The Bachelor (5 page)

Drat the man anyway. No one on God’s green earth had the ability to affect her the way he had. One look, and she felt like
a hormonal teenager all over again.

The passage of time had affected his good looks—for the better. Age had defined him in incredible ways. His face was leaner,
more chiseled, and, if possible, his eyes were a more striking shade of blue. She shook her head. She’d been too far away
to know for sure—at first because she’d been in front of the restaurant, giving him time alone with Beth, and afterward because
her palms were sweating and she was mortified she couldn’t regain her composure.

But Charlotte was certain one thing about Roman hadn’t changed—his reporter’s instincts. With one glance, he not only saw,
he dissected. And she didn’t want him dissecting her.

“Your hands are shaking,” Beth said.

Charlotte took another hefty sip of the soda her friend had ordered for her. “It’s the caffeine.”

“I think it’s testosterone overload.”

Somehow Charlotte managed to keep from spitting her cola at a grinning Beth. “You mean hormone overload?”

“Whichever. That table of hunky male flesh has you hot and bothered.” She gestured with a flip of her hand toward the corner
occupied by the Chandler brothers.

“Don’t point,” Charlotte said.

“Why not? Everyone else in Norman’s is staring at them.”

“That’s true,” she said, then realized she’d missed her opportunity to deny having seen them. Ignoring the brothers had been
her plan. At least until she’d eaten something and steeled her defenses against Roman’s unsettling impact.

She folded her damp palms, one on top of the other. “But not me. I’m immune.”

“You always were. Or you pretended to be,” Beth said with the wisdom she’d lacked in her youth. “
Not
that I understand in the least.” She shook her head. “Never had, never will.”

Charlotte hadn’t ever told her best friend the truth about why she’d rejected Roman. In high school, she’d had her defenses
a mile high, and next thing she knew, Roman had turned from Charlotte’s rejection to Beth’s willing arms. Despite the pain
and the jealousy, Charlotte had encouraged her friend’s interest, pretending to be immune, as Beth had just said. Then they’d
graduated and Roman had taken off for parts unknown.

Charlotte hadn’t asked how serious their relationship had been. She often told herself it was out of respect for Beth’s privacy,
but the truth was more selfish than that. Charlotte hadn’t wanted to know. And unlike the news of her plastic surgery, Beth
had been discreet on the topic of Roman.

But times had changed and Beth was engaged to another man now. Roman was so far in her past, Charlotte contemplated tackling
the topic tonight.

“He’s still really good looking,” Beth said.

Charlotte changed her mind about a heart-to-heart talk. “Hey. If you’re still interested in Roman, have at him. If Dr. Implant
doesn’t mind, then I don’t.”

“Liar.” Beth tossed her napkin on the table and folded her arms across her chest, a smile pulling at her lips. “I saw the
way you looked him over before he turned and noticed you. And I saw how you shifted your gaze and walked right by, like you
didn’t even see him there.”

Charlotte twisted uncomfortably in her seat. “Is it too late to ask, see who where?”

“Chicken.”

“We all have our weakness, so quit ruffling my feathers. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to the ladies’ room.” Charlotte
made a quick escape without a glance in Roman Chandler’s direction. But as soon as she hit the narrow hallway that led to
the restrooms, she wiped her damp palms against her gauzy skirt.

Five minutes later she’d touched up her lipstick and reminded herself of all her achievements, so if she absolutely had to
make polite conversation with Roman, she’d be able to do so with poise and ease.

With a new attitude, she pushed open the door and walked smack into Roman’s broad chest. The incredible scent of musky aftershave
and potent male surrounded her. Aroused her. She sucked in a surprised breath.

As she stepped back on unsteady feet, he grabbed her forearms with both hands. “Easy.”

Easy? Was he kidding? His palms felt warm, solid, and too good on her bare skin. She looked up into his blue eyes. “This is
the ladies’ room,” she said inanely. She sighed. So much for poise, sparkling conversation, and wit.

“No, this is the hallway. The ladies’ room is behind you and the men’s room is down the hall.” He grinned. “I should know.
I practically grew up here.”

