Chasing Charlotte by Marissa T. Nolan (14)

Kyle was gone when I woke up.

I blinked in the brightness of the room. My head was throbbing, as though someone had inserted a ten-piece marching band behind my eyes, and they were all playing the drums. Everything was so blindingly white. Why had I expected that things would have changed?

Because I’d changed. I’d spent a night of ecstasy with the man I’d specifically told myself I wouldn’t get involved with, and I’d changed in a way I couldn’t even begin to explain.

I rolled over and buried my face in Kyle’s pillow, inhaling the spicy scent of his cologne, and my headache started to recede. I vaguely remembered telling him that I liked him. A lot.

Understatement of the century.

The whole time we’d been in bed together, I’d wanted to tell him how hard I’d fallen for him. I’d almost given in at the end, when I’d been unable to stop my tears. Tears of happiness. That wasn’t something I was overly familiar with, and I think I was as surprised as he was. I could have happily stayed in his arms forever.

But there was no way he’d feel the same, so I kept biting my tongue.

And speaking of tongues...

I shifted in his bed, feeling the cool cotton sheets on my bare skin. His tongue. Oh god, his tongue. The memory of the way he’d used his mouth on me was getting me wet again. I turned onto my back, my eyes closed, my hands sliding over my body. I shouldn’t have been doing this; lying in his bed, touching myself to the thought of his hands and his mouth and his voice. It was a waste of time.

I could understand the appeal, though.

I crawled out of his huge bed and padded to the en suite, the reality of the situation crashing down on me. The whole time I was in the shower, all I could think about was what a terrible, awful, horrible idea this had been. Even worse than having a one-night stand. I couldn’t have at least waited until I wasn’t working for him? Standing under the gentle beating of water on my shoulders, I buried my face in my hands. We were so screwed. If Walter found out, I’d lose my job. And if Natasha found out, well...

Kyle could lose everything.

There was a noise from the next room, and I quickly finished my shower and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around myself. I peeked out into the bedroom and saw Priscilla, picking up Kyle’s clothes from the night before and grumbling as she tossed them into a laundry basket on her hip. She glanced around the room, and I ducked back into the bathroom, holding my breath, trying to calm the frantic beating of my heart.

It felt like forever until I heard the door close again. I carefully stepped into the bedroom. Priscilla had made the bed, and there was a small stack of fresh towels at the foot. I blushed and held my own towel more tightly around my body. I cracked the door open and listened, but there was no one in the hall, so I dashed to the spare room where I’d left my clothes.

They weren’t there.

Panic flooded my brain. Priscilla couldn’t possibly have taken them, could she? I sat heavily on the bed, my cheeks burning with shame and embarrassment. So much for keeping this little dalliance a secret. Of course, the more pressing issue was:  how was I going to get out of here without any clothes?

“That’s a good look for you.”

My head shot up. Kyle was leaning in the doorway, a playful smile on his lips. “Don’t know if it’s proper business attire, but it definitely looks good on you.”

I blew out a breath, trying to shove my heart back into my chest. I wondered if I could pay off the marching band in my head and make them play their drums somewhere else.

“It’s not even business casual,” I said, and he laughed and crossed the room, kneeling on the floor in front of me. “I think Priscilla took my clothes to be washed.”

He grinned wolfishly. “Well, we both know what happens when you wash clothes, don’t we?”

I smacked him on the shoulder, and he laughed again. “That’s when I wash clothes, Kyle. I seriously doubt Priscilla is going to find all this quite so amusing.”

He lifted an eyebrow, that grin still plastered across his face. “Amusing? Is that how you’d describe last night?”

If I’d thought I was blushing before, it was nothing compared to how my cheeks felt now.

“Kyle, last night was...”

He tilted his head. “Incredible? Mind-blowing?” His voice dropped a whole octave, and I shivered. “Perfect?”

I shook my head. “A colossal mistake,” I said. His grin disappeared, and the flash of pain in his eyes made my heart nearly stop. “Kyle, you can’t possibly think this was a good idea.” I swallowed nervously. I was his assistant, for god’s sake. I had to work with him for another two weeks. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to keep my hands off him for that long.

He ran a hand through his hair, and that was when I noticed the bandage. My eyes widened.

“You’re hurt!” I grabbed for his wrist, but he pulled away and stood up abruptly. “Kyle, what happened?”

He looked down at his hand and shook his head. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Just a stupid mistake on my part.” There was a chill in his voice that I’d never heard before, and it frightened me a little. He held out his other hand. “Come on, we’ll find you something to wear.”

I didn’t trust myself to take his hand. Instead, I pushed myself off the bed and looked up at him. The pain in his eyes had been replaced by something I couldn’t quite explain. It might have been sadness, but there was a coldness there, too. I shivered again, and he dropped his hand.

“Come on,” he said. I followed him to his bedroom and perched on the end of the bed as he strode into his closet, then emerged a moment later with a white dress shirt. He tossed it at me, and I caught it with both hands. “Put that on for now.”

I slowly pulled on the shirt. It smelled like him, and once again I felt like my heart would burst out of my chest. When had I ever wanted anything as much as I wanted this man?

Never. Not in my whole life. And the impossibility of it was tearing me apart.

Fastening the last button, I stood up and wiggled the towel down over my body, stepping out of it and kicking it aside. Turning to the mirror in the corner of the room, I stared at myself. I’d somehow forgotten how much bigger he was; his shirt hung on me like a dress. I glanced up at him. Now his eyes showed something I recognised immediately.

Hunger. Desire. Lust.

I tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “It’s perfect,” I said, a hint of sarcasm behind the words. He just stared at me, looking as though he wanted to lunge across the room and tear the shirt off me. “Kyle?”

His voice was rough, and a little hoarse.

“You can’t wear that.”

“You think?” I shot back. I looked in the mirror again and frowned, then reached behind me and pulled some of the extra fabric back. The shirt moulded itself to my breasts, and I studied my reflection critically. I might be able to pin it like this and get away with saying it was a new, oversize style.

I heard Kyle growl softly – or maybe it was a groan – but I ignored it. This took care of my top, although I didn’t really feel comfortable without a bra, not at my size. Still, it would have to do. I wasn’t quite sure what to do about my bottom half, though. Maybe Priscilla had a skirt I could borrow. We had almost the same body type, and if I hiked it up enough...

“Charlotte.” Kyle hadn’t moved since he’d tossed me the shirt. “You can’t fucking wear that.” I looked over at him. His hands were clenched, and his jaw was working. He spoke through gritted teeth. “Where are your keys? I’ll have Arthur pick something up from your place.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked down at myself. I thought the shirt looked okay. Not perfect, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?

“It’s fine, really,” I said.

He’d crossed the room before I could even blink, standing in front of me, a towering wall of strength. He lifted a hand as though he wanted to touch me, then clenched it into a fist again and dropped it.

“I said you can’t. Fucking. Wear. That.” He growled again – this time it was definitely a growl – and I stared up at him and bit my lip. “Where are your fucking keys?” he asked. “The office?” I nodded, and he stalked out of the room.

I carefully sat down on the edge of the bed again. Was he angry with me? I waited for what seemed like an eternity before he came back. He seemed calmer now, but he wasn’t smiling. He leaned heavily against the doorway and studied me, his arms folded across his chest. It was the most uncomfortable silence I’d ever felt.

“Kyle, please say something.”

He didn’t. He just watched me as I fiddled with the hem of his shirt where it kissed my thighs. Where he’d kissed my thighs. I felt like bursting into tears, but I bit the inside of my cheek and forced myself to keep a neutral expression.

“Are...” My voice sounded very small in the enormous bedroom. “Are you angry with me?”

He took a slow breath, then sighed deeply and shook his head. “No, Charlotte,” he said. I could actually see the resignation in his stance. “No, doll, I’m not angry with you.” He lifted himself from the doorway and dropped his muscular frame into the armchair in the corner of the room. “I’m just...” He shook his head again and idly scratched the bandage on his left hand. “Oh.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out my phone. “Here.”

I caught it in both hands and looked down at the screen. Another two calls from Adam. I frowned, then growled, angrily swiping at the screen. I navigated to the phone app and blocked his number, then slapped the phone down on the bed. When I looked up again, Kyle was blinking at me.

“I’m so sick of hearing from that son of a bitch,” I said, by way of explanation, and Kyle actually grinned. “You’re right. He is a hack.” I smirked.

Kyle threw back his head and laughed, and for a few moments, things were exactly the way they should have been.

I didn’t even know I owned a silk scarf.

I turned in front of the mirror in the spare room and studied my dark skirt and blazer. Arthur couldn’t have chosen a more ideal outfit for me if he’d been a fashion consultant. And maybe he was; I mean, what did I really know about Kyle’s butler, apart from the fact that he was probably in his sixties, and he seemed to appear and disappear at exactly the right times?

Sliding the pretty floral scarf through my fingers, I placed it around my neck and tied a simple knot on one side. It hid Kyle’s bite mark perfectly, and I felt a pang of regret that I had to hide it in the first place. If not for my position, I’d have proudly shown the world that he’d left his mark on me. But for now, knowing it was there would have to be enough.

