One Summer Night: An Indecent Proposition / Beholden to the Throne / Hers For One Night Only?

Paulo too?

They were wrong, she was sure of it. And when Zander walked towards the meeting room, Charlotte turned worried eyes to him, for had she not been in bed with him last night, had she not been held by him, had she not witnessed his tenderness first hand? But, then, every presumption Nico had uttered rang true, for the only word that could describe Zander’s appearance this morning was savage. Charlotte saw him in a suit for the first time, exquisitely tailored in the darkest of greys. He might have been dressed for a funeral, his tie a slate grey and that jet hair slicked back; he still had not shaved and somehow it spelt insolence. Her eyes begged for reassurance when they met his, and she willed from him a brief smile, a wink, some private reference to last night, to the knowledge that it would all be okay, but instead her eyes met those of a stranger.

‘Is he in?’

It was all he asked, all he wanted from her, and when she nodded he swept past her desk, gave one sharp knock on the door, and did not wait for Nico to respond. He opened the door and walked straight in, and all Charlotte glimpsed before the door closed was Nico standing straight to meet his twin for the first time.

Thank God Nico had warned her as to how she should react, for though there were no really raised voices, there was a brutality to the words that were muffled by the walls. Then there was a scrape of furniture that, had she not been told to ignore it, would have had Charlotte ringing her boss to ensure that all was okay.

And she waited for it to be so.

She waited for it to be the surprise reunion Zander had assured that it would be, except it appeared the meeting was to go down as Nico had feared.

The door opened. Zander went to march out and then harsh words were hurled from Nico, and there were no walls or door now to muffle his anger, no barrier to deflect the strength behind his words.

‘I will not leave Xanos.’ She had never heard her boss so angry. ‘I will stay here as long as I choose. There is still much to find out.’

‘I’ve told you all you need to know.’ She saw Zander turn, his back so taut she saw the stretch of the fabric that struggled to contain muscles that had rippled beneath her fingers last night. She wanted to stop him, wanted to rush over, but she knew it was not her place, knew even then that she had been deceived, especially as Zander spoke on. ‘There will never be a relationship. I do not have a brother, or a mother. You left me with him and now you return—’

‘As if I had a choice!’ Nico’s shout matched Zander’s but his hate did not, for Zander was so full of loathing Charlotte could almost taste it.

‘You lived your rich, pampered life away from Xanos. Now you return like some grandiose prodigal son … But you are not wanted,’ Zander said. ‘You do not belong here. I will build that nightclub, so enjoy the noise of machinery, for it will be nothing compared to the music that will pound in your home night after night …’

‘For what purpose?’ Nico demanded.

‘Misery.’ Zander’s answer was simple. ‘Touch my things, encroach on my life and I will make it my business to ensure the rest of yours is miserable.’

But Nico still had questions.

‘What do you know—’ so badly he need closure ‘—about our mother? Do you know if she lives?’

‘She is dead to me,’ Zander said. ‘She was dead to me the day she chose you. Go find her if you must, show her the son she saved.’

‘She did not save me,’ Nico shouted at his brother. ‘She sold me!’

‘No!’ Zander’s roar was absolute, for only Zander had lived his life, only Zander knew the hell of being the one left behind—and he’d have rather have been sold to the devil than be left a single day with that man who bore the title of father. ‘She saved you—so bask in it, brother.’ He sneered the word. ‘But get the hell away from Xanos, and keep the hell away from me.’

She sat, more at stake than her boss must ever realise, and as Zander swept out she had to resist leaping to her feet. She wanted to demand what had gone wrong with his plans, why Nico was so furious, or was it Zander?

For Zander it should now be over. He had said all he had come to say, yet it did not sate his anger. Still there was a burn in his guts, a need for more. Adrenaline still flooded his muscles, had his heart pounding in his throat with such force he wanted to rip off his tie and tear at his shirt. He was furious that his twin had known, that Nico had stood and faced him as he’d walked in rather than recoil in shock. Insulted by Nico’s outstretched hand, Zander had declined it; instead, he had told him exactly his feelings—that there would be no contact, that forgiveness would never be on the table. That his mother had chosen the golden one, had given Nico the chance of a privileged life and left Zander to survive for himself.

And he had.

Oh, he had.

He did not need anyone.

He had made it alone and would go on doing so.

Would destroy Nico if he tried to get close.

And, now that was over, all he wanted was to get out.

Away from the man who looked like him, away from the reflection that was now in his mirror.

Away from the son that his mother had chosen.

And then, as he strode out, when he would have preferred to hit, or to run, he saw her sitting there, saw the confusion in her eyes and the tremble to the mouth that last night had been his. And he did not want her for Nico, he wanted her for himself.

‘Get your things.’ He snapped his fingers to tell her his haste. He wanted her away, he wanted her upstairs, he wanted her on his bed, and he would forget what he had just seen, forget the brother that never would be, he would lose himself in her. But she just sat there.

‘Get your things!’ Zander said. ‘You come with me.’

He did not understand her hesitation. He was offering her his world, offering more of what they had had last night. ‘You work for me now,’ he clarified, except Nico was walking out of his office and still Charlotte sat there.

‘Charlotte has nothing to do with this,’ Nico said.

‘Except that she comes now with me,’ Zander retorted, without looking at the man he loathed. ‘Come now.’ He gave her one more chance when he gave others none but, pale, she still sat there, her eyes moving from his to Nico and then back to him.

‘I work for Nico.’ Her voice was as pale as her face.

‘My staff are loyal to me,’ came his brother’s voice, and Zander could not believe that she would choose him after the night they had shared. His mind was so black with loathing, so angry having lived a life of betrayal, that there was no chance of straight thinking.

‘Really?’ Zander shot back. ‘Well, that’s not how it seemed when her legs were wrapped around me last night.’ It all came out in one caustic response. Zander watched her quail as the words spewed out, but really the words were not aimed at provoking her and he looked at Nico to relish his response. He wanted his brother to thump him; he wanted a fist because it was pain he could see, a bruise he could feel, hurt that could be measured. He wanted to fight but his brother just stood there, and, worse, Charlotte apologised for the one good thing on Xanos that had ever taken place.

‘I’m sorry, Nico …’ She could not have felt more betrayed, more humiliated, more ashamed—could so clearly see now how she had been used. She could not stand to look at Zander, so she looked at her boss instead. He was the man she should have been loyal to, the man who paid her wages. ‘I’m so sorry, Nico.’

‘No problem.’ Nico was tough, and could be just as cutting as his brother, though the barb in his response, she knew, was not aimed at her. ‘We’re all allowed a mistake—yours just happened to be my brother.’

CHAPTER SEVEN (#ulink_3b388067-e7b9-5752-b578-25121656a888)

SHE lay curled up and wounded on the bed, too mortified to go out, dreading Nico’s wrath, but far more than that she was beyond hurt by what Zander had done.

The contempt, the disregard, how he had used her.

A knock at the door a short while later did not see Charlotte moving. She did not care who it might be: Nico to fire her or Zander, for what?

An apology wasn’t going to fix this.

Instead, when the knock came again, she closed her eyes at the sound of a woman’s voice.

‘Charlotte, it’s me—Constantine.’

She could not be rude to Nico’s wife. She had met her a few times and Constantine had always been nice. Beyond ashamed, Charlotte opened the door, and burst into tears when the other woman wrapped her arms around her.

‘Nico told me what happened.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Charlotte wept. ‘I’m so ashamed …’