The woman was Charlie. Right here in living color.

She’d changed. And how. Still curvy as could be, but now Charlie was the kind of curvy that wasn’t due to inattention, but glowing health. Any man here would take one look and think about putting his hands in places where Jake’s had been, however inadvertently.

He frowned, lifted his eyes to her face and sucked in a breath.

The pale, mouse-colored hair that couldn’t decide between blah brown and blah blond had become a rich crimson that fell in gleaming waves to skim her shoulders. Holy shit.

Red. God, but he was a sucker for redheads.

Holy shit.

Blue eyes narrowed as they met his. Then she smiled, put her glass down and walked toward him. He couldn’t peel his eyes off of her. She stopped right in front of him and raised an eyebrow.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer.”

He blinked, then let his eyes trail back down her body and up again. Slowly. A grin building with every inch his eyes traversed. “I can take pictures?”

“Still incorrigible, I see.” She flushed, ever so slightly. He was glad to see she’d kept the glasses. Though these were a new, more stylish shape, they helped keep her Charlie.

“You expected me to change that much in a few months?” He winked at her. “Come on, you know better.”

She shrugged, surprising him by giving him a brief and slightly awkward hug. “It’s good to see you looking so healthy, Jake,” she whispered in his ear before pulling away.

Back at you, he wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut and concentrated on letting his hands fall away from her body naturally, though his fingers tingled where they brushed bare skin. Behave, he told himself.

Fuck that, his cock sassed right back. Goddamn it, he was in trouble. He’d been drawn to Charlie since day one but had held himself back—except for that one night. That one almost-kiss.

Because it had been the right thing to do. He remembered that, vaguely. But he couldn’t stop staring. He should make his excuses and leave. Immediately. His jaw tightened, and Jake knew he was scowling. He didn’t want to fucking leave.

“You okay?” For the first time he realized she was nervous. “Stacia mentioned you’d been traveling a lot. Maybe this was too much. You didn’t have to come.” The color deepened in her cheeks.

Jake looked down at those lush, trembling lips, a sharp stab of protectiveness snuck in under his ribs, taking his breath away. She’d missed him. In that second, all thought of leaving vanished.

“But I did.” He put a hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his. “I had to see the star I discovered shine, didn’t I?”

She blushed harder, pushing his hand away. “Quit it. I don’t shine.”

“Ahh, but you do.” He jerked his head at the gallery. “And you make the ordinary shine. It’s your gift. I mean, goddamn, Charlie. They were impressive enough in your spare bedroom; here, they . . .” He looked down at her, lowering his voice. “Take my breath away.”

She blinked, and he smiled. Back in the apartment, she’d never let him get to her. Only a few brief times had his teasing truly gotten under her skin. It was clear things had changed, she was feeling a bit uncertain with either herself or him. Jake knew he shouldn’t want to make that worse.

Yet he did. He wanted to fluster her, craved seeing that color hit her cheeks and her eyes fire up at him like they used to.

“How’s it going with Stace?” Jake used her momentary distraction to wrap an arm casually around her waist. Charlie started, her lips parting, before she slammed them back together again. His smile widened. “I know she can be quite the taskmaster when she has a goal in mind. And she is determined you’re going to be a star. She gotten out the whip yet?”

She relaxed ever so slightly at the change of topic. “She certainly has a lot of energy.”

“If that means she turns into a raging bitch when she has a goal in mind, then yes, she’s the most energetic person I know.”

She frowned up at him even as her eyes twinkled. “Be nice.”

“Can’t do it. She’s my sister. It’s psychologically impossible for me to be nice.”

A flash of a smile that faded quickly. Charlie’s gaze found Stacia across the room. “She wants me to quit my job.”

He hesitated, then squeezed her gently. “It’s a big step, but this is big, too, right?” He waved a hand at the paintings around them. Her paintings, looking right at home in the limelight. “Maybe you could take a sabbatical.”

She shrugged but bit her lip in that way that made him miss being shot, just a little. Because then he’d been able to lie back and drink her in for hours on end. “Maybe. But I haven’t decided yet.” It was clear enough to him that Charlie didn’t exactly love her job, but her work ethic was unmistakable. Having never held a nine-to-five gig in his life, he didn’t really see the appeal.

“You never seemed too attached to accounting,” he prompted.

“Yeah, but it pays the bills.”

He nudged her hip with his, having checked out the discreet pricing on a couple of her pieces. “This can pay the bills, too.”

She smiled, a touch of wonder in her eyes that made him grin. “Apparently, yes.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “I’ve sold three pieces tonight already. It’s crazy.”

Charlie’s phone beeped. She looked down and cursed. “Oh shit, I need to move into the ballroom now. We’re having a private party and they’re starting the appetizers.” She looked up at him, her jaw suddenly tight. “I have to go make my entrance.”