We’d talked of pleasantries while we’d waited for Arthur to return from my apartment:  the upcoming concert, Kyle’s schedule for the next few days, and – I swear to god – the weather. The weather? I was talking about the weather with a man who’d stolen my heart and rocked my world – no pun intended. I couldn’t regret what we’d done, but the discomfort I felt around him now was going to make the next twelve days more awkward than putting an octopus in a onesie.

I took off my glasses and rubbed my forehead. Why hadn’t I told him last night how much I needed him? How deeply I felt about him? Because, the sensible part of me said, you know it’s hopeless. It certainly felt that way, at least. There were just too many obstacles to overcome. Maybe in a couple of weeks, that would change, but until then, I’d have to keep my mind on my work.

Downstairs, I checked the music room for Kyle, but he wasn’t there. I frowned and looked at my watch. He was due to be working on the new songs for the concert. I wandered into the dining room and found Arthur polishing a row of silver knives, all neatly laid out on the heavy oak table.

“Excuse me, Arthur?” I bit my lip. Talking to Arthur always made me feel a little nervous. “Have you seen Kyle?”

He looked up from his work and eyed me balefully. “Yes, Miss Reid,” he said drily, and continued polishing the knife he was holding. He set it down and picked up the next one in the row. I waited, but he didn’t say anything more.

“Where is he?” I said at last.

Arthur shook his head and swapped knives again. The silver gleamed in the afternoon sunlight that poured through the dining room windows.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, Miss Reid,” he said calmly, watching me. He wasn’t even looking at what he was doing, but his hands still moved confidently.

That was it? He couldn’t tell me?

I tried a different line of questioning.

“Well, do you know when he’ll be back?” I asked.

“No, Miss Reid.” Arthur shook his head again and set the knife down. It was perfectly polished. Really, how did he do that?

I took a deep, frustrated breath. “Well, can you tell me how to reach him, at least?”

Arthur folded the polishing cloth and set it on the table. “I’m afraid he’s unreachable at the moment, Miss Reid,” he said, collecting the knives and placing them carefully in the velvet-lined chest that sat on the sideboard. “But I’m sure he’ll be back when he’s able.”

I sighed. The man played his cards infuriatingly close to his vest.

“Fine,” I said shortly. It wasn’t fine at all, of course. Kyle had rehearsal at three, and if he wasn’t there for it, Walter would probably fire me. “Please tell him to call me as soon as he gets in.”

Arthur plucked the forks from the chest and inclined his head. “As you wish, Miss Reid,” he said blandly, setting the silverware in a neat row and picking up the cloth again.

I turned on my heel and stormed out of the room. If Kyle was late to rehearsal...

Kyle was late to rehearsal.

Well, maybe not late, but cutting it awfully close. I still had no idea where he was. I only knew that it was ten to three, and we were all at the rehearsal space waiting for him.

Walter paced back and forth, his heavy feet slamming into the ground. Tyler and Joey were tuning their guitars, Dan was twirling his drumsticks, and Natasha was leaning against a wall, a faint smirk on her fire-engine red lips.

“Where the fuck is he?” Walter turned on me. “I hired you to keep him on schedule, Miss Reid. Is this job too bloody difficult for you?”

I shook my head and tried to project an air of confidence. “It’s not quite three,” I said smoothly. “He’ll be here.” I hoped.

“He bloody well better be,” Walter snapped.

Joey lifted his head and grinned. “Oh, come on, Walt,” he said, playing a few notes on his bass. “She’s not his mother.”

“No, she’s his bloody assistant, and if she can’t keep track of him –”

My phone rang, and I slid it open.

“I’m ten minutes out.” Kyle sounded like he was out of breath. “I’ll be right there.”

I held up my hand to Walter and flashed my fingers twice. Ten minutes. He nodded shortly.

“All right,” I said. “Ten minutes. We’ll see you soon.” I hung up and wished I’d been alone so I could have asked him where on Earth he’d been.

“Rockin’,” Tyler said, and played a riff on his Stratocaster. Dan’s drumsticks crashed against his hi-hat, and he laughed.

“Fuckin’ flake.” He grinned at me. “Not your fault, spider,” he said, as Walter glowered at us both. “We all know Kyle’s got a lot on his mind.”

I shook my head. “That’s still no excuse,” I said, taking off my glasses and rubbing my forehead.

“It’s pathetic,” Natasha sneered. “You can’t even do your job. What good are you?”

Tyler snapped his fingers at her, and it sounded like a gunshot. “Hey. Shut up and make yourself useful, will you, Tasha?” She glared at him and stalked to the high metal table, slamming open the binder that sat there. She slapped a few pages of sheet of music on each band member’s stand, shooting Tyler dirty looks with every move she made.

I turned away and swallowed my smile. I couldn’t have asked for nicer guys to work with. We’d only been at this a week, and they were already treating me like a member of the band. Like family.

