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“That really makes me feel good,” Charlotte said with a smile. Growing up she’d been taught to donate her time to charitable organizations. Those values were so deeply instilled in her she couldn’t shake them. She was at her happiest when she was doing good things for others.
“Can I ask you a question? Why do you keep putting yourself in the back whenever anyone takes a picture of you in a group?”
Charlotte shrugged. “It must just be a coincidence.”
“No,” Marc disputed her. “It seems very deliberate on your part. I was watching you for quite some time.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, feeling a flash of annoyance with Marc. Why did he even care? Heat flushed her cheeks at the way he was calling her out. His gaze seemed to penetrate all of her outer layers. It felt as if he could see straight through her, right down to all her insecurities.
Marc gazed at her without saying a word. The wheels seemed to be turning in his head. “I think you do, Charlotte,” he said in a soft voice. It was as gentle as a breeze. Awareness flared between them. Charlotte realized Marc wasn’t poking at her. He cared. She didn’t know why, but he did. Suddenly, all of her defenses came crashing down.
“Since you’re so interested, I hate the way I look in pictures. Satisfied?” Charlotte asked in a raised voice.
“I’m hardly satisfied. I’m filled with curiosity. You’re a beautiful woman. That should be celebrated.”
“I’m not.” Charlotte shook her head. “And you shouldn’t say something like that just to appease me.”
Marc knitted his brows together. His gaze sliced through her like laser beams. He took a step toward her, his movements as quick as lightning. Charlotte wanted to take a step back, but she held her ground. The last thing she wanted was for Marc Cabron to think he intimidated her. She wasn’t afraid of him, despite the intense look etched on his face.
“Are you so blind that you can’t even see yourself?” he asked. His tone sounded incredulous.
She smoothed her hair back, one of her nervous gestures. “I-I’m not blind. And I’m not a fool either. I know what I am. I accepted it a long time ago.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And what is that, pray tell?”
Charlotte held her head up high, even though she was trembling.
“I’m a good person with a loyal heart. But I’m ordinary. Plain. There’s no shame in it, but I know what I am.”
The sound of Marc’s laughter rang out in the still of the night. Charlotte bristled.
“I don’t appreciate being laughed at,” Charlotte said, trying to hold her chin up high even though it was trembling. His laughter wounded her.
Why did it even matter to her what Marc thought or believed?
“I’m not laughing at you. Honestly, I’m stunned. That’s why I laughed. And frankly, I chuckled because of the ridiculousness of your statement. Ordinary? Charlotte Duvall. The very last thing you could ever be is ordinary.” Marc’s voice sounded slightly raspy. His beautiful eyes were dark with emotion. Charlotte couldn’t have looked away from his soulful gaze if she tried. He reached out a finger and trailed it alongside her cheek. “Round, high cheekbones. A delicate smattering of freckles. Bright, inquisitive eyes the color of cornflowers. Full, ruby lips. And when you’re angry, your eyes flash like a bolt of lightning. It all combines to create a spectacular face. Believe it or not, Charlotte. You are a stunningly beautiful woman. And it’s a doggone shame no man has ever been able to convince you of that fact.”
Marc took a few steps away from her. His retreat caused her stomach to clench. It was the strangest feeling in the world. She didn’t know why, but she wanted Marc to stay. And it scared her right down to her very soul.
“Goodnight, Charlotte.” The rich timbre of Marc’s voice gave her goosebumps.
By the time she uttered a reply, Marc had disappeared into the velvety night. Charlotte watched as stars flickered in the sky above her. She folded her arms across her chest. She shivered, even though the night air felt balmy. Marc had called her beautiful. Beautiful! Spectacular!
Other than her mother and Case, she couldn’t remember a single soul ever describing her as beautiful. And she didn’t think she’d ever felt that way. Not until tonight. Not until a few minutes ago when Marc had touched her face and told her in painstaking detail about the quality of her features. Truth had flowed from his words. She had seen sincerity emanating from his eyes. Knowing he thought she was beautiful served as a healing balm for all the times she’d felt like a plain Jane. Marc, without even knowing it, had lifted her up—way higher than she’d ever imagined.
His comments weren’t a magical cure-all for her low self-esteem, but there was now a ray of light shining forth from the darkest regions inside her where self-doubt lived. He’d given her a precious gift. He’d made her believe that a man could find her beautiful. And although it shocked her to the core, she wondered what it might be like to be the woman Marc Cabron loved and adored. She didn’t even want to admit it to herself, but she also wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him. Courted by him. The thoughts racing through her mind gutted her. She felt incredibly disloyal to Case.
Charlotte made her way back to the ballroom, praying all the way for divine guidance. Having thoughts like this about Marc went way over a line in the sand she really didn’t want to cross. How could she be having these thoughts about the man who had almost ruined her brother’s life?
* * *
As Marc walked away from Charlotte he clenched his fists at his side. It bothered him deeply to see Charlotte’s low self-esteem. Although she hid i
t well with shows of bravado, it was right there lurking under the surface. How in the world didn’t she realize her appeal? Her staggering beauty? Maybe she didn’t own a mirror. Or maybe no one had ever given her a reason to believe in her beauty.
What do I care? It’s not my problem.
But he did care. A lot. And he didn’t know when exactly he had started caring about Charlotte Duvall. For the longest time he had viewed her as a spoiled brat who’d been raised with a silver spoon in her mouth. When she had confronted him at Savannah House about working for them, he had been riled up. By the time she had shown up at his office seeking redemption, she had begun to worm her way into his good graces. Now, confusion speared through him. He had been awestruck at the sight of her tonight in her rose colored gown. It set off her warm coloring and highlighted the graceful slope of her neck.
