Miss Charlotte Surrenders

“Primed to seduce someone, you mean,” Charlotte corrected. And with that thought, the only person who came to mind was Brett Forrest.

Just because he had kissed her once, fed her strawberries drenched in whipped cream and went out of his way to annoy her did not mean Brett was interested in her, or vice versa. Sure, there was plenty of chemistry between them, but that did not change the fact that he wasn’t her type. She liked men who knew exactly what they wanted out of life and had no qualms about going after it. Not men who napped on sofas, played at writing a thesis on farming and skulked around eavesdropping on other people’s private conversations.

As for the way she had responded to his kiss, well, that had been due to the surprise of his embrace, Charlotte told herself firmly. And the fact she hadn’t been kissed like that in a long time. Actually, she had never been kissed quite like that, which was another reason to stay as far away from Brett as possible.

The sound of a car broke the silence of the spring afternoon. Paige rushed to the window. “There’s the seamstress now. I’ll go down and get her.” She pointed a finger at Charlotte. “Don’t you go anywhere. And don’t unlace those stays!”

* * *

BRETT STOPPED in the doorway of Charlotte’s bedroom, stunned by what he saw. She was standing in a chemise, corset and petticoats. Her dark hair tumbled down around her shoulders in wild, tousled curls. Her breasts spilled from the lacy top in very alluring fashion.

Green eyes flashing, she whirled to face him. Blushing, she reached for a stack of midnight-blue damask curtains on the bed and held one in front of her like a shield. “What are you doing in here?”

Pretending a nonchalance he couldn’t begin to feel, Brett smiled and sauntered closer. He didn’t know what it was about this place, but it was damn near magical. And so was Charlotte. “You know, you look like you stepped right out of another time,” he said softly. Having closed the distance between them, he twined a lock of her silky hair around his fingertip.

“It’s the clothes,” she said stubbornly as their eyes met and held.

“No,” Brett disagreed wickedly. “It’s not even the lack of them, Miss Charlotte. It’s you, plain and simple.”

Charlotte shook her head at him. Hand on his chest, she pushed him away. “You’re sinful, Brett Forrest.”

Her petticoat made soft swishing noises as she glided away from him. Brett followed. “Want to find out just how much?” he taunted playfully, only half kidding.

Charlotte whirled toward him in a drift of lilac perfume. “No, thank you,” she said haughtily.

Just as he had suspected. Brett grinned, not the least bit anxious to leave. He glanced at the four tall windows that illuminated the corner bedroom. “Why did you tear all the curtains down in here?” he asked. The only thing she’d left were the translucent white sheers.

Charlotte blushed. “That is none of your business!”

Uh-huh, Brett thought, taking in her increasingly guilty expression. She was definitely up to something. What exactly, he couldn’t quite imagine. Unless she was going to stand in front of those sheer white curtains at night and drive him crazy with the silhouette of her undressing piece by piece….

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Charlotte demanded, beginning to panic as she darted around the end of the four-poster bed.

“No reason,” Brett fibbed, making absolutely no effort to erase the mischievous grin from his face as he lazily traced her path. It had been a long time since he had chased a girl at recess. It pleased him to realize he hadn’t forgotten how, because Charlotte was one delectable Southern belle who absolutely begged to be chased, even if she didn’t know it!

“Well, then, why did you come up here?” Having gotten herself stuck in a corner next to the bureau, Charlotte turned and regarded him impatiently. Tapping one ballet-slippered foot all the while, she continued to glare at him and hold the blue damask curtain to her breasts. “What do you want?”

Oh, sweetheart, if you only knew. “Just one more thing,” Brett said lazily. Ignoring Charlotte’s soft gasp of dismay, he grabbed her around the waist and, with a determined tug, brought her close so only the curtains were between them. Then he yanked the curtains from her grasp and tossed them onto the bed, so that nothing was keeping him from feeling every inch of her against every inch of him. “You know,” he speculated in a way he knew would absolutely incense her, “I bet beneath that sweet porcelain skin of yours beats a heart of fire.”

Charlotte’s emerald green eyes widened with a mixture of temper and passion Brett found unbearably exciting. She splayed her hands across his chest as he slowly lowered his lips to hers. She exerted even more force with her hands; he ignored it. “I mean it, Brett Forrest. Don’t even think it!” she warned, her thick dark eyelashes already beginning to close.

“Then I won’t think it,” he said softly. “I’ll do it.”

