One year later

Charlotte Devon, who’d always gone by the nickname Charlie, lay on her bed and stared at her phone, waiting for it to ring.

Simon still called her every Sunday night at eight o’clock in the evening, just as he had for the past seven years. In the first year after her parents had died, she’d never wanted to talk to him. But she’d learned early on that if she ignored his calls, he’d keep calling back until she answered, so she’d gotten into the habit of answering the phone whether she wanted to talk to him or not.

She liked to talk to him now. She actively looked forward to his Sunday night calls.

This evening, however, she was nervous. Her breathing was fast and uneven as she watched the time on the screen of her phone flip over to eight o’clock exactly.

It rang right on cue, making her jump even though she’d been expecting it.

“Hello? Hi, hey.” She sounded silly and breathless, and she cursed herself silently for it.

“Hi, Charlie. It’s Simon Shae.” He said that every time he called her—announcing his whole name with his greeting—even though he must know that his name appeared on her screen and that she wouldn’t be confused by which Simon he was. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the call. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Why wouldn’t I be sure?” She sounded a little sharp, but he’d always had a way of not making things easy for her. She was trying to act normal, and he was rattling her.

“I don’t know. You sound... flustered.”

Flustered.

She didn’t want to be flustered. She wanted to be charming and confident, and she’d gotten off on completely the wrong foot. “I’m not flustered.”

“You sound like you are.”

“Well, I don’t care what I sound like. I’m not.”

Another long pause. Simon was the kind of man who thought before he spoke, thought before he acted, thought before he did anything at all. “Okay,” he said at last. “How’s everything?”

“Fine,” she said, making herself smile so her voice would sound more natural and he’d stop wondering what was the matter with her. “Everything is fine.”

“How’s work?”

“Good. It’s good.”

She didn’t have a real job. She’d graduated from college with a degree in sociology, but she’d never had any real idea about what she wanted to do with it. For a couple of years, she’d played around since she didn’t need to work for a living, but after a while she’d gotten bored with nothing but shopping, working out, and spa appointments. Simon had suggested she do some volunteer work, and now much of her time was spent working on the boards of a natural history museum and two different charitable foundations. She was much happier now that she had something worthwhile to spend her days working on.

“And Lady Jane?” Simon asked.

Lady Jane was presently sound asleep, sprawled out near Charlie’s feet at the bottom of the bed. “She’s good.”

“And your friends are doing well?”

Their conversations always started like this—Simon going through a series of questions about her life until she was able to coax him into a real conversation.

She chatted for a few minutes about her friends, her trip to Paris in a couple of months, and some housekeeping items related to her parents’ estate, which she kept because they’d loved it but visited only occasionally.

Then there was a pause in conversation and she asked, “What about you? How have you been doing?”

“I’m fine. Of course.”

She rolled her eyes. She’d never met a more reserved, unforthcoming man. In the past year, she’d thought they’d been getting closer, but lately it had been like pulling teeth to get him to talk to her like a real person.

He was obstinate that way—closing down just when she’d wanted to connect with him the most.

“You got the report I emailed you yesterday?” he asked, in a businesslike tone she was very familiar with.

“Yeah. I did. I replied to it, didn’t I?”

“Yes. I suppose you did.”

“I did have some questions about the investments. When you have some time, maybe we could go over them.”

Another pause. “Sure. Of course we can.”

“Why do you sound surprised?”

“I didn’t think you actually read the financial stuff I send you.”

He’d stopped being her trustee a year ago, after she’d turned twenty-four and come into her inheritance. But he still handled all her money and property. Somebody had to, and he was really good at it. Plus she trusted him completely. “I didn’t used to be. But I’m not as silly and frivolous as you think. I’ve been trying to pay more attention recently. It’s pretty confusing though.”

“I can walk you through it anytime you want.” He sounded almost pleased, as if her interest was a personal compliment. “And I don’t think you’re silly and frivolous.”

She hoped that was true.

Changing the subject, she asked, “You’re going to the wedding in two weeks, aren’t you? Jim and Polly’s? You’re friends with Polly’s father, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am.”

“Why do you sound annoyed? Do you not like Polly’s dad anymore?”

“I like him fine.”

