The Bachelor (12 page)

Point to Rick, Roman thought and met Charlotte’s gaze. If she knew he wanted only to relieve her of his brother’s company,
she wasn’t letting on. In fact, when she looked at him, her normally warm eyes were cold as ice.

He’d wanted her anger. On some level, he’d courted it intentionally so that he could more easily put her behind him and go
on with his mission. But talking to the women in this town had left him empty inside. And his feelings for Charlotte were
as strong as ever.

How the hell could he find another woman to marry—and sleep with—when the only one he desired drew him back to her over and
over again?

“Rick, please? If Roman’s worried, he obviously sees something worth checking on.”

When Rick didn’t move, Charlotte spoke. “Tell you what. You two talk.
I’ll
check on Raina.”

Before either brother could react, Charlotte disengaged herself from Rick’s grasp and sauntered over to the other side of
the room, far away from either Chandler brother.

“You’re lame, pathetic, and obvious,” Rick muttered.

“So are you. And it’s not like you’re interested in anything more than a good time, so keep your goddamn hands off. She deserves
better.”

Rick studied his brother. “I like women’s company. All women, and there’s not one in this town who doesn’t know the score.
They don’t get involved if they’re looking for more. I enjoy them, they enjoy me, and no one gets hurt.”

“Especially you?”

“Including me.” Rick shrugged, but the flicker of hurt flashed in his eyes.

Roman immediately regretted the pointed barb he’d shot his brother’s way. No one deserved to be used and hurt the way his
middle brother had. Especially since he had everyone’s best interests in his heart at the expense of his own.

“Rick …”

“Forget it.” He brushed away Roman’s concern with his easy Chandler grin.

Roman groaned. He knew he’d overreacted. He wasn’t worried that Charlotte wanted anything more from Rick than a friendship.
But rational knowledge didn’t mean Roman wanted to watch Rick’s too-friendly touches on Charlotte’s skin.

“Any chance you could enjoy someone else’s company?” he asked his brother.

“Why? Because she’s yours?”

When Roman didn’t respond to the bait, Rick stepped back, appraising him with the cop look that said,
I’m figuring things out.
“
You’re
the one in the market for a longdistance wife, little brother. If you’re so worried about Charlotte deserving better, seems
to me you’d better take your own advice.”

“No shit,” Roman muttered.

“Back off. You’re hurting her with mixed messages.”

Roman knew Rick better than anyone, and he recognized that his brother was looking out for Charlotte’s best interest, and
pushing Roman in the right direction at the same time. Rick didn’t care if Charlotte went into Roman’s arms or away from them
as long as neither Roman nor Charlotte got hurt. It was his brother’s protective nature at play. The same protective nature
that had gotten him in trouble once before.

But much as Roman hated to admit it, Rick had a good point. Roman
was
sending out mixed messages. Charlotte had spent over ten years avoiding him and then, when she finally took him up on his
overt signals, what did he do? He rejected her out of self-preservation—at her expense.

Rick slapped Roman on the back. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, I think I’ll set your mind at ease and check on Mom.” He
turned and headed for Raina and Charlotte, leaving Roman to choke on his own words, the taste of them sour in his mouth.

After another half an hour of attempting to interest himself in the single women of Yorkshire Falls, Roman knew he was failing
miserably. And all because of the green-eyed woman who’d bewitched him from day one. Then there was his middle brother, who
was hanging around Charlotte, baiting and aggravating Roman—intentionally, no doubt. If Rick was looking to get a reaction,
he was too damn close to succeeding.

Especially when Roman turned toward the door in time to see Charlotte and Rick walk out together, his brother’s hand on the
small of her
naked
back. He’d worry about self-control tomorrow, while self-preservation, he decided, was way overrated.

He stormed outside and into the dark night without looking back.

Raina watched her middle son leave with Charlotte to check on Beth Hansen while her youngest ran out of town hall, all eyes
on his abrupt and angry departure. Her sons knew how to make an entrance, but they had to work on their exits.

