore holes in her soul, now looked at her skeptically.

“Have you regained your balance?”

Charlotte nodded, regaining her composure now that the moment was over. “Normally the heat doesn’t bother me. I don’t know what prompted that.”

“Must be low blood pressure from sitting so long.”

“Maybe that’s it.” Charlotte took a long, last drink from her soda. Something had shifted in Daniel. He was stiffer, more detached than a minute ago. More like the man she met in his office.

Probably worried she would douse him with champagne or step on his feet Saturday night, she told herself. Actually, she was glad for the shift. His coolness helped her regain her composure, and kept foolish thoughts, like what his arms would feel like embracing her, from entering her head.

“I should probably get in the air-conditioning,” she added.

“Perhaps you should. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. My office will call to get directions.”

“I promise not to be so clumsy on Saturday.”

He bent to retrieve his belongings, giving her a strange little smile as he did so. “Of course you do,” he responded in that flat even tone of his.

He handed her a pen. “Should we formalize everything? Make sure we both know where we stand this weekend?”

Charlotte took his pen. Daniel was all business now. The warmth from before was completely gone. Funny, she thought to herself, scanning the pages of their agreement. She felt as if she had just failed a test.

…

Judy ambushed her when she entered the building. “Tell me everything.”

“I got him to take seven and a half percent off the purchase price.”

“For what?”

“For agreeing to stay at his parents’ estate.”

“You’re kidding.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Apparently the family expects it. And truthfully, I feel a lot safer staying with Mom and Dad than at a hotel.”

“At least in a hotel you can change rooms if there’s an adjoining door.”

“Still think he’s a tiger ready to pounce?”

“More so the minute he walked into your office. Moretti should bottle that testosterone of his; he could make another couple million. You better watch it, or you’ll find yourself repeating that little scene on the steps.”

“That was low blood pressure. I lost my balance.”

“From my vantage point it looked like you were swooning.”

“It’s hard to see things straight when you’re spying through a door. Besides, I told you before, everything’s in writing, including the hands-off clause. We signed an agreement.”

Her friend caught her by the arm, forcing Charlotte to look her in the eye. “Words, Charlotte, just words. Guys like Daniel Moretti don’t write agreements they don’t know how to get around.”

…

Eyes closed, Daniel leaned against the headrest and let the air-conditioning blow in his face. How many women had he slept with in the past decade? How many beautiful, seductive beauties with hopes of getting their manicured fingers on his money? Too many to count. Too many to be affected anymore.

So what was it about one dark-haired history professor? What was it that seeing her press a soda can to her skin had his blood shooting straight to his groin? He wanted to lick the beads of sweat from her skin. Better yet, he wanted to be those beads of sweat and glide across her surface.

Until she pulled that silly stunt and brought him back to his senses. Pretending to lose her balance. You’d think a professor would come up with a more original way to end up in his arms.

Any other circumstance and he would have sent their contract by courier, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to push her buttons a little more. Test her, too. Making her fly out a day early and stay with his family–all hurdles designed to gauge her conviction. The last thing he expected was to tell her about his motion sickness. He never told anyone. Instead he made sure his companions traveled separately, the better to maintain distance. Yet he not only told her, he planned to travel with her. Again, what was it about Charlotte Doherty? Either he was losing his edge or he wanted to break that damn proprietary clause of hers.

Would that be so bad?
a voice asked as the image of her flushed skin popped into his head. Simple answer, no. So long as the call was his to make. But he’d be damned if he let a woman seduce him.

You mean more damned, don’t you?