“For our romantic getaway,” he said. “I do hope it suits you, because I’ve already chartered a private jet and booked a very expensive, very lush package at a gorgeous seaside resort for the whole family. Sasha too.”
Dorian pulled out his phone, then emailed Charlotte the reservation details. A moment later, her phone beeped with the notification.
Her smile lit up the misty night. “Maui? Really?”
“Forward that to your uncle—proof that you’ve secured the weekend at Ravenswood for him, as ordered. That should at least buy you a bit of breathing room.”
Her smile dimmed. “Oh, right. That’s… Thank you. It’s brilliant.” Charlotte turned away to redo her bun, then forced a laugh Dorian suspected was for his benefit. “I guess you’ve thought of everything, Dorian Redthorne.”
“It’s in my nature, love. Business strategy, tying up loose ends, et cetera.”
“I’ve never been to Hawaii.”
“No?” Dorian’s thoughts drifted to the islands, conjuring up images of the two of them swimming at the resort’s private nude beach at dawn, chartering boats and dining on extravagant seafood dinners, cruising the coastline beneath the stars…
He rose from the bench, dropping the pointless fantasy. The jet, the expensive package—it was all a sham. Reservations booked and paid for, but never to be used, all to make Rudy believe he’d gotten the upper hand.
With any luck, the bastard would be dead before the yacht even left the harbor.
“When this is over,” Dorian said, “perhaps you can take your sister. I’m sure you’d have a lovely time.”
A wounded look flickered in her eyes, a pain that threatened to knock down the last of Dorian’s walls. He had the urge to bend down and scoop her into his arms, carry her up to his bedroom, and peel away every last layer of clothing, every last scrap of fear and doubt. He ached at the memory of her soft skin, her silky kiss, her tight, hot flesh…
But that kind of fantasizing could only end in heartache.
“I’d like you and Sasha to stay the duration,” he said coolly, using the tone he normally reserved for his staff. “Until we’ve taken care of your uncle and Duchanes.”
Charlotte looked up, surprised and a bit confused. “Here? At Ravenswood?”
“Your uncle suspects you’ve tricked me into falling in love with you. Lovers spend their nights together. As for Duchanes…” He curled his fists, resisting the urge to pummel the stone bench. “It’s not safe for you in the city. Not until we’ve located him and eradicated the threat.”
“After what I saw today,” she said, folding her arms across her chest, “you can’t tell me we’re any safer here, Dorian.”
“Here I can at least keep an eye on you.”
“Every minute? Of every day? Because that’s the only way I’d feel safeanywhereright now.” She closed her eyes, a shiver rolling through her body. When she spoke again, her voice was soft and broken. “Besides, I need to get back home. I’ve got some things to take care of.”
“What things?”
“Just… some personal things.”
“Whatpersonal things?” he demanded.
“Seriously, Dorian?” She opened her eyes and got to her feet, that beautiful fire sparking to life once more. “I’m not your staff, or your younger brothers, or your loyal subject, or even your fucking girlfriend. I don’t owe you an explanation about my personal affairs. In fact, you don’t even get toaskabout my personal affairs. You gave up that right the minute you decided we were over.”
“I’d just discovered you were a thief, woman! What was I supposed to do? Roll out the bloody red carpet? Yes, do come in, make yourself at home, take anything you’d like. Shall I fix you a sandwich and a drink while you’re fleecing me?”
“I said I was sorry and I meant it. You don’t get to keep throwing it in my face. Do you need to hear it again? Fine. I’m sorry!”
“Not as sorry as I, believe me.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I’m sorry I ever laid eyes on you.”
“Eyes. Right.That’swhat you laid on me.”
Dorian shook his head, a bitter laugh rushing from his lungs. “Youseducedme, woman. All part of your con, no doubt.”
