Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
He wanted to shout at her that it was none of her goddamn business, but that wouldn’t be fair.
He’d never minded her keeping an eye on his money before.
An extra pair of watchful eyes kept his accountant and financial planner honest. But now, it was more than a goddamn nuisance. It was potentially disastrous.
He stalled with another sip of wine, not because he didn’t have his response prepared, but because he hated the blatant lying and he needed to calm the growing resentment at Tammy’s overprotectiveness as if he were still a young punk.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I took the ten million to make another investment. A very good investment. Potentially groundbreaking.” So far not a lie, technically speaking.
“Tell me about it.” Her eyes spoke volumes about her skepticism.
“I will. After the season.”
“Ha. Are you sure the investment isn’t named Charline Morneau?
She clearly has no money. Look at the way she dresses.
Old clothes. Out of date. Nothing designer.
Is she a first-class gold-digger or what?
” Tammy’s eyes glittered with anger and fear, real raw concern, the kind only a loving sister would have.
His sister’s real anxiety tempered his anger somewhat, but the jolt at her bold words shook him into silence for several beats. He hadn’t expected the bald accusation. But in the end, it was easy to defend with genuine anger in his voice—and some real hurt he was surprised to feel.
“I am going to ignore that remark, Tam, because even for you it’s low.
I don’t care how concerned you are, you are going to have to trust me on this.
I’m not a na?ve kid and Charlie is anything but a gold-digger.
She’s a kind, generous, hard-working research doctor, for Christ’s sake.
She has a heart of gold and no ambitions to steal my money and you will never say such a thing again.
” It wasn’t a question and as he stared his sister down, he had only a mild spasm of guilt about Charlie’s ambitions to steal his money.
Technically she’d bargained for the ten mil. That wasn’t the same thing as stealing.
But his face and conscience cleared as he reminded himself the ten mil wasn’t for her.
It was for her research. It was to save her freaking mother and sister.
Charlie was no more a gold-digger than he was the Dalai Lama.
She was more like Mother Theresa. Albeit a very sexy Snow White version—if that wasn’t an oxymoron.
Tammy sat still until her glare finally eased up after quiet seconds had passed and he hadn’t flinched, not even one muscle movement. Trent’s sister was an expert at reading him, but he was immune from her mind-reading this time since he was genuinely appalled at her accusation.
“I’m glad the dessert hasn’t arrived yet,” Charlie said as she pulled out her chair.
Trent jumped then. He rose and held the chair for her.
She let him and sat, their eyes meeting for a second.
Long enough for him to see the question and concern.
Long enough for him to telegraph reassurance and .
. . something else. Not sympathy. Not lust. Some kind of connection.
There was a bond between them. Forged by their shared secret, their shared goal of a medical breakthrough.
Trent had been thinking of it as an unholy bond. But that didn’t seem right. It didn’t feel unholy now. He felt connected in a good way, by respect and affection, definitely beyond the lust and chemistry he’d been admitting to all along.
The waiter arrived with their dessert before any of them had a chance to say anything, giving Trent the breathing space to right his thoughts, to dispel his anger and some of his tension. Tammy didn’t look at him, instead while she ate her crème br?lée, she paid all her attention to Charlie.
“You know, Charlie, I’ll be in Boston this week and I plan to do some shopping.
I’d love to get to know you better, since you are going to be part of our family.
” Tammy slipped a conciliatory glance at Trent.
“Why don’t you come with me? It would be so much fun.
” She paused once more. Charlie said nothing, waiting for Tammy to finish because it was obvious she hadn’t.
“I’m sure Trent will give you his credit card and carte blanche to buy whatever you want. ”
Charlie snapped her head around to look at him with a stunned question. “I—”
“It’s okay Charlie, you can have my credit card.
My money is your money.” He spoke the words as if he were channeling his father talking to his mother, the ingrained knowledge about what a committed loving relationship looked like, felt like, rising up in him, taking over, as if that’s what he truly had with Charlie.
“That’s very generous of you.” Charlie visibly gulped when she turned back to Tammy.
He felt guilty knowing Charlie would feel as if he were throwing her to the piranhas, but he felt confident that Tammy would behave now.
And he knew what his sister said was true about the way Charlie dressed.
He wanted Charlie to buy new clothes. For real.
By the time they got back to his penthouse in Boston it was four a.m. He had the morning off and films in the afternoon.
He nodded off on the flight but didn’t really sleep, not like Charlie.
He’d accused her of taking some kind of sleeping pill and she took offense.
He was lucky she’d agreed to come back to his place.
If it wasn’t for the testing she needed to do, he knew she wouldn’t have. Flicking on the lights as he walked into his bedroom, he felt Charlie linger at the door.
“Come on in. I won’t bite. I’m beat tonight. Heading straight to sleep.” He started unbuttoning his shirt, watching her stand in the doorway, looking like a forlorn, travel-weary Snow White ready to collapse in spite of her two-hour nap on the plane.
“How about if I take the measurements now?”
He stopped unbuttoning his shirt midmotion and studied her. Then he shook his head. “When I said I was beat, I meant that I’m stripping down and collapsing into bed. I plan to be sleeping soundly ten minutes from now. No testing tonight, Charlie.”
She sighed deeply as she watched him take his shirt off and then unzip his pants. Their eyes caught and held as he pulled his pants off. He thought of pulling his boxers off with them, giving her something to think about, tease her a little, but he took mercy when she yawned.
Standing in his boxers with his clothes strewn on the floor he stared her down, tried to feel what she was feeling.
Then he gave up. He had no idea. He’d thought for certain he could overcome her reluctance this night.
It could be her discomfort with Tammy, could be her discomfort with him, could be that she just wanted to go home to her family, sleep in her own bed.
One thing he could see, though, was that her apprehension held some fear.
And he didn’t like it. Didn’t like the notion that she’d be afraid to spend the night with him.
“It’s okay, Charlie. We’re good. Come on to bed before you collapse where you stand.” Grabbing the covers, he pulled them from the bed and got in.
Watching her chest heave with a sigh under the wrinkled blouse, he felt worse, like he was somehow responsible for whatever was amiss.
“What is it?” He spoke softly. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know. Everything. But you’re right. It’s late and I need sleep. Don’t mind me.” She came in and walked through to the bathroom, closing the door.
He felt like a two-hundred-twenty-pound piece of shit. It made no sense. He owed her nothing, or did he?
He owed her respect. But he had to start with respecting himself. That was hard to do while he broke all the rules of the game, lied to his family and made damn threats to the woman who was saving him.
When Charlie came out of the bathroom, he’d almost been asleep, but the sight of her shocked him back to alertness. She was stark naked.
“I had nothing to wear.” She darted to the bed and scooted under the covers.
“I’ve seen you naked before, Charlie.”
“That was then and this is now.”
Whatever that meant. Trent had no idea. He sucked it up and pushed himself up, groaning involuntarily at the tenderness in his bruised muscles.
It was the usual aches and pains after a game.
But he forced himself to get up and go to his closet where he pulled a jersey from the shelf.
It was a cotton version of the Minuteman team jersey.
He wore them in the off-season sometimes, especially if he was going to an appearance.
Bringing the T-shirt back to the bed, he got in next to her and said, “Sit up. Let’s put this on you.
You’ll be more comfortable. We both need a good night’s sleep—what’s left of it.
” She did as he said and he slipped the shirt over her head, his hands skimming over her opulent breasts, and then he settled next to her. “Better?”
“Much better.”
He reached over and turned the light off, feeling the warmth of her body next to him, feeling sleepy and finally relaxed. She stirred in the dark and spoke into the quiet.
“Thank you, Trent. That was sweet of you. You’re a good man.”
Charlie couldn’t help frowning at Trent as he slept.
It was still dark outside, not even the twinkling lights of the city lighting the skyline at the predawn hour of six a.m. In the end, last night, he’d been so thoughtful.
Too thoughtful. And that’s what bothered her.
It was one thing to be drawn to him physically, but having affection, any affection at all for him was an entirely different matter.