“I need to get back to my table. Beth’s waiting. Beth Hansen, you remember her, right?” Charlotte rolled her eyes This was
getting worse and worse.

To her chagrin, he laughed. “Well, at least now I know you remember me.”

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him and couldn’t bring herself to lie. “I was late, in a rush, Beth was waiting.” She
lifted her hands, then let them fall to her sides.

“So you didn’t mean to ignore me.”

A burning flush rose to her face. “No. I … I have to go. Beth’s waiting for me. Again.”

His rough hand brushed her cheek and a tremor of awareness shot through her body, a quiver he couldn’t possibly miss. “I’ll
let you get back to your table as soon as I ask you a question. It’s been ten years and the attraction between us is still
going strong. When are you going to give in?”

When hell freezes over
came to mind, but she clamped her mouth shut. Because she didn’t really mean it, for one thing, and because he didn’t deserve
such a crushing rejection, for another.

She licked her dry lips. “When are you going to give up trying?”

He grinned. “When hell freezes over.”

He
would
have to mimic her thoughts. She leaned back against the wall for support and protection, but it meant little when Roman took
another step forward, locking her body between the wall and his lean, hard, masculine frame.

Years melted away as his hands bracketed either side of her head and his lips hovered near her jaw. The warmth of his breath
against her cheek and the pressure of his body against hers felt tantalizingly good, making her wonder why she’d resisted
him for so long. Her eyelashes fluttered closed and she allowed herself to enjoy the erotic sensations pulsing through her
veins. For the moment, she reminded herself. No longer.

He was attractive and out of reach, like the exotic destinations she researched and dreamed about but would never visit. Because
she wasn’t her father and her life was here. Stability and a solid future were tied to this town, to having roots. But Roman’s
lips nuzzling at the soft spot between her jaw and her ear made her want to forget safety and routine. Warmth trickled through
her veins, moisture dampened her panties, and she wanted so much more than she’d let herself admit before.

“Have dinner with me on Friday.” His throaty voice reverberated in her ear.

“I can …” His lips settled on her earlobe, his teeth nuzzling exactly the right spot. White hot arrows of desire shot to other,
more private, sensitive areas and the wash of sensation made her body come alive. She moaned aloud, ending her sentence and
cutting off any negative contraction she’d intended.

His teeth nipped, then alternated with delicious laps of his tongue, at once fierce yet feather-soft and light, and more seductive
than the deepest desire she’d ever harbored inside her. If his intent was to sway her, he was doing an amazing job. His lips
lingered, damp and warm, undemanding yet so very seductive at the same time. A small voice in her head tried to rebel, reminding
her this was Roman and he’d leave as soon as his mother was well, or as soon as he grew bored with this town. With
her.

She ought to walk away. Then he caressed the shell of her ear with his tongue and blew lightly on her damp skin. Oh, but he
tempted her, and a moan escaped her barely parted lips.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he whispered.

She forced her eyelids open. Yes to a date with him? “No.”

“That’s not what your body’s telling me.”

He didn’t step back, which made this rejection harder than any she’d delivered in the past—because he was right. “My body
needs a keeper.”

A charming grin touched his lips. “Now, that’s a job I wouldn’t mind taking.”

“Only while you’re in town, of course.” She forced an easy smile.

“Of course.” He finally stepped back, giving her much-needed breathing room. “You should know, I’m a man who appreciates a
challenge, Charlie.”

She stiffened at the use of her father’s nickname for her. He’d chosen her name, Charlotte Bronson, in honor of his favorite
actor, Charles Bronson. “Charlotte,” she corrected Roman.

“Okay,
Charlotte,
you pique my interest. You always have. And if I can admit it, so can you.”

“What’s the difference what I’m willing to admit? You don’t always get what you want in life.” Lord knew
she
rarely had.

“But if you try sometime, you just might get what you need.” He propped one shoulder against the wall and grinned.

“I’m impressed. You know the Rolling Stones.” She applauded for effect.

“Better. I know how to apply their words to life.” He pushed himself off the wall and rose to his full height. “Mark my words,
Charlotte. We
will
have another date.” He started down the long hall, then turned back. “And based on your reaction and mine, we’ll probably
share a whole lot more.” His voice rang with certainty and promise.

“Okay, sure, Roman. We’ll have that date, all right.”

At her words, his eyes opened wide.

“The day you decide to stay in town.” And since
that
would never happen, Charlotte thought, neither would his proposed date. He posed no threat to her at all.
Yeah, right.

“The more you challenge me, the more determined I get.” He laughed, obviously not believing she meant what she had said.

Little did he realize she was deadly serious. Nothing more could happen between Charlotte and the carefree world traveler,
unless, of course, she wanted to end up alone and abandoned, like her mother.

But Roman had thrown down the verbal gauntlet. Now all she had to do was remain strong enough to resist.

B
y the time Roman walked out of Norman’s and into the cooler night air, he had a job to do.

Chase had gotten an emergency call from his editor, Ty Turner, who needed to miss the town meeting in order to accompany his
pregnant wife to the hospital. The last thing Roman wanted to do was take over
that
assignment, but he did want to lighten his brother’s load. So he volunteered to cover the meeting.

And so, while Rick headed to a pay phone to call and check on Raina before heading back to work, and Chase retired to do some
work for next week’s edition, Roman was on his way to tonight’s bickering session.

He glanced at his watch, noting he had a few minutes to kill. A few minutes to browse the seductive shop next door and figure
out who owned it. One look at Charlotte, and he’d nearly forgotten his own name. No way he’d been focused enough to ask her
about her new business.

He focused on the window display and his mouth opened wide. Were those crocheted panties on the amazingly lifelike mannequin?
In the conservative town of Yorkshire Falls? He couldn’t have been more astonished. He felt a distinct rush of arousal when
he realized that raven-haired mannequin bore an uncanny resemblance to Charlotte. Suddenly realizing he looked like an old
lech leering at women’s lingerie, he stepped back. God, he hoped to hell no one was watching, or he’d never live down the
embarrassment.

Roman took another step back and bumped against something hard. He turned around to find Rick, arms folded across his chest,
grinning at him. “See something you like?”

“You’re a laugh riot,” Roman muttered.

“I figured you were revisiting your youth.”

Roman couldn’t mistake Rick’s meaning. Leave it to his middle sibling to remember Roman’s high school prank, done back when
his idea of fun had been a panty raid at a friend’s house, where the girls were having a slumber party. Not only had it been
his idea, but he’d been so damn proud he’d hung a pair from his rearview mirror for about twenty-four hours. Until his mother
had found them and given him a blistering lecture and punishment he’d never forget.

Raina Chandler had a unique way of curing her sons’ most incorrigible habits. After a summer of rinsing his boxers and hanging
them to dry in
front
of the house, he’d never subject anyone to that same humiliation again.

With any luck, the rest of the town had long forgotten. “I can’t believe a shop like this is making it here,” he said, changing
the subject.

“It is. Young and old, slim and the more … robust— they all shop here. The younger ones anyway. Mom’s on a crusade to get
the older women in here too, and she’s one of the most loyal customers.”

“Mom
wears
these panties?”

The brothers shook their heads at the same time, neither wanting his imagination to travel down that path. “How
is
Mom?”

“Hard to tell. She sounded winded when I called, like she’d been running, which is impossible. So I’m heading on over to check
myself.”

Roman exhaled hard. “I’ve got my cell phone. Call me if you need me.”

Rick nodded. “Will do.” He then walked along the street by the store, turned right at the corner leading to the apartments
above, and returned soon after.

“What’s going on?” Roman asked, recognizing a walk-by when he saw one. His brother was patrolling the area and Roman wanted
to know why.

Rick shrugged. “Yorkshire Falls had a couple of break-ins over the weekend.”

Roman’s reporter’s instincts kicked in. “What was stolen?”

A smile Roman could only describe as wicked settled on his brother’s mouth. “If I weren’t with you myself at the time of both
break-ins, you’d be my only suspect. But I’ve got squat.”

“
Panties?
” Roman shifted his gaze from his brother to the assortment in the window, then back again. “You’re telling me some idiot
broke into a house and stole women’s underwear?”