The Highest Bidder

“It’s hot.”

He tilted his head to look at her. “Yeah, but nice anyway. What’s wrong, Charlie?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“You seem a little on edge.”

“No, just thinking.”

“About?”

“Lots of things.”

“Want to narrow that down any?” he asked.

“Not really.” She wouldn’t have known where to begin. Besides, it wasn’t as if she could tell him she was being blackmailed. And she couldn’t very well tell him that whatever thoughts weren’t being taken up by the mystery threats were devoted to him. God, could this get any more complicated?

He straightened up, but kept that one arm along the bench, almost close enough to touch Charlie. She had the strangest impulse to lean back into him. But she didn’t do it. “Your friend. She works at Waverly’s?”

“Yeah,” Charlie told him, taking a sip of her tea. “She’s in Accounting.”

He nodded. “Has she said anything about the situation with Rothschild’s?”

“She doesn’t know anything,” Charlie said on a sigh. “And she’s not really worried about it, either. She thinks it’ll all work itself out.”

He laughed shortly but there was no humor in the sound. “I wish she was right. Truth is, we have no idea what Dalton is up to.”

“Ms. Richardson hasn’t said anything more?”

“No.” He frowned and looked out at the bustle of Fifth Avenue. Charlie followed his gaze and thought how odd it was that the world could go on so blithely while she was tied up in so many knots. Brilliant splashes of color sprouted from the flowers spilling from cement planters. Car horns blared, a siren wailed in the distance and a dog walker herded six dogs of varying sizes along the sidewalk.

“I had a good time last night,” he said quietly.

She laughed, keeping her gaze on the street because it was so much safer than staring into his gold-flecked brown eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

He reached out, cupped her chin and turned her face to his. Then he grinned at her and the flash in his eyes took her breath away. The man was absolutely devastating when he smiled and put his heart into it.

“Crazy,” he said as he released her. “But I really did. Not that I’m in any hurry to go back to the Zoo Diner. Appropriate name for it, by the way. But I had a good time with you.”

God, it would be so easy to let herself fall for him when he was like this. Just the touch of his hand on her skin made her yearn for more. The soft smile on his face had her wanting to kiss that delectably curved mouth. He was the most dangerous man she had ever known.

“Vance, what’re you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

She shifted on the stone bench and felt the sun-warmed heat of it soak into her. Looking into his eyes, she asked, “This. With me. Why are you being … nice?”

One eyebrow went up. She had already noticed that he did that when something caught him off guard.

“I have to have a reason for being nice?”

“It’s just—” She took a breath and blew it out. “You’re acting like you’re interested in me and I’m not sure why. Or what you expect.”

He reached over, took her hand and held it for a second or two. Long enough to get her pulse pounding and her heart rate jumping into high gear. Then he gave her hand a squeeze before letting go and said, “I like you. Is that so strange?”

“I guess not.” Though silently she was saying, Yes, it is strange. I’m your assistant. I’m not rich. I have a baby. I’m not the kind of woman you usually spend time with, so what’s going on? She had seen enough photos of him in the society pages of the newspapers to know that most of the women in his life had trust funds, rich ex-husbands or both. So why, she asked herself again, was he coming on to her?

“Good.” He stood up, checked his watch and said, “Lunch is over and I hear your boss is a real bastard about work hours.”

“Yeah.” She stood up, too. “You wouldn’t believe the stories about him.”

He stopped. “There are stories?”

“Millions of ‘em,” she quipped. “But I don’t gossip.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

There was something here, she thought. Just under their words. A feeling. A sense of something that wasn’t being said. Attraction yes, but that wasn’t all and it felt … off. He trusted her and she wasn’t going to do anything to ruin that. But at the same time, she had a threat hanging over her head that jeopardized everything in her life.

Suddenly, Charlie wanted to tell him all of it. To ask for help. But she was too afraid of what he might think. What he might do. She couldn’t lose her job. She couldn’t lose her son.

So, instead, torn with confusion and indecision, she settled for losing her mind.

“I’ll see you at the office,” she said and tossed her iced tea cup into the nearest trash can.

