Hot Single Docs: Blinded By The Boss. Amy Andrews
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Charlotte leaned towards him. ‘It’s just an expression. One size fits all.’
She was smiling at him, and that smile seemed to banish all thoughts of whether, either in truth or in paradigm, his home really was a castle. All he could do in the face of such unarguable persuasion was smile back.
‘Yeah. Well, then, whatever size my home is...’ he flipped a glance towards Isaac, hoping he’d get the point ‘...or I am, it’s definitely a castle. Which means I don’t have to answer the doorbell if I don’t want to.’
Isaac seemed to understand and turned his attention back to his meal. Charlotte was more difficult to satisfy.
‘So... Don’t you think you’re missing out on something?’
‘Like what?’ Like the world that she seemed to inhabit? The one where she seemed to navigate chance meetings and random conversations so easily.
‘I don’t know. That’s the thing, isn’t it?’
He shook his head. ‘It’s no one. And, anyway, we’re eating.’ He turned back to the plate in front of him. ‘And this is very good.’
CHARLOTTE HAD STACKED the dishwasher, sat with Isaac until he started to yawn, and then taken him up to bed. She tucked him in, along with Stinky, in the small second guest room which adjoined her own, and closed the connecting door between the two. Isaac had slept soundly for the last two nights, and showed no signs of doing anything else tonight.
Edward had seen to it that Isaac should feel at home here. When he’d taken them both back to the house on Saturday afternoon he’d filled the boot of his car with Isaac’s things—toys, games, clothes—so that he shouldn’t wake in the night and find himself in a completely strange place. Somehow the molecule modelling kit had found its way up here, too, and Charlotte wondered whether Edward had put it there. The thought made her smile.
When she got back downstairs the room was silent. Edward was in an easy chair with his nose in a book. Not wanting to disturb him, Charlotte retreated to the kitchen and set about cutting sandwiches for Isaac’s lunch tomorrow.
It was awkward being alone with him. At work, and when Isaac was around, she had a reason to ignore the desire to touch him. Now it was just him and her, and the empty space between them seemed almost to be daring her to breach it.
She’d finished the sandwiches, and was sitting at the kitchen table wondering what to do next, when the door opened quietly.
‘Hey.’
‘Oh...’ She jumped, almost spilling the cup of coffee in front of her. Suddenly she noticed that the deep blue open-necked shirt he’d pulled on when he got home emphasised the colour of his eyes. ‘You’re busy. I didn’t mean to disturb you.’
He shook his head, as if the concept were new to him. It probably was. Short of a nuclear explosion, it was practically impossible to divert his attention away from what he was doing at work. ‘You don’t need to sit in here, you know.’
‘Yes... I mean, no. I mean... I don’t want to get in the way.’
‘You aren’t. I’d appreciate the company.’
He meant it. Edward who had always seemed so aloof at work, so self-sufficient. And yet he’d surprised her by seeming to understand just how she and Isaac felt. There was a great deal more to Edward than met the eye.
‘Me, too. I’ll...make some coffee, shall I?’ She looked at the mug of instant in front of her. ‘Some fresh coffee.’
‘That’s okay. I’ll do it.’ His mouth quirked. ‘Refreshments and snacks don’t count as cooking.’
His quiet, dry humour curled around her like a delicious full-bodