Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Charlie
H e was right. There was only one bed. There wasn’t even a couch, just a couple of armchairs that weren’t that comfortable for sitting in, so she couldn’t imagine trying to sleep in one.
Charlie looked towards the bedroom. This morning she’d hoped that’s where they’d end up tonight. But the animosity Rhett had shown towards her when he’d realized who she was changed things, even if he had apologized and calmed down.
She sighed and headed back to her armchair and the abandoned glass of wine. She sank onto the seat, trying to get comfortable and failing dismally. The sounds of the storm raging outside making her jumpy.
“Did you purposely find the most uncomfortable chairs for this cabin?” She asked, stuffing a cushion against one hip to stop the hard wood of the arm from digging into her butt.
Rhett laughed, the sound so unexpected that she gave a little jump. Her eyes shot to his, watching as he padded on bare feet to the other armchair, draping himself on the seat in a way that reminded her of a king on his throne.
He lifted a hand and ran his fingers through his hair, the tee shirt he was wearing stretching over his broad chest. Dear god, he was stunning. Charlie felt her breath catch as she took him in. Legs splayed open, his thighs stretching the denim tight.
She remembered what it felt like to be riding on top of those thighs, his hands gripping her. Squeezing her as if he couldn’t get enough of her. She shifted slightly in her seat, heat pooling between her legs. It was becoming harder and harder to remember that she didn’t want to have sex with him.
She didn’t. She really didn’t.
It would be a bad idea. A really really bad idea.
He smirked, one side of his mouth kicking up and a dimple appearing in his cheek. That damned dimple! Why did he have to have them? She’d always found dimples irresistible.
One of his hands was gripping the back of the armchair behind his head, the other draped casually over his thigh. He reached down and cupped the bulge in his pants, and she jerked her eyes away.
Oh god, she’d been staring! How embarrassing.
“You can keep looking, beautiful. I don’t mind at all.” His voice was a deep drawl that sent shivers over her skin.
She looked away and harrumphed, eliciting a laugh from him.
Charlie needed to get control of the situation. She was here for a reason, and she needed to get the job done.
“Did you read the proposal?” She asked.
His formerly casual expression shuttered to something unreadable, and he shifted to lean forward, elbows resting on his knees. “No.”
It was her turn to smirk. “Let me guess. You left the whole folio on the floor.”
He grunted, his lips pressed into a thin line. She felt a rush of sympathy at his situation. It mustn’t be easy running the type of business he ran. It was seasonal and physically demanding. Getting qualified help in a small town would be difficult unless someone was willing to move to the area.
“It’s not about the money for you, is it?” Her head tilted to one side in consideration. Most people didn’t have a clue what it was like to be her. All they saw was the money. Sure, she’d not wanted for anything material her entire childhood. She’d gone to the best schools and had everything she could ask for. The latest clothes, music, a new car every birthday after she got her license. She had been the envy of all her friends, though it was difficult to call the people she was forced to associate with because of who their parents were, ‘friends’. During college she’d had a blissful two weeks living in the dorms like a normal person until someone found out who her father was.
When she’d gained control of her trust fund at 21 years old—not needing to work a day in her life—she vowed she’d not touch a cent. And she hadn’t in the five years since. Charlotte Sinclair might have the world at her fingertips, according to most, but she wanted to earn her way through life, not buy it.
Rhett’s expression shifted, his lids heavy with dark shadows under eyes rimmed in red. He sighed and rubbed his neck, stifling a yawn. He sat back in his chair, shifting to throw a leg over one arm as if he’d long ago figured out how to sit comfortably in them. She supposed he had, if the furniture hadn’t changed since he’d come here as a boy with his grandfather to go fishing. Which it looked like it hadn’t.
Charlie smiled at the thought, watching Rhett as he watched her. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. He nodded, as if finally coming to some internal decision.
“No, it’s not about the money.”
Charlie smiled in what she hoped was encouragement. “Then what is it?”
“Why?” Rhett’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to sell, so you don’t have to feign interest.”
Charlie’s smile fell. “You really don’t think much of me, do you?” She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, hugging herself to ward off the sudden chill that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. “What have I done? Not my father, not his company, but me. What have I possibly done to give you such a poor opinion of me?”
“Charlie—”
“Oh, don’t. I’m going to bed. You can sleep in your truck.” She untucked her legs and, not giving him another look, headed to the bedroom.
She’d almost made it when a clap of thunder sounded so loudly she dropped to the floor in a crouch with her hands over her ears. Even with her eyes squeezed shut, the accompanying flash of lightning was as bright as daylight. She let out a scream, wrapping her arms over her head.
A loud crack rent the air, a tearing sound of wood splitting, followed by a crash as a tree came down so close Charlie thought she was about to be flattened. The ground shook with the impact, and she whimpered in fright. She could hardly hear the storm over the sound of heart started pounding in her ears, and she struggled to breathe evenly.
“Hey. Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Rhett’s deep voice gave her something else to focus on apart from the storm.
She opened her eyes to see him crouching in front of her, his hands hovering midway between them as if uncertain if he should touch her. Another boom of thunder sounded and before she realized it, she had launched herself into his arms.
“It’s going to be alright,” Rhett said, tucking her head into his chest and gathering her close. “Summer storms aren’t common down our way. They’re usually further away in the mountains.”
Being held by him shouldn’t feel as good as it did. There are plenty of very good reasons to not get involved with Rhett, but as Charlie relaxed in his arms and focused on his voice, her breathing calmed, and she didn’t want to be anywhere else. She slid her arms around him, and he dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“What was that noise?” She asked in a small voice.
“A tree coming down. Sounded pretty close, too.”
“Oh.”
“It’s going to be ok, beautiful. I promise.”
Despite everything, she believed him. Even with the rain smacking against the windows and the wind howling through the trees, she believed him.
Rhett settled against the wall, pulling her sideways onto his lap, his powerful arms around her. She felt worlds away from the violent storm outside.
She pulled back from where her face was buried against his chest. “Rhett?”
He reached up to smooth a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Mmm?”
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
Charlie’s eyes were bright, her cheeks hot as she stared up at him. This was worse than being a teenager with a crush. Her stomach was in knots.
“I like you,” he said simply.
Her brows knit in confusion as she frowned.
“I like you,” he said again, turning her chin gently with one finger so their eyes met. Clear blue and amber tangled. “Charlie. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. You’re funny and determined, and I like you more than I should, considering I’ve known you for less than a week.”
“And because of who my father is,” she said.
He nodded. “And because of who your dad is, yeah.”
Her memories of her childhood were of waiting up as late as her nanny would allow for her father to come home, only to fall asleep on a small chaise lounge in the entryway of their Manhattan apartment. She would see him for a brief few minutes on the weekend if she was lucky. When she had been old enough, she was sent to boarding school, spending holidays alone in the empty apartment her father barely slept in.
Sometimes she wondered what her life would have been like if her mother had lived. Charlie was barely two years old when her mother had left her with her father to marry a tech billionaire. She’d died shortly afterwards when the private jet she’d been in had crashed.
“Is that why you seem into me one minute and then ready to rip my head off the next?” She asked, a twinkle in her eye and her lips twitching.
Rhett barked out a laugh. “I’m not angry at you.” He shook his head. “I’m angry at me.”
“What?”
“I shouldn’t want to be anywhere near you, but I can’t stay away. My grandfather fought for decades to keep that land. He never wanted it sold, he was determined to keep it the way it was so people could enjoy it. He always said that you can’t stop progress, but he was damned if he’d let it run him over.” Rhett smiled wistfully, staring into the distance. He shook his head. “That’s why, beautiful. I can’t sell or I’d be going against everything he wanted.”
“Oh.” Charlie couldn’t think of anything to say.
“He was pretty much my dad. My parents died when I was eleven and he took me in. He was with me longer than my own parents were. I can’t just sell up and go against everything he stood for.”
Charlie’s chest squeezed in sympathy. She knew what it felt like to be caught up in the expectations of family, and she couldn’t fault Rhett.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Why? It was a long time ago.” He smiled and brushed the side of her face with his thumb, his hand cupping her head gently.
“But I’m sorry for barreling into your life and bringing all that up. I can see why you don’t want to sell.”
“You can?”
She laughed. “Don’t look so shocked. I told you I wasn’t like my father.”
He smiled. “You’re right. You did.”
She wiggled on his lap, moving to stand up. He let her go, staring up at her from his position on the floor.
“Well?” She asked, a hand on one cocked hip and a smile on her lips.
“Well, what?”
“Are you coming to bed?”
She laughed as he scrambled to his feet and followed her into the shadowy bedroom.