She shook her head, wondering why his tone had changed. “So you’ll be at the wedding?”

“I don’t know. I’d accepted the invitation, but I may decide not to go.”

She groaned. “Now come on. It will be a weekend at a great hotel in the mountains. Why wouldn’t you go?”

“It’s not my thing.”

“What isn’t your thing? Socializing? Having fun? Being around people? Doing something other than working and going home to hibernate? I know you’re getting up there in years, but you’re not a grandpa yet.”

Her tone had been light and amused—since she knew he tended to be antisocial but would respond to her teasing—so she was surprised by his gruff response.

“Despite your unflattering assessment of my personality, I’m not quite a grandpa yet.”

“I know you’re not a grandpa. I mean, you can’t be more than fifty.”

“Fifty? I just turned forty, and you should know it since you bought me that ridiculous present last month.”

Her present had been a year’s worth of relaxation treatments at an upscale day spa, an effort to get him to relax and loosen his collar a bit. She had no idea whether he’d actually started to use them or not.

“I know you’re just forty,” she said softly. “I was teasing. You knew that, right?”

Another pause. A long one this time. “Yes, I knew that.”

“You’re in the prime of life. You’re smart and sexy and successful. Any girl would be lucky if you looked her way.” She said the words thoughtlessly, wanting to answer the edge she’d heard in his voice, but she suddenly wondered if she’d said too much, revealed too much of what she’d been feeling lately.

The pause this time was the longest of the whole conversation. Simon must really be thinking something through, and she prayed he hadn’t suspected her feelings and was searching for a way to let her down easy. He finally said in a gentler voice, “Let’s not overdo the flattery. I might not be a grandpa yet, but I’m also not much of a prince.”

She smiled, relaxing at a return to their normal interaction. “Well, hey, sometimes the princess falls for the stubborn, grouchy, antisocial beast rather than the prince.”

“Sometimes?” he asked with a huff of dry amusement. “There’s only one story where that happens, right?”

“I guess. There might be more, but I don’t know about them.”

“And doesn’t the beast turn into a regular, young, handsome prince at the end?”

“Y-yeah.”

“And you’re claiming this is my one faint hope? That I’ll be miraculously transformed and then someone will want me?”

“No, that’s not what I meant!” She was half laughing in response to the clever lilt to his voice and half-worried that she’d hurt his feelings. “You don’t need to be transformed. I’m sure girls would be crazy about you if you gave them the slightest encouragement. You’re so stoic and buttoned-up that they assume you’re not interested.”

Simon had had a couple of girlfriends over the years that she could remember, but nothing that had lasted more than six months and nothing in the past couple of years. At least as far as she knew.

She was glad about that fact. She would have been very upset if he’d suddenly turned up with a girlfriend.

“That’s a nice story,” he said.

“It’s true. Are you going to the wedding with anyone?”

“I told you I might not even go.”

“Well, I’m not going to accept that. You are going, and you’re going with me.” She was relieved that she’d managed to get exactly where she’d wanted to get without weird contortions in conversation. And she thought she’d sounded light and casual and not like she was taking the invitation seriously.

She was taking it seriously, but she didn’t want him to know it.

He made a choking sound that wasn’t quite a cough. “What? Why would I go with you?”

“Because I don’t have a date either, and this way you won’t be able to weasel your way out of going.”

“I’m not going to go as your date.”

“Why not?”

“Because... because... it would be completely inappropriate.” He sounded stuffier than usual, if that were possible.

“It’s not inappropriate. We’re both adults, and you were never the slightest bit paternal with me. You were only my trustee. Not my guardian or something weird.”

“But still...”

“But still nothing. I want someone to go with, so you’re going with me.”

“Why don’t you find a young guy you’re actually interested in?”

She had to swallow since his question bothered her a lot. But she kept her light tone as she replied, “There aren’t any young guys I’m interested in right now. They’re all just after my money anyway.”

“They are not,” he growled. “You’re lovely in every way.”

She thought she was pretty enough—with big brown eyes, reddish glints in her dark hair, and a curvy figure. She wasn’t any sort of beauty queen, but she usually liked how she looked. “Thanks for that, but I’m also really rich, and you’re never going to convince me that guys aren’t going for the package deal.”

Another long pause as he thought that through. “Maybe some of them. But you’re amazing, Charlie. Someone is going to love you for real one day.”

She gulped over a lump in her throat. “Thanks. I hope so. But in the meantime, I’m going to take you to the wedding. You might as well just relent since I’m not going to give up on it.”

He gave a soft groan. “All right. Fine. I’ll go with you to the wedding. But I’m not going to pretend to be your boyfriend, if you have some sort of silly plan in mind.”

“I don’t have a silly plan in mind. I know I used to be kind of... immature, but I’m a grown-up now, you know.”

“I know you are,” he admitted in a different tone. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t hurt my feelings.” He had—a little—but not for the reasons he thought.

And she hadn’t been entirely truthful with him just now.

She did have a plan, and she’d had it from the moment she answered his call. She’d wanted him to be her date to the wedding, so she’d made sure it happened.

But she wasn’t just playing around in the way he thought.

She was serious about this.

She was serious about him.

And she’d set her mind to accomplishing what she desperately wanted. At the wedding in two weeks, she was going to make it happen.

***

THE NEXT EVENING, CHARLIE popped the cork on a bottle of her favorite champagne. She poured the bubbly liquid into three champagne flutes and handed two of them to her best friends, Madison and Hannah.

They smiled at each other as they clinked their glasses in a toast.

“I can’t believe we all did it,” Hannah said. She was a slim, quiet brunette who had a tendency to fade into the background because she didn’t like to call attention to herself. But Charlie had never known anyone who was as funny and clever when she let herself loose. “We all got dates to the wedding. And, Charlie, you got one you’re crazy about.”

“I think you’re kind of crazy about your guy too.”

Hannah shook her head. “Bruce and I are just friends. And it’s not like he’ll never stop screwing every female in sight for long enough to fall in love with anyone. But he can still help me stop being a virgin, if I’m brave enough to ask him. All I’m looking for is his body. Not his heart. But you have a chance of actually winning your guy’s heart, Charlie. And maybe Madison too, if he’s still who she remembers him to be.”

“I’m not hoping for his heart,” Madison said, blond and pretty and no-nonsense about everything. “I just want a good time. I liked him in school, but I haven’t seen him since we graduated, and you can’t always tell what a guy is like online. We’ll see if we still hit it off, and then maybe...”

“And if you don’t, you always have Timothy,” Charlie put in, laughing when Madison just rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. You’re going to the wedding with him, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but just to ride together. You know perfectly well that he’s not a possibility for me. He’s still in love with his wife. It doesn’t matter if she’s dead. He still loves her. I’m not holding out any hopes in that direction anymore. I’m not looking for the love of my life. I just want a hot fling to remind myself I’m still alive. And none of that has anything to do with Timothy.”

“Uh-huh.” When it looked like Madison would argue again, Charlie went on, “All right, all right. I’m just teasing. Mostly. We have our plan. We’re all going to be brave at the wedding. We made a pact, and there’s no going back now.” She raised her glass. “Here’s to finally getting what we want.”

The three women clinked their glasses again and finished their champagne.

Last month, they’d been at her town house drinking champagne just like this, talking about the upcoming wedding. They’d ended up making a pact for what they wanted to accomplish at the wedding.

Charlie was going to claim the heart of the man she loved.

Hannah was going to ask her good friend to help her take care of her virginity.

And Madison was going to have a hot fling.

They were all committed, and they were going to hold each other accountable.

Charlie was excited and nervous at the same time.

The night of her twenty-fourth birthday had changed everything for her. She’d suddenly become aware of Simon as a man—a very attractive man, one she knew deeply, cared about deeply.

She’d wanted him that night.

And she hadn’t stopped wanting him since.

She couldn’t go on like this indefinitely, so she’d vowed to herself that this weekend at the wedding was going to be her deadline. If she couldn’t get him to look at her as a mature woman this weekend and not the kid she used to be, then she was never going to be able to do it and she’d have to give up.

It was a long shot. Simon wasn’t easily swayed—in anything.

But she thought they had potential, and she’d never wanted a man the way she wanted him.

He might be more a beast than a prince, but she was going to win him anyway.