Lori Foster

Charade: Impetuous / Outrageous


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never have any children of his own. His life wasn’t conducive to raising kids. And he would never cheat a child of the warmth and love they deserved. Children should enrich life; they should be cherished and protected, not considered a burden to be tolerated.

      An image of Carlie, married and cradling a baby of her own, flitted through his mind. It left behind conflicting emotions; tenderness, because he knew she would be an excellent mother. But also possessiveness, which made no sense at all. He refused to dwell on that sentiment, and put the image firmly from his mind.

      It disturbed him, how much she occupied his thoughts. Especially when he had other things to think about. He wouldn’t give up on the mystery woman—he wasn’t a man to leave a puzzle unsolved. But time and again, he found his thoughts veering to Carlie and her unusual wit, the gentleness and patience she gave her students.

      Anyone who took the time to really know Carlie, would realize there was nothing plain about her, despite the horrendous clothing she wore. She was about as complex and complicated as any female could be. He hadn’t exaggerated when he said she intrigued him.

      Though he knew she’d had a good time with him, she had refused any future dates. She didn’t return his calls, either. He would almost swear she was avoiding him, but why?

      He would take his time, and sooner or later he would figure her out.

      He intended to enjoy every minute.

      CARLIE SAW TYLER’S car pull up to the curb in front of Brenda’s. His arrival was unexpected, and she went perfectly still. He jerked the car into Park, then jumped out, appearing determined—more than determined, if the look on his face was any indication. He disappeared past the window, then came to the kitchen door.

      He knocked sharply, once, then stepped inside without waiting for an answer. Brenda met him there, her hands on her hips, blocking his vision of the kitchen table where Carlie sat.

      “Tyler! What are you doing here?”

      “I insist you tell me who she is.”

      “Who?”

      He gave her a look of impatience. “Enough, Brenda. You know who I mean. The harem girl. Who is she?”

      Brenda rolled her eyes. “For the last time, Tyler. No!”

      Carlie wanted to disappear. It was a miserable Sunday morning, aptly suiting her mood. She’d come to Brenda’s for solace, her emotions in turmoil. Nothing was as it had been only days before. She didn’t know what to think, what to do. She’d learned so much lately. Too much.

      One thing was certain: she couldn’t just look at her experience with Tyler as a sexual lesson. Her one “date” with him had proven that. Tyler had touched more than her body. He’d thrown away the misconceptions she’d had about herself, stolen her fears and her disappointments.

      And now that she saw him nearly every day, she feared he might very well steal her heart.

      She couldn’t let that happen. She needed time to think, to reason out her reactions. But here was Tyler, wanting to know who she really was. It was too ironic to bear.

      “Your friends are something else, Bren. They’re driving me crazy.” He ran his hands roughly through his hair, the gesture filled with frustration.

      “Friends?”

      “Don’t sound so innocent. First the harem girl refuses to tell me who she is. Then Carlie refuses to return my calls. I ask her out, and all she can say is no. I swear, that woman is totally—”

      Brenda interrupted him then, clearing her throat loudly and gesturing with her eyes to draw his attention to the kitchen table. He looked, and Carlie saw his beautiful eyes narrow slightly.

      His annoyance seemed to disappear; he became almost cheerful. “What the hell’s the matter with you? You look awful.”

      After shooting him a disgusted frown, she turned away. “I have a cold,” Carlie said. She sincerely hoped he wouldn’t question her further, because her swollen, sleepy eyes had little to do with illness.

      “And that made your hair all frizzy?”

      “No, that didn’t make my hair all frizzy.” She mimicked him perfectly. “I jogged over here in the rain, and the rain makes my hair go frizzy.”

      Tyler scrutinized her. “You just said you had a cold! Why the hell were you out in the rain?”

      “I jog every Sunday. Why should today be any different? A little rain never killed anyone.” She knew she was being more waspish than usual, but she hadn’t planned on having to face him this morning. Her heart ached, and her head followed suit.

      “No. Rain doesn’t kill, it just makes some people’s hair go frizzy.” Tyler grinned. “At least a few strands found the excuse to escape that infernal braid. It’s probably a hair rebellion.”

      He laughed at his own jest, and Carlie stiffened at the sound. She pushed her glasses up, then lifted her chin. “Maybe I should go now, Bren. Tyler obviously has something he wants to discuss with you. And I’d hate to get stuck in the downpour, anyway.”

      Brenda smacked Tyler, then hurried to Carlie. “Don’t go, yet. We haven’t finished...talking.”

      “Yeah, Carlie.” Tyler pulled out a chair and straddled it, facing Carlie with a huge grin. “I probably won’t get any information out of Brenda, anyway. She’s looking very stubborn, don’t you think?” Then he turned to Brenda. “But you and I will talk later.”

      “It won’t do you any good. I already told you I’m sworn to secrecy.”

      Exasperated, he looked at Carlie pointedly. “Do you really want to discuss my personal life in front of company?”

      Brenda scoffed. “Carlie isn’t company.”

      “Gee, thanks, Bren,” Carlie said.

      “You know what I mean, Carlie. Besides, I’m sure you couldn’t care less about Tyler’s love life. Right?”

      Carlie tightened her mouth, feeling caught in a nightmare. Brenda was trying to tease; she still wanted Carlie to tell Tyler the truth. Only Brenda didn’t know what the truth was, and Carlie had no doubt she’d be shocked if she did. For that matter, Tyler would be shocked, too. And probably disappointed. Carlie couldn’t bear that. “You’re right. I don’t care to sit through any details. So—” she stood “—I’m off.”

      Tyler caught her wrist. “You can’t walk home, now. It’s raining.”

      “Believe me, it won’t bother me a bit.”

      “Now, Carlie, don’t be obstinate.”

      “Tyler, I’m dangerously close to laying you low.” She had to get away from him. Now.

      “Violence? My, my, your cold is making you surly.”

      She tugged, but he didn’t release her. “Tyler, what did you intend to do today, before you came here and decided to harass me?”

      “I was going to harass Brenda, but you’ll do better.”

      She could feel the warmth of his hand on her arm, feel the probing intensity of his eyes. “Let go. I want to leave.”

      Tyler looked down at his hand, still wrapped around Carlie’s wrist. She saw what he saw. His fingers entirely encircled her. She had slim, fine-boned wrists. He said, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

      Her breath caught somewhere in her diaphragm, causing her chest to ache. It took a great deal of effort to banter with him. “I’ve been busy. And why are you calling me on a weekend, anyway? Surely your social calendar is fully penciled in.”

      He flashed her a grin. “No, and there were numerous disappointed ladies,