Kyle strolled into the rehearsal room on the dot of three. A lot on his mind? He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Sorry I’m right on time,” he said, grinning at Walter. “Hope you weren’t expecting me to bail on you again.”

Walter pointed a thick finger at him and sputtered. But there wasn’t really time for recriminations. The space was only booked for three hours. Kyle sauntered up to his music stand and smiled winningly at Natasha, who glared at him.

“Hey, Tasha. You set?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Specifically, at his hands. “What happened?” She pointed at the bandage.

He shrugged. “Nothing.” Natasha frowned. “Just a little burn,” Kyle said, dismissing it with a wave. “You ready, or what?”

Natasha tossed her hair. “Let’s just get this over with,” she said darkly. “I have a lot to do tonight.”

The session went about as well as could be expected, given that the guys were trying to work under the cloud of Natasha’s fury and Walter’s irritation. About the only thing that wasn’t going so well was my ability to keep my eyes off Kyle as he sang. After the previous night, I started hearing his lyrics with new ears.

Every time he opened his mouth, there was something else behind his words. And his eyes. Because as often as I found myself watching him, he was watching me, too. Every time I caught him looking at me, my cheeks got a little warmer, and the mark on my neck seemed to throb under my scarf.

I left as the guys were packing up their instruments. Close behind me, I heard Natasha’s heels on the floor.

“You.”

I stopped in the hall, my back to her. “I have a name, Natasha,” I said. I didn’t turn around.

She stormed past me and whirled, her face inches from mine.

“Stop looking at my man, bitch,” she snarled. Her brown eyes flashed dangerously.

I held my ground. “You don’t own him, Natasha.” I raised one eyebrow. “He’s not an object, and he’s not a child. He can make his own decisions.”

She growled at me. “How dare you talk to me like that?” Her dark hand shot out and caught me across the cheek. “Kyle is mine. You’re just a fat little nobody in an ugly scarf.”

I smiled quietly and slowly pulled the scarf from my neck, exposing my throat. Exposing the mark Kyle had left on me. Natasha’s eyes widened in shock.

“Maybe you should be having this conversation with Kyle,” I said calmly.

Natasha stepped back, glaring at the bite mark. “Maybe I’ll have this conversation with Walt first,” she said, and turned on her heel, storming out of the building.

I blew out a breath. Kyle’s rich, dark voice came from the hall behind me.

“Charlotte?”

I slowly turned around, studying him over my glasses. “How much of that did you hear?”

His expression was dark. “Enough.” He stepped towards me and brushed his fingers against my cheek, where Natasha had slapped me. “I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “I should have expected it.”

He dropped his hand to my throat, tracing his mark. An electric heat raced through me at his touch, and my heart started aching. His mark. The reality of it hit me with the force of a thunderbolt.

“Was this really such a mistake?” he whispered, his eyes finding mine.

There was raucous laughter from the door to the rehearsal room, and I quickly put my scarf back on and adjusted it. Tyler and Dan came up behind Kyle, and Tyler clapped him on the back.

“Hey, man. We’re going back to the Madhouse.” The Madhouse. That was what Joey had named the bungalow where the three of them spent most of their downtime. “You wanna come?”

Kyle studied me for a beat, then looked at Tyler. “Yeah, sure,” he said, and nodded.

Tyler punched him in the shoulder. “See you there. We’re gonna pick up some beers first.” He grinned down at me. “Sorry, spider; no girls allowed tonight.”

I smiled mischievously. “That’s okay, Tyler,” I said, sweeping my hair back. “I’m sure I can find a way to entertain myself while you four are drowning in expensive beer and cheap women.”

Tyler blushed slightly. Joey pushed past him, laughing hysterically. Dan was close behind, twirling a drumstick and snickering. Tyler mumbled something about it being the other way around before following his twin out the door.

Walter rolled his eyes. “It’s like a fucking kindergarten class,” he muttered. He pointed at Kyle. “I don’t want a repeat of this, Kyle. A week is not bloody long enough to get you into my good books.” To me, he said, “If you can’t keep him in line, I’ll sack you and find someone who will.” He strode past us, and if the door hadn’t been the soft-closing kind, he probably would have slammed it.

I bit my lip and turned to watch him leave. I felt Kyle pull the scarf off my neck; he leaned over me and touched the bite mark with his fingertips again.

“That’s a good look for you,” he whispered in my ear, before draping the scarf over my shoulder and sauntering out the door.

I collapsed against the wall, feeling like I’d been hit by a truck. The pounding in my chest wasn’t just from Walter’s threat. Kyle’s words had thrown me off balance.

Again.

A good look for me? Was he serious?