Then she walked alone down Fifth, part of the crowd, but separate. And she felt the heat of his gaze follow her.

“This is starting to become a habit,” Charlie said when she opened her front door to Vance three nights later. He smiled at her and Charlie’s heart did a slow flip and curl. The man was just … overpowering. Even now, when he was wearing blue jeans, a short-sleeved red shirt and a pair of boots, he exuded power and a sensual heat that should have been illegal.

Every evening since the first night he had brought her home, Vance had appeared at her door, and they’d gone for long walks with Jake. Sometimes they window-shopped, sometimes they stopped for cookies and a latte. Most of the time, they just took turns pushing Jake’s stroller and … talking.

And Charlie was getting way too used to it.

Vance leaned against the doorjamb and grinned at her. “Are you complaining?” he asked, then half turned. “Because I could leave …”

“No,” she said quickly. She wasn’t sure what was going on between her and her boss, but whatever it was, she liked it. Probably too much. “Not complaining.”

“Good.” His eyes fixed on her and Charlie’s heartbeat quickened. Then he squatted down to eye level with the toddler in his stroller. “So, Jake, where to tonight?”

The tiny boy squealed with delight and shouted “Ba! Ba!”

Vance looked up at Charlie. “He says a night at the ballet would be clichéd. He’d prefer a stroll through the park.”

“Well, then,” Charlie said, laughing, “by all means.”

Vance maneuvered the stroller out the front door and down the short set of steps to the grass. Charlie pulled the door closed behind her and locked it. Then she paused to take a quick look up and down her street. She loved it here.

Her apartment building had once been a grand old house, built to look like a Tudor-style English manor. Years ago, it had been converted into four apartments. She had the ground-floor apartment on the right side and her friend Katie was just upstairs. Charlie never would have been able to afford an apartment in this area ordinarily, but the owner was an elderly woman currently living in England and she had a soft spot for babies, so she’d made Charlie an excellent deal.

The streets in Forest Hills, Queens, were narrow and decked with trees that looked as though they’d been there for centuries. Her neighbors were quiet but friendly and Manhattan was just a train ride away. But here, New York moved more slowly and Charlie could almost convince herself that she was living in a small town again. It was a perfect place to raise Jake. She looked at Vance smiling at her son and thought, at the moment, everything was perfect.

“Where are you guys going tonight?” a woman’s voice called out and shattered the quiet.

Charlie sighed, turned and looked up. Katie was hanging out her living room window, grinning down at them. She had probably been haunting her window just waiting for Vance to show up. Charlie couldn’t really blame her. This was all so odd, so out of the ordinary …

“To the park,” Vance answered, then picked up the stuffed dog Jake had tossed.

“Have a good time,” Katie said, a teasing tone in her voice. Then she gave Charlie a knowing wink before darting back into her apartment. No doubt, Katie would be turning up with a bottle of wine and a dozen questions later tonight. Charlie only wished she had a few answers for her.

Charlie turned to Vance. “You realize that Katie has told everyone at Waverly’s about your coming to see me every night.”

He shrugged. “Do you care?”

She should, Charlie knew. Getting involved with Vance Waverly was probably a huge mistake. But looking into his eyes, she knew she couldn’t regret a moment of this—whatever it was. Every evening, when the light was just slipping away, he showed up to spend time with her and Jake. And every evening, she told herself not to expect him. Not to look for him. But she did anyway and when she saw him, her heart got a little more involved. How could it not? He was so good with Jake. And so much fun to talk to. And when he took her hand in his, she felt … treasured.

Silly.

“No,” she said firmly, “I don’t care.”

“Good.” He smiled at her as if she’d given him the perfect answer. “So let’s go.”

They walked a few blocks east and the world changed perceptibly. As lovely as her street was and as much as she loved it, Charlie always felt a little twinge of … not envy, exactly, just a bit wistful when she walked through Forest Hills Gardens. Exclusive mansions sprawled behind wide, manicured lawns and what looked like private forests.

“I haven’t been in this neighborhood since I was a kid,” Vance mused.

