Cathy Thacker - Miss Charlotte Surrenders

Brett straightened and moved toward her. The look he gave her was direct and uncompromising. His teeth flashed in a knowing smile, and he offered lazily, “I decided I didn’t want to cut the grass, after all.”

Charlotte regarded him with resentment. “ Want doesn’t come into this, Brett.”

He looked at her as if to say, Doesn’t it?

Charlotte felt another flash of discomfort. She knew there were some who would say there was no justification for the way she had just pried. Under any other circumstances, she might even agree with them. But what she had done was neither here nor there when it came to dealing with their lackadaisical caretaker. “When I assign you a task, as your employer, I expect it to be done,” Charlotte advised.

Brett leaned across her desk and braced his hands on either side of her. Their glances met. For a second, Charlotte found it hard to get her breath. Warm color flooded her cheeks.

Brett grinned. “Don’t get your knickers in a knot, Miss Charlotte.” Without warning, his glance dropped to the notepad she’d been writing on. Charlotte promptly covered it with another notebook. She was unable to tell how much of the address Brett had been able to read.

“I arranged to have the grass cut by a poker-playing buddy of mine who also happens to own a tractor with a grass-cutting attachment,” Brett continued, taking a seat on the edge of the grand old desk. He propped his wrists on his spread thighs. “He’s going to cut the entire property, starting tomorrow. In return, I’m going to let him off the hook for a poker debt he owes me.”

Leave it to Brett to have a good explanation for his laziness, too. “How generous of you,” she said sweetly.

He leaned toward her sexily. “Considering how much he owes me, I thought so.”

Her pulse racing, Charlotte gave him wide berth and stalked to the window. She opened the floor-to-ceiling drapes. Sunshine poured into the room. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a master at getting out of work?” She whirled back to face him and found to her dismay the distance had done nothing to dim her awareness of him.

Brett took her in from head to toe, his glance lingering on the softness of her breasts before returning to the flushed contours of her face. “I don’t want to get out of all work,” he assured her cheerfully, pushing away from the desk. “In fact, that’s why I came in to see you.” He strode toward her, not stopping until they were mere inches apart. “I want to repair the shutter out front, but I don’t know where the tools or ladders are.”

Charlotte drew a deep breath and caught a tantalizing whiff of his cologne. She folded her arms in front of her. “They’re in the storage room in the garage.”

His glance drifted over the ivory silk blouse she had tucked into her pleated trousers. “There’s no storage room in the garage.”

“Yes, there is.”

“Well, I’ve never seen it,” Brett said.

He was standing so close to her she had to tilt her head back to see into his face. Charlotte sighed. “I suppose you want me to show you?”

He shrugged. His blue eyes were dancing as he looked down at her. “Only if you want the shutter fixed,” he allowed.

Right. Frowning, Charlotte picked her keys up off the desk with a snap of her wrist and marched out into the hall.

Brett lengthened his strides to keep up with her. He reached ahead to hold the front door open for her, and she had to run sideways to scoot past him. “Are you mad at me or the person you were lying to on the phone?” Brett asked innocently, as he followed her out onto the porch.

Charlotte turned around so swiftly she almost crashed headlong into his chest. He reached out to steady her, his grip on her arm warm and solid. She leaned into him momentarily. “You need to forget what you overheard when you walked in,” Charlotte advised him sternly.

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