Still, she couldn’t deny the sweeping sense of relief she felt with their departures. She’d have to sit tight. Though she’d
love a dance, she couldn’t afford gossip to reach her boys. They were too smart and might just figure out her scam if she
wasn’t careful. Keeping up the charade of poor health was more difficult than she’d imagined when she’d concocted this idea.

She shook her head, then glanced over at the punch bowl. Samson had long since disappeared to be replaced by Terrie Whitehall,
Roman’s leftovers. She sighed. Much as she adored her boys, she hated the devastation left in their wake. Raina felt particularly
protective toward Charlotte. And the last thing she wanted Charlotte Bronson to be was a Chandler casualty.

A daughter-in-law, now, that was another story. “Looks like there are renewed sparks between Roman and Charlotte,” Raina said
to Eric, pleased her youngest had shown emotion where Charlotte was concerned.

She didn’t put much stock in the way he’d sashayed from female to female tonight, ignoring the one who interested him most.
And she knew Rick’s interest in Charlotte was purely platonic, meant to rouse his sibling’s jealousy and perhaps get him to
make a move sooner rather than later.

Raina liked that idea. It just might work—if Roman didn’t kill Rick first. “Those boys will be the death of me,” she said
aloud.

Eric bit into the carrots they’d loaded onto a plastic plate earlier. “You’re mothering again.”

“Do you think Roman’s gone after them?”

“Do you think he wants us speculating?”

Raina shrugged. “I’m sure the rest of the room’s doing the same. He wasn’t exactly discreet about his departure.” She tapped
her fingernail against the seat of the metal folding chair. “Come to think of it, neither was Annie. Poor Charlotte. Do you
think Annie’s depression is curable?”

He sighed. “Do you think I’m going to discuss a patient with you?”

“Potential patient. Charlotte said she wants you to treat her mother—assuming she has any kind of condition other than lovesickness.
Charlotte’s a sweet, caring woman. She’d make a wonderful wife and mother. Speaking of babies …”

“Let’s not.” Eric picked up another carrot from the plastic plate he held on his lap, dipped it into low-fat salad dressing,
and popped it into Raina’s mouth.

She would have been offended if his tone weren’t so deep and compelling and his touch weren’t so warm. A long-forgotten heat
rose inside her, starting in the pit of her stomach and spreading wide.

She chewed and swallowed the carrot, giving herself time to accept and adjust. “You’re trying to distract me,” she said when
she’d finished eating.

“Your boys are gone. You don’t need to act so frail anymore. How am I doing?” He dipped and held up another carrot. “In the
distraction department, I mean.”

“Not bad, for an old man.” She smiled, unable to believe she was flirting. Raina didn’t care if distraction was Eric’s intent,
she liked the male attention and discovered she’d missed it more than she’d realized.

“Who are you calling old?” He dotted the carrot on the tip of her nose and quickly kissed off the bit of dip he’d left behind.

Desire she couldn’t mistake swelled in her chest. “You certainly don’t make me feel old,” she murmured. She didn’t even care
that they were in a public place where anyone could see.

“I should hope not.” He laughed and leaned closer, so he could whisper in her ear. “And I’m betting in time I can make you
feel even younger. So young you’ll forget your quest for grandchildren and think about only me.”

“I’d like to see you try.” And try, and try. As long as he continued to make her feel young, vibrant, and alive, he had her
permission to experiment all he wanted. She hoped Roman intended to do the same.

With Charlotte.

Charlotte left town hall with Rick and together they went to check on Beth. She rented a room in an old house on the outskirts
of town. With its wraparound porch, trellis, huge front lawn, and the sunlight that shone into the kitchen, the house had
the ambience of home. It was the exact type of place Charlotte had always dreamed of living in one day, when she had a family
of her own. It was the dream she’d had when she wasn’t fantasizing about faraway places with exotic names and incredibly beautiful
scenery illuminated by glistening water and the sun’s glorious rays.

Sometimes Charlotte thought she had a split personality, two people living inside her craving two different things. Still,
both scenarios included sunshine and a happy ending, something she wanted for Beth too.

And there was no hint of either in her friend’s expression, which made Charlotte want to strangle Dr. Implant. “Why couldn’t
he make it this weekend?”

Beth shrugged. “He
said
he had an unexpected speaking engagement.”

Beth turned and stared out the window.

“Is that new language for
something suddenly came up?
” Charlotte whispered to Rick.

He shot her a warning look, which she heeded. But she just didn’t understand why Beth’s fiancé didn’t bring her to the city
or pay more attention to the woman he claimed to love.

“Maybe something suddenly did come up. Like a speaking opportunity he couldn’t turn down.” Rick walked up beside Beth and
put a friendly arm around her shoulder.

“Then why didn’t he ask me to join him in New York?” She turned to look at Charlotte.

Charlotte inclined her head, having no answers. Her friend had a valid point, but she wasn’t about to admit it now.

“Maybe he didn’t want you to be bored,” Rick said. “And maybe—”

“He’ll make it up to you,” Charlotte added, picking up on his list of possible explanations. He obviously sought to protect
Beth’s already bruised feelings, and he was right. There was time enough for Beth to face and accept the truth—whatever that
was. Tonight she just needed her friends.

Charlotte glanced over to where Rick was showering Beth with attention in a futile attempt to restore her humor and self-esteem.
Beth was even smiling at his bad jokes. At least someone was helping. Charlotte was in too foul a mood to do her friend much
good.

First her mother disappeared out a side door just as Dennis Sterling walked in the front entrance, then Beth missed the town’s
big night because she’d been stood up again. Charlotte didn’t know what was worse, a woman relying on a man for happiness
or being manless and miserable.

Her stomach cramped and her heart lodged in her throat. Charlotte knew she was comparing herself with both Beth and Annie,
fearful of being just like them. Both women were unhappy over a man. Even if
miserable
was too strong a word for how Charlotte was feeling now, she couldn’t deny that the emotions Roman evoked within her were
strong.

He treated her to sexy come-ons, encouraging and emboldening her to act, then he shut her down without reason, and followed
up the insult by first ignoring her and then showering other women with his charms. If only sexual attraction were at work,
Charlotte could deal with this better. But her reaction to Roman went beyond the physical. She wanted to know the man inside
the gorgeous body, and that frightened her.

Damn the man anyway. She rubbed her bare arms, wanting to go home. Her two friends were engaged in conversation, Rick providing
a friendly distraction for Beth.

Charlotte slipped out without being noticed. The full moon in the night sky guided her way, the stars providing a glittering
backdrop to the inky background above. The scent of the outdoors—new grass and flowers—accompanied every breath she took.
She tried to give the panty thief some thought. Rick said things had been quiet during the week, but he didn’t consider the
case over or forgotten. Charlotte drew a blank on who could be responsible, so she gave up trying.

Twenty minutes later, she was home and had shed her party clothes and changed into lounging wear—her favorite outfit, a white
tank dress that hung to midcalf with a thick lace ruffle around the hem. She’d snagged it out of the box before Beth could
hang the garment or sell it to a customer. It was one of the few items Charlotte had taken home instead of selling—because
in it she felt feminine yet comfortable, and completely herself.

After mixing a glass of iced tea, she grabbed her favorite book, pushed open the window that led to the fire escape, and climbed
out. The cool breeze brushed over her skin, but she didn’t mind. From the moment she’d seen this apartment, the hidden escape
had been her favorite part of the deal—if she didn’t count the ability to roll out of bed and walk downstairs to work.

Anytime Charlotte climbed out here, she found herself alone, and she adored the solitude. She sat down, the oversized book
in her lap, and began to browse through the pages. Of all the travel books and brochures she owned,
Glamorous Getaways
was her favorite. She’d purchased it with money from her first babysitting job and chosen it because the book highlighted
Los Angeles, with the Hollywood sign nestled in the foothills. Within the City of Angels were the stars and celebrities, people
like her father, she thought, when she was still little enough to dream.

Buying this book had enabled her to picture the places she thought he’d go, the restaurants he’d frequent, and the people
he’d meet there. She’d conjured scenarios in which he’d take her by the hand and introduce her to the beautiful people while
showing her the exotic places. Later, after she’d grown up and realized he wasn’t ever coming back for good, she’d substituted
the dream of him taking her with him to traveling and seeing these places for herself.