“Should somebody clue him in? Maybe Jack?”
Cece raised her brow. “If you were her, would you want somebody to clue the guy in?”
Charlotte couldn’t help thinking about her growing feelings for Alec. Alec was a playboy, a womanizer; he didn’t have the slightest interest in a serious relationship. Would she want some helpful soul telling him that she was falling for him?
Not on your life. As long as she kept her secret, she could have a few more weeks of paradise. The second it was out, he would run for the hills.
“No,” she admitted. “I suppose Dana’s best chance is if Max notices himself. You suppose there’s anything we can do to help that happen?”
Cece gave a sly grin, and Charlotte felt her first true connection with a member of the Hudson family.
“Morning, all,” came Raine’s sleepy voice.
“Hi, Raine,” Charlotte answered. “Have you met Cece? She’s the screenwriter and my new sister-in-law.” The title felt odd on Charlotte’s tongue, but she forced herself to use it anyway.
“We haven’t met,” said Raine, holding out a hand to shake.
“You have a lovely home,” said Cece. “It’s going to give the picture such authenticity.”
“I only hope it’s standing when you’re done,” said Raine, pouring herself some coffee and selecting a pastry, before hopping up on one of the bar stools at the island counter.
“I heard about the explosion,” said Cece. “And I saw the aftermath. You do know they’ll pay for it.”
“As long as no one was hurt,” said Raine, taking a big bite of the beignet.
Cece glanced down at the script pages. “I’m trying to keep the rest of the battle scenes to a minimum.”
“We appreciate that,” said Charlotte.
“But you have to admit,” Raine put in, “it was exciting.”
“It was definitely exciting,” Charlotte agreed. As had been the preceding hours in Alec’s bed. That was the first time they’d made love. It was fantastic, and it had actually improved with time.
Not that his technique had needed one iota of improvement. But she knew him better now, knew him and liked him. Liked him a lot.
Oh, no.
This was bad.
“I think I’ll go change,” she told the other two women, coming to her feet.
A sudden wave of dizziness flashed through her brain, and she grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself.
“Too many sleepless nights?” Raine teased.
And Cece’s interest perked.
“Parties in London and Paris,” Charlotte quickly explained, resisting the urge to glare at Raine. “I slept great last night.”
“We’re not as young as we used to be,” Cece chimed in.
“Speak for yourself,” said Raine. “I can still party like a nineteen-year-old.”
“Not if you want your circulation numbers back up,” came Kiefer’s voice. He gave Raine a mock stern look as he entered the room.
Then something passed between them, something strong and intimate that made Charlotte jealous. Which was silly. If Raine and Kiefer were happy together, it was nothing but good news. And if Jack and Cece had found joy together, Charlotte was thrilled for them.
Still, an indefinable emotion clogged her throat, and she mumbled something more about getting dressed, then she quickly left the kitchen. Alec had been too nice to her the past few days. She was beginning to read things into it that simply weren’t there. He was a decent guy who had a lot of experience in dating. He also had an unlimited credit card, which helped him entertain in style.
She had to stop confusing his innate class and hospitality for deeper feelings.
Nine
Two days later, Lillian, Markus and Dev, along with Dev’s fiancee, Valerie Shelton, left Provence. Alec finally felt as if he had a little privacy. He waited until after midnight, until the set was quiet and the staff had retired for the night. Dressed in a pair of jogging shorts and a simple T-shirt, he padded down the hallway to Charlotte’s room.
He silently cracked open her door. Moonlight shone through the billowing sheer curtains, reflecting off her soft skin and blond hair. Her covers were half off in the warm evening, revealing the lace-inset, purple silk nightgown she’d bought in Rome.
He’d wanted to buy it for her. He still wished he’d bought it for her. He wanted to feel some ownership of the garment. And, he admitted to himself, he wanted to feel some ownership of the woman wearing it.
It was a ridiculous and inappropriate emotion. Charlotte didn’t need him in her life. Everything she’d said and done for the past three weeks told him she wanted stability. She wanted family. She wanted a man she could count on.
Nobody could count on Alec.
Still, it didn’t stop him from wanting her.
He crossed the room, crouching down beside the big bed.
“Charlotte?” he whispered.
She stirred in her sleep.
He brushed a hand gently over her hair. “Charlotte?”
She groaned. “Did they catch the chateau on fire?”
He smiled. “No. Everything’s still standing. You asleep?”
“I was.” She blinked her eyes open in the dappled light.
“I was lonely,” he confessed.
After a silent moment, she smiled sweetly up at him. “Me, too.”
“Thank goodness.”
She slid over, and he slipped into the bed beside her.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her backward against his body. “I like you in silk.” He nuzzled against her neck, kissing her hairline, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her skin. “I like you out of silk, too.” He slipped his hand below the hem of the short nightgown, sliding it up to her flat belly, letting it rest against the softness.
Then he kissed the side of her neck, drawing her earlobe into his mouth.
“Are we sleeping or making love?” she asked.
“Do you have a preference?” He did. But he was willing to compromise anything if it meant he could hold her in his arms tonight.
“Just getting clarification.”
“Any reason we can’t do both?”
“I’ve been having a little trouble getting up in the mornings.”
“I can be quick,” he offered. “And then you can get right to sleep.”
He felt her body quiver with laughter. “Such a gentleman.”
He moved his hand to the curve of her breast. “Does fast work for you?”
She turned onto her back, and he could just make out her expression in the moonlight. She was such an incredibly beautiful woman, and his heart did a funny flip-flop as he gazed into her eyes.
“Slow works for me,” she told him, slipping her small, soft fingertips under the hem of his T-shirt and stretching it off over his head.
“Slow it is.” He leaned in for a full-on kiss.
Her warm lips softened and parted. He was instantly lost in their magic. A cool breeze danced over his bare back, while his blood heated to a boil. But still he kissed her, holding her close, worshipping her body, moving ever so slowly, ever so patiently into more intimate kisses, more intimate caresses, making love to her until they both
