his throat. “Charlie, do you want Jake to be safe?”
“Of course I do. What a ridiculous question.”
“Then you’re moving in with me, because this guy—” he stabbed one finger at the computer screen “—knows where you live. That means neither you nor Jake is safe.”
She didn’t want to be Vance Waverly’s good deed for the year. Didn’t want to be so pathetic that she needed a big, strong man to come riding to her rescue, for pity’s sake. Then she silently admitted that she also didn’t want to go home alone and worry about some nameless, faceless threat. She could stay with Katie, but her friend’s apartment was smaller than Charlie’s and she didn’t want to risk endangering Katie, either.
Should she do it? Should she risk moving in with her boss? Even to keep her son safe, was it the smart thing to do? She looked into Vance’s eyes and read the grim determination there. Mistake, she told herself. This was probably a huge mistake. But try as she might, she couldn’t think of a logical reason to say no.
Nine
Vance insisted that they take part of the afternoon off and move her and Jake into his condo. With the baby at Waverly’s day-care facility, Charlie got them both settled at Vance’s place.
Her first look at his home was enough to convince her that this was a bad idea. She could have plopped her entire apartment into just the living room of Vance’s penthouse and still have room left over. One entire length of the condo was a wall of tinted glass overlooking the Hudson River. Pleasure crafts and bright yellow kayaks, looking like fallen crayons, floated on the deep-blue water, and Charlie could only guess that the view of city lights at night would be stupendous.
The great room had been decorated by an expert so that it was starkly beautiful and about as kid-friendly as a set of steak knives. There were black leather chairs and couches gathered into a conversation area and another set of matching pieces in front of a now-empty hearth. Black lacquered tables stood on tile floors dotted with what looked like expensive rugs. Lamps that looked more like modern art than anything else were staggered around the room.
“See,” he said, spreading his arms wide, “plenty of room.”
“For me and an army,” she whispered as she followed Vance down a hallway that led to three bedrooms. She glanced in at the master suite as they passed, and her heart did a quick jolt when she saw his bed, huge and inviting, with a dark blue duvet and a mountain of pillows stacked against a black headboard.
“You really like black, don’t you?” she commented.
He looked down at her and shrugged. “It goes with everything. Or so the decorator told me.”
“Right,” she said, nodding. “Decorator.”
Just one more way that they were different. Even if she could have afforded a professional, Charlie never would have paid someone to furnish her home. The place that would be both haven and refuge. She would want to put her own stamp on this place. For example, she thought, in the great room, she would have had overstuffed furniture, less expensive but softer rugs and tables you could put your feet up on without having a bottle of Windex handy to wipe off the smudges. And she would have brought color into the place—blues, greens, even a sunshiny yellow. Anything to relieve the black and white and gray monochrome feel.
Oh, boy. Stop it, she told herself. This isn’t your home. You ‘re not staying. You ‘re a guest and probably a short-lived one, so just smile and be nice.
Vance opened the door to a guest room and Charlie was actually relieved to see pale blue walls, dark blue chairs drawn up in front of another fireplace and a bed done in pale blue and green. It was so different from the rest of the place, she could hardly believe it. “It’s lovely.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, it’s not what I was expecting.” She’d been thinking, of course, more black. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. The bathroom’s through here,” he said, showing her a palatial space with sky-blue tile, white sinks and tubs with what looked like teak wraparounds. The back half of the bathroom was a glassed-in shower space that looked big enough for—all kinds of things, she thought before she ruthlessly shut down that thought.
Like the rest of his home, the bathroom was stylish and elegant and intimidating.
“There’s a connecting room through the bathroom and it should work great for Jake. I can have a crib up here in an hour.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, glancing around the third bedroom, another study in blues and greens. Apparently, his decorator had run out of ideas when it came to the guest rooms. “In fact, Vance, you don’t have to do any of this. Jake and I will be fine.”
“Yeah, you will,” he agreed. “Here.”
He laid both hands on her shoulders and she felt the heat of his hands sliding through her system. Seductive. That’s what he was. God, how had she ever believed he was cold and closed-off? In the past two weeks, he’d shown her more care and more attention than she could ever remember receiving from anyone.
Now, he’d even opened his home to her. Why? She had told him the truth about who she was. He had to know that whatever it was that sizzled between them when they were close couldn’t last. Wasn’t real. Wasn’t anything that should even have gotten started. So why hadn’t he turned his back on her?
He said he believed that she wasn’t trying to undermine Waverly’s. So was it something a lot simpler? Was he simply planning on using her for sex and then firing her later? No. She refused to believe that. Vance Waverly wasn’t that kind of man. He was being kind, and she wasn’t going to second-guess that. But oh, it probably hadn’t been a good idea to move in here, however temporarily.
“This guy knows where you live, Charlie,” Vance said as if he were reading her mind and knew that she was regretting the decision to come here. “What if he gets tired of email and wants to make a personal visit. Then what?”
She actually shivered at the thought. “I know, but I feel guilty. You’ve already been so nice, Vance….”
“Dammit, Charlie, you don’t have to go this alone.” He pulled her in to him until she had to tip her head back to look into his eyes. “I’m not being nice. I want you here where I know you and your son are safe. You can see I’ve got the room. What’s the problem?”
She reached up and laid her hands on his. “Vance, I appreciate it, I do. But you’ve never lived with a baby and I just don’t think you know what you’re getting into.”
“Let me worry about that, okay? Let me help.”
His features were tight, his eyes blazing as he looked down at her, practically willing her to agree. And though she knew she might one day come to regret this decision, Charlie knew she would be staying.
“Okay,” she said softly, admitting at least to herself that there was nowhere else she wanted to be.
“Good. Now,” he said, taking her hand, “drop your stuff. I’ll show you around.”
The tour of the rest of the condo had Charlie