“You lived here?” Charlie couldn’t imagine living in a more beautiful spot. She could practically see Jake growing up on these gorgeous streets, riding his bike up and down circular driveways, climbing the majestic trees. Of course, that was a completely unrealistic daydream—but what was the point of having ordinary dreams?

“No, a friend of my father’s did,” Vance said. “We used to visit him a lot. Funny, I haven’t thought of this place in years. But it’s really nice, isn’t it? And close to the city.”

“It’s perfect is what it is,” Charlie said, with a little sigh of pleasure.

“Yeah?” He stopped pushing the stroller and looked at her. “If you had to pick, which house would you buy?”

She took a deep breath and smiled. “It wouldn’t be easy to choose, but I do have a favorite,” she admitted, because she had played this little game with herself every time she took Jake for a walk down there. There were brick mansions and bungalow styles. There was even a home with a red Spanish tile roof. But the house she loved had stood out for her from the beginning. Hooking her arm through his, she gave Vance a tug and said, “Come on. It’s a little farther down.”

Halfway down the block, she stopped. Giving his arm a squeeze, she said, “That’s my house. Well,” she added with a half shrug, “the owners don’t know it, of course.”

She always found the chance to walk past the house she considered her dream home. It was like an English cottage only bigger. It was three stories high with sloped roofs and dark red shutters on the windows. There were brilliant splashes of pink and yellow flowers crouched around the long porch, and the wide double front doors were arched, like a storybook castle.

“It’s beautiful,” Vance said.

“It really is,” she agreed, and met his gaze only to find him staring at her not the house. “All it needs is a porch swing.”

“You’d like a swing?”

“Oh, yes. That would be nice,” she mused, staring at the house for another long moment. “Sitting outside, watching the sun go down, saying hi to your neighbors …” Her voice trailed off as she turned her head to look up at him.

A soft, warm wind raced down the street. From a few houses down came the rhythmic thumping of a basketball, and a dog barked just because he wanted to be heard. The light in the sky was easing into twilight and Jake was in his stroller, laughing and talking to himself.

It was a perfect moment.

Vance leaned toward her. Charlie went up on her toes, her gaze drifting from his eyes to his mouth and back again. Her heartbeat was pounding and the world around her seemed to take a breath and hold it in anticipation.

His mouth was just an inch from hers when Jake tossed his stuffed animal and then howled in frustration. The baby’s shout broke the spell growing between Charlie and Vance and she could only be grateful for it.

Infatuation was one thing. Allowing herself to make a fool of herself over a man she would never be able to have was something else entirely.

Quickly, she picked up the stuffed dog, handed it back to Jake and told Vance, “We should get Jake home.”

“I suppose it is getting late,” Vance murmured.

She flashed him a glance, then looked away quickly. It was already too late, Charlie thought. Her heart was involved whether she wanted to admit it or not.

A week later, Vance was wound too tight and seriously on edge. The only one he hadn’t lost his temper with was Charlie. Which was ironic, considering that she was the one who had his insides tied into knots that only got tighter with every passing second.

The woman was getting to him and that had not been in the plan. Every damn day around her, his blood ran hotter, his mind clouded a little further and the idea of having her dug claws of need ever deeper into him.

Add to that the fact that he knew damn well she was lying to him about something. They’d spent nearly every night together. Oh, not in bed. More’s the pity, he told himself. But at dinner, taking Jake for walks or just sitting around her small, tidy apartment in Queens.

Hell, he was going to Queens for her. What was next? Brooklyn? At the thought, he jumped up from his desk chair and stared down onto the tree-lined street below Waverly’s.

Charlie was antsy. Nervous. And getting worse every day. She checked through the daily mail as if afraid of what she might find. She jumped when he entered a room and just yesterday, one of the security guards reported that Charlie had been in the records room, where all the old files and reports were kept. Why the hell would she be down there? And why hadn’t she told him? What was she hiding?

His gut told him something was off with Charlie. Another part of his anatomy told him he shouldn’t care. His mind was stuck somewhere in the middle.

When the office intercom buzzed, he stabbed at the button, focusing all his frustration on it. “What is it?”

“Jeez,” Charlie said. “Bite my head off.”