It was impossible to miss her tension. His poor little introvert, thrust headlong into the spotlight. “Not used to all this yet?”

“I’ll never be used to all this.” She gestured at the gallery and the people regarding them, some curiously, but no one approached. “But this part, the gallery part, isn’t so bad. It’s more about the art. Most of these people know so much more about it than I do. I’m learning a lot and it’s interesting, but the private parties . . . Yeah, I don’t like.” She gave a laugh, but it sounded strained.

He did get it. It was more intimate, more personal. Something that was very hard for Charlie, for reasons he still hadn’t figured out. But she was doing it anyway. He was so proud of her, his throat tightened up. He swallowed hard, then grinned at her.

“Well, it turns out I’m invited to this little shindig, too. Let me escort you.” He removed his arm from her waist and offered his elbow with a bow. She rolled her eyes but took it, her fingers resting on his wrist. He couldn’t miss the way they trembled, so just before they reached the carved wooden doors, he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “And if you need a way to relieve stress after the party, Charlie, I know of several. Any time you want me to demonstrate, please let me know.”

He winked as that pale nervous look fell away. Her big blue eyes narrowed. “Are you talking about sex?”

He laughed. Trust his Charlie not to mince words. “What do you think?”

She frowned. “I think I’m late for my party.”

“I’m taking that as a firm maybe.”

“Behave, Jake.”

“Never.” He winked again as the ballroom doors opened.

---

It was a small room, but pains had been taken to make it appear expansive. Gleaming golden floors fell away to tall, narrow cathedral windows, the top third a stained glass that broke the streetlights outside into pieces of scarlet, turquoise and amethyst. A small crowd clustered in groups of two or three, watching them enter.

As soon as the doors closed behind them, Stacia excused herself from a serious-looking man in a gray tux. Jake watched his sister approach, his throat tightening yet again.

He needn’t have worried. Stacia was ever the professional in public. There was a brittle edge to her smile, though. He sighed. She was tetchy where Lucjan was concerned. Not without reason, but he wished he could take back his words from earlier.

“How’s the reunion going?” she asked, her eyes on Charlie.

“I’ve been regaled with horror stories about your effectiveness as a slave driver,” Jake said smoothly. “Really, Stace, you need to put away the whip once in a while.”

“Jake!” Charlie poked him, hard. “I didn’t say that shit, Stacia, he did.”

“Did I? I forget.” He smiled innocently while Stacia just rolled her eyes.

“I know my brother, don’t worry. By the way, here’s your room key, Jake,” she said. “We have the three suites above the gallery.”

“Convenient.”

“Yes, I thought so. They maintain them for artists and other visitors. All lovely and you can see Bourbon Street and a good bit of the Quarter from your balcony. You’re on one side of Charlie and I’m on the other. I was headed to Chicago for the next show, but they’ve bumped us back a couple days.” Her nose wrinkled. “Give me a couple more months and no one will even think of delaying a Charlotte Gracen show.”

Nodding, Jake slipped the card key into his pocket, barely registering her words, watching as Tomas pulled Charlie into conversation. Finally, he grabbed his sister’s arm and hauled her away from the small crowd gathering around their little star.

He pushed her back into Tomas’s office. “We need to talk.”

“I thought we talked enough earlier,” Stacia said, her tone brusque.

“Not about you and me. About her. Jesus Christ, Stace. Did you have to make her a bluey? Are you trying to kill me here?” He slumped against the door, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.

Stacia folded her arms and gave him a scowl. “Red hair was a no-brainer, given that skin. And really, Jake, your preferences didn’t enter into it.”

“Well, you could’ve warned me, for fuck’s sake.” He gave the growing bulge in his pants a rueful look. “I think I need a cold shower before I can go back out there.”

Snorting, she pushed him away from the door, then paused with her hand on the knob, her voice taking on a more serious note. “You aren’t really going to mess around with her, are you, baby brother? I know you like her but Charlie, she’s just too . . . too . . .”

“Good for me?” His voice went quiet.

She raised her eyebrows, frowning. “I was going to say fragile. Given your past with women . . .” She shook her head with a sigh. “Not my business. Just go easy on her, okay?”

Stacia turned the handle. Jake’s voice snapped out before he’d made the conscious decision to speak.

“Charlie is not fragile. She may be different, but she’s tougher than you give her credit for.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. She opened her mouth, then shut it again. Finally— “There are all kinds of fragile. You’ve always seen her beauty and strength and that’s great. I see it, too. But Charlie isn’t all the way there yet. Just . . . be careful.”

His twin shut the door with a click. He dropped his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. The uncomfortable combination of arousal, irritation and shame had him grinding his teeth together. But he’d promised Charlie he would be there for her, so after a minute, he waded back into the fray.