Miss Charlotte Surrenders

“Yes.” Jared kept his eyes on hers.

Charlotte shrugged, feeling uneasy at the suddenly intimate nature of his gaze. “The magazine I work for is located in New York.”

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. “You couldn’t give it up?”

Charlotte drew a deep, enervating breath. “For what?”

“A life here at Camellia Lane.”

Again, his gaze was a little too intense for comfort. Surely he couldn’t be saying… Charlotte backed off. She raised a hand in a cautionary manner. “I can’t think about that today, Jared.” And she meant it.

He set his cup and saucer aside and leaned toward her. “Then when?”

Charlotte drew another breath. “I’ll think about it tomorrow,” she said.

* * *

CHARLOTTE SHUT THE DOOR after Jared and leaned against it wearily. She had tried to make it clear from the outset that she had called him because he was an old family friend—not a potential love interest. Unfortunately, he was thinking of her amorously.

She was going to have to think up some way to let him down gently. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

In the meantime, she had to think of a way to make the balloon payment if she couldn’t locate Stephen Sterling in time. With that purpose in mind, Charlotte marched across the front hall to the library. She was halfway across the room when she caught a flash of movement on the sofa and let out a startled scream.

“Lady, what is it with you?” Brett drawled as he lazily sat up. “Must you always scream people awake?”

Charlotte resisted the urge to slug him for scaring her half to death. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“I thought you wanted me to do more caretaking.”

Charlotte braced her fists on her hips and stood her ground. “What does that have to do with you sleeping on the library sofa?” And why did he have to look so sexy, with his dark hair all rumpled, his blue eyes so vibrant and filled with mischief?

“I came in to see what needed to be done, couldn’t decide and lay down to think about it.” Brett propped his clasped hands beneath his head and made no move to sit up. “Next thing I knew I fell asleep.”

Thank goodness he hadn’t overheard her conversation with Jared, Charlotte thought. It was embarrassing to be on the receiving end of a subtle pass from Jared. “Well, I want you to stop it immediately,” Charlotte said hotly.

“Stop what? Sleeping? Or eavesdropping?” he prodded as he stretched and got lazily to his feet.

Charlotte swore beneath her breath as he towered over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the sun, dwarfing her. She gasped as he took a step nearer. “You didn’t—”

Brett flashed her a crocodile grin. Bracing a palm on the sofa back beside her, he leaned close, the tantalizing scent of Old Spice and soap engulfing her. “I did.”

She knew he expected her to back away. Instead, she clamped her arms in front of her and fumed. “You had no right listening in on what was a very private conversation.”

His glance moved over the soft swell of her breasts before roving impertinently back to her face. Again, the wicked grin. “It was either that or interrupt the tête-à-tête,” he admitted roguishly. “Given the rather…um, shall we say delicate nature of your conversation, I figured you’d prefer me to stay put and stay quiet.” He leaned close. His dark blue eyes glittered with laughter as he reached up to finger a lock of her hair. Sifting the silky strands through his fingers, he pinned her to the spot with a knowing look. “Or was I wrong?” he speculated brashly.

Charlotte was so aware of him she could barely draw a breath. Gathering her wits, she pointed to the front door. “You, sir, are always wrong! Now get out of my house!”

“Why, I’m hurt, Miss Charlotte.” He plastered both hands against the solid wall of his chest and grinned disarmingly. “You didn’t even give me a chance to help you and your beautiful sisters out of your predicament.”

Charlotte was not amused by his clowning around. She regarded him patiently and uttered a long-suffering sigh. “There’s nothing you can do for us.”

“I could offer you a piece of advice.”

“Which is…?” She offered up a sweet smile, totally ignoring the way he looked in those soft, faded, snug-fitting jeans.

“I think you’d best be advised to find yourself another lawyer—someone who is truly on your side,” Brett counseled solemnly.

Charlotte drew a bolstering breath. “Jared is on my side.”

“Is he now?” Brett said in a put-on Southern drawl. “Funny, I didn’t hear him offer up any options except for you to sell out. Unless of course, you count that veiled proposal to start up something with him. Which leads us to the next question. Just how far would you go, Miss Charlotte, to save your beloved Camellia Lane?”

It was a good question, and one Charlotte really didn’t want to think about. She also knew Brett wasn’t about to leave without an answer. “I’ll do whatever I have to do,” she vowed flatly. She would even get down on her hands and knees and beg, if it came to that. Anything to save Camellia Lane.

“That’s what I thought,” Brett said, his disapproval evident.

Charlotte didn’t need Brett or anyone else acting as her conscience. She had enough to deal with as it was.

She put a hand on his sweatshirt-covered chest, intending to shove him out the door if necessary. Big mistake. Beneath the soft cotton, she could feel the swell of solid male muscle. Lots of it. And it was all braced for… Well, she didn’t want to think about that, Charlotte decided as frissons of desire swept through her in undulating waves.

“Find something you like?” he teased softly. Grinning, he stepped closer, until their legs were touching in one long electric line.

His head was dipping toward hers, and she could feel the closeness of his chest and, lower still, the heat from… No! She was not going to let him do this to her, even if he was the sexiest man she had come across in a very long time.

Deciding the sooner she got rid of him, the better, she gave a push. “Out.”

To her surprise, he merely shrugged and began to move in the direction she’d pointed. He sauntered toward the door. No sooner had he gotten to the front hall, however, than he came back to the portal where she was standing.

This time, when she flattened a palm against his chest he didn’t budge. Instead, he covered her hand with his own and tightened his grasp.

“You’re not going to do it, are you?” he persisted, searching her face. “Fire Jared and hire another attorney?”

Charlotte extricated her hand from his. She shook off his touch, trying without success to get rid of the tingles. “I have no reason to consult another attorney,” she insisted stubbornly.

“If you say so,” Brett muttered darkly.

Charlotte stepped past him, opened the front door as wide as it would go and practically shoved him out the portal. “You’re wrong about Jared. He’s noble.” Unfortunately, he also had a misdirected crush on her.

“I see.” The corners of Brett’s dark mustache quirked up wickedly as he smiled. His blue eyes grew dark and intense. He anchored an arm about her waist and hauled her close. “Too noble to do this, I presume?”

Charlotte had no time to react. One minute she was standing in front of Brett. The next thing she knew she was swept up in his arms, bent backward from the waist. She gasped in astonishment as he slowly…slowly…lowered his mouth to hers. “Brett, don’t!” she gasped, feeling both mesmerized and aroused. And then his lips touched hers and the world fell away as he kissed her like she had never been kissed before.

She felt the tickle of his mustache and the warm, insistent pressure of his mouth. The hardness of his chest, the muscular brace of his legs and the iron command in his arms. Desire raced through her in a heartbeat, warming her outside and in. Her tummy was weightless, her knees made of jelly. And still he kissed her, taking everything she had to give.

Feeling as if every romantic fantasy she’d ever had was about to come true, Charlotte started to surrender to the conquering nature of his embrace, then brought herself up short. What was she thinking? Dear heaven, she didn’t have time for this!

Temper raging, she tore her mouth from his and pushed at his chest. He laughed softly, his hand still tangled in her hair; then, as gallantly as any Southern gentleman, he slowly righted her and, just as deliberately, released her.

Charlotte was so disoriented and filled with overwhelming pleasure she could barely stand up, let alone think of anything appropriate to say. Brett knew it. Acting strictly on impulse, she slapped his face.