He rubbed one hand across his face and shook his head even as he smiled to himself. It hadn’t taken long for Charlie to feel at ease in the boss-assistant relationship. “Sorry. A lot on my mind. What is it?”

“Security’s on line 2 for you,” she said a little breathlessly.

“Right.” He didn’t think about the fact that she sounded nervous. Instead, he punched a button on his phone and said, “Waverly.”

“Mr. Waverly, this is Carl in Security. You asked us to let you know if anything out of the ordinary happened.”

“Yeah?” Hell, he’d had the whole place on alert for the past couple of weeks in hopes that they might catch whoever might be trying to sell them out to Rothschild’s. Now that they had something, though, Vance wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear what was coming.

Carl said, “We had the IT department keeping a tight lock-down on sensitive areas—in general, setting up their version of alarms. They alerted us to the fact that someone in your office was trying to access secure files this morning. And it wasn’t from your computer.”

This morning, when Vance had been at a meeting with a potential client. When Charlie was alone in the office.

“What files?” He shot a look at the closed door separating him from Charlie. Was she worried, knowing that he was talking to Security?

“Apparently,” Carl told him, “they were older records on minor auctions. According to the IT guys, this person didn’t get to anything important. A new firewall’s going up as we speak so everything’s secure.” Carl paused and asked, “Is there anything you’d like us to handle?”

“No.” His brain was racing and anger was beginning to churn inside. He needed to take care of this himself. He needed to look Charlie in the eye when he confronted her, because only then would he know for sure if she was being honest. Her face gave away everything she was thinking, feeling; he’d already learned that much about her. And hell, for all he knew, it hadn’t been her. She might have been in another part of the building and someone else had slipped in to use her computer just to incriminate her.

He wasn’t going to assume she was guilty of anything. Not yet, anyway. But he didn’t like it. He didn’t like the notion that Charlie was a traitor.

“I’ll take care of it,” he told Carl and hung up a second later. All he had to do now was figure out how.

Seven

Charlie hated this. Hated feeling on edge all the time. Hated the sense of guilt that seemed to cling to the edges of her mind constantly these days.

Vance was being so nice. And she was lying to him. Every time she spoke to him, she lied. Her grandmother had always insisted, It’s a lie, Charlie, if you know something and you don’t say so. Same as if you were spinning tales yourself. And Gran had been right. Charlie knew something dangerous and she wasn’t saying anything about it because of her need to protect herself. And her son.

Which made her a liar.

And now Vance was talking to Security. Was it about her? Had someone seen something? Was she being watched by someone besides her blackmailer? Oh, God.

Charlie opened up her email program and clicked Reply on the latest threat she’d received only that morning. When that threat had come in, she’d actually tried to open up the older record files this morning, but she hadn’t gotten far before she had shut everything down. She couldn’t do it. Not to Waverly’s. Not to Vance.

Now she typed in a quick note to whoever was threatening her, asking for more time. Even as she hit Send, she knew it wasn’t going to help. This wasn’t going to go away until she either betrayed Vance and Waverly’s or took Jake and ran.

But where would she run? She had no family now. No one. The only people she knew in the world were here, in the city. She had a little savings, but not enough to set herself and Jake up anywhere else. She sat back in her chair, letting her fears rise up until they nearly choked her. When the light on line 2 went out, she shivered. Vance had finished speaking to Security. What was next? Would she be arrested? Fired?

“Gran, I really wish you were still here. I’d run home so fast …”

And just whispering those words made her ashamed. Running away wasn’t the answer and she knew it. She had to face this. Tell Vance the truth and hope to heaven he believed her when she swore she would never sell out Waverly’s.

Oh, God.

Fear still jumped in the pit of her stomach, but somehow, it was easier knowing that at least she’d made a decision. She knew what she had to do. All she needed was the courage to get it done. Because she knew that once she told him about her past, about where she’d come from, he wouldn’t want anything more to do with her. And oh, she would miss him. But first—

She buzzed his office and waited for his gruff reply. “Yes?”

“Vance, I’m taking a break. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.”

“Sure. Fine.”

He sounded as stern and unyielding as he ever had and she wondered again how a man as ruthless as he was in business could be so different when it was just the two of them. She headed out of the office for the elevator. Before she spoke to Vance, she needed a few minutes with her son.

When she got to the fourth floor, Jake was sleeping.

Charlie slipped into the nap room, walked up to the only occupied crib and stared down at her son. Curled up on his side, Jake had one fist pressed to his mouth and the other curled into his soft, brown hair. His sock-clad feet were drawn up tight and his tiny sighs arrowed straight into her heart.

Scooping him up, Charlie cradled him against her and patted his back until he settled again. She sat in one of the rocking chairs in the shadowy half light and looked down at him through tear-filled eyes. She and her baby boy were alone in the darkened room and his warmth eased some of the chill snaking through her. Smoothing one hand over his hair, Charlie bent close enough to kiss his forehead.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she whispered. “I tried, really. I wanted to give you so much and now I don’t know what to do.”

The baby slept on and Charlie relished the solid, warm weight of him close to her heart. No matter what else was wrong with her life, she had Jake. And she wouldn’t let him down. She would give him a safe, warm world to grow up in.

“I’ll fix it somehow, baby boy. Everything is going to be all right.” Was she trying to soothe her son or reassure herself? She didn’t know and wasn’t sure it mattered.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and she let them fall. Here in the dark, who would see?

“Why’re you crying?”

She stopped rocking, lifted her gaze to the doorway and met Vance Waverly’s steady stare. He was tall, gorgeous and, right now, she could see that his eyes, even in the shadows, were glinting with carefully banked fury.

“It’s nothing,” she said, because what else could she possibly say?

“You’re sitting by yourself, holding your sleeping son in the dark and crying. That’s not nothing.” He pushed away from the doorjamb and locked his gaze on her. Even in the shadows, she felt the power of that cool stare. “I have to know something. Are you a spy, Charlie?”

“I’m not a spy,” she said, patting her son’s behind gently, keeping her voice as quiet as she could. Her tears still rained down her face and as Vance entered the room, she tried wiping them away.

Here it was then. She wasn’t going to get the opportunity to confess. To go to him and tell him everything. Instead, he’d found her out and now he was looking at her as if he didn’t know her at all. But then, she thought sadly, he really didn’t.

He squatted down in front of her and locked his gaze with hers. “What’s going on, Charlie? What is it you’re trying so hard not to tell me?”

“Believe it or not, I was going to tell you,” she said softly as Jake murmured in his sleep. “I just needed to see my son first. Sort of center myself, then I was coming to you.”

Vance nodded. “I do believe you. But I’m here now. So talk to me.”

Still meeting his angry eyes, she shook her head. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about you put Jake back in his bed and you and I take a walk?”

She took a breath and let it out on a heavy sigh. The time for stalling was over. And oddly, the heavy ball in the pit of her stomach that had been her constant companion for almost two weeks was already dissolving. Living with lies wasn’t easy. Telling the truth wouldn’t be easy, either. But at least she’d be able to breathe again.

Charlie stood up, settled Jake back down again, then turned to look up at Vance. Lifting her chin, she whispered, “It’s a long story.”

He took her to the park. Central Park on a bright summer day was filled with locals and tourists and was far enough away from Waverly’s that whatever they said would stay between them. They stayed clear of the lakes and the swimming pool, skirted the carousel and the zoo. He bought them each a bottle of water from a waffle vendor, then steered her toward a wooden bench beside a walking path through the trees.

Vance sat down beside her on the bench beneath an ancient willow. The tree’s branches hung low, its feathery leaves grudgingly waving in the desultory breeze. The scent of flowers and burned coffee from a nearby food cart filled the air as they sat in the dappled shade.

Of course, Vance had followed her when she’d left her desk to take that “break.” Angry and suspicious, he’d felt like a third-rate private detective, slinking along in her wake as she made her way through Waverly’s. He’d had no idea what he might discover, but he certainly hadn’t expected to find her crying over her sleeping son. As her boss, he was wary, suspicious. As the man who … cared for her, he was worried.