Her lips were hot and soft, her kiss sensual. He knew she didn’t mean to kiss him back, any more than he could help himself kissing her, and somehow that made the culmination of their desire all the sweeter. Groaning, he deepened the kiss, sweeping her mouth with his tongue, leaving not a millimeter unexplored. He had never felt anything like this in his life. Never wanted any one woman so much, never been possessed so thoroughly and so swiftly. And that was when he knew it had to end, before they both suffered the consequences. With difficulty, Brett lifted his mouth from hers. Charlotte’s mouth was damp and pink. She was gasping for breath as she slowly opened her eyes. To Brett’s further astonishment, she looked dazed and completely besotted. She was still clinging to his neck, looking like she wanted very much for him to start up the kisses again.

It was all Brett could do not to groan again. He wanted more than anything to take her over to her big four-poster bed and lie down with her on it. He couldn’t think of anything sweeter or more exciting. He wanted to feel her against him, without all these damnable layers of petticoats and clothes. He wanted to have her against him, all soft and surrendering.

But it wasn’t going to be today, not with Paige and that seamstress due back in the room at any moment.

“I’d sure like to be the man to bring you to life, sweetheart,” he drawled. To his chagrin, Charlotte looked like she wanted that, too. With all the strength he could muster, Brett released her abruptly and said, “Unfortunately for both of us, I don’t have time for this. I have to mow the lawn.”

“What?” Charlotte sputtered, looking as if she couldn’t believe he had gotten her all fired up and then just let her go!

Brett grinned. It did his heart good to know she was as reluctant to end the steamy embrace as he was. “You should know better than to play with the hired help, Miss Charlotte,” he teased. “But perhaps this will teach you a lesson,” he added with mock seriousness.

Charlotte flew at him with both fists. He caught her wrists before they could connect with his chest. “You are a dead man,” Charlotte said irately, struggling unsuccessfully to free herself. “Do you hear me, Brett Forrest?” she shouted. “A dead man!”

Brett laughed, enjoying more than ever the feel of her in his arms. “You sure are pretty when you’re in a temper, Miss Charlotte,” he drawled. And I sure would like to kiss you again.

From behind them came two soft, feminine ahems.

Face flaming, Charlotte stopped struggling abruptly and turned, as did Brett. Paige stood in the doorway beside a middle-aged woman with a sewing basket. It was obvious from the amused looks on their faces they’d seen just about everything. Brett didn’t mind, but Charlotte sure did.

“Are we interrupting anything?” Paige asked.

He took another look at Charlotte in the old-fashioned chemise and petticoats, her tousled hair and pink cheeks. “Nothing that can’t be continued later,” he promised with a sexy grin.

* * *

“SO HOW IS IT GOING so far?” Franklin asked Brett, long minutes later.

Brett held the phone to his ear as he paced the cottage. He knew he rubbed Charlotte the wrong way, and he was working hard on heightening her feelings of both apprehension and distaste. Adding desire to the mix had confused her even more, and that was good. The more he could distract her from thinking about Sterling, the better. “I don’t think the indefatigable Miss Langston is any closer to finding out who the real Stephen Sterling is yet,” he admitted. “But I also know she’s not about to give up. So maybe a preemptive strike is in order.”

Franklin chuckled. Brett could be very creative when it came to taking care of business. “Got anything specific in mind?”

“Aside from spying on her every chance I get?” Brett drawled, tongue-in-cheek.

“Yes.”

Brett frowned and tried not to think how pretty Charlotte had looked in the old-fashioned ladies’ underwear. He had come here to do a job and couldn’t leave until it had been accomplished. In the meantime, he would have a little fun with Miss Charlotte. “Maybe it’s time we set up a wild-goose chase for her,” Brett suggested finally. Something that would really get her going…in the wrong direction, of course.

“Sounds good,” Franklin said. “And in the meantime?”

“I’ll stay one step ahead of and behind her,” Brett promised.

“Won’t Miss Langston get suspicious if you’re always underfoot?” Franklin asked.

“Not if I sweep her off her feet.” Brett grinned, remembering their last kiss. “Besides, she thinks the nature of my interest in her is largely romantic.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line. “Are you romantically interested in Charlotte Langston?” Franklin asked bluntly.

Brett scoffed at the mere suggestion. “Hell, no. Nosy, spoiled Southern belles are not my type, you know that.”

“Mmm. Well, you just watch yourself, Brett. And remember who is investigating whom here. There’s a lot at stake and not just for Stephen Sterling.”

Brett didn’t have to be reminded of that. His future was riding on this, too. He smiled grimly. “Don’t worry, Franklin. I’ve got everything well under control. No matter how much it irritates her to have me around, Miss Charlotte Langston won’t make a move without me knowing about it.”

Chapter Four (#ulink_bc47dd57-d75f-5deb-99e6-be3f80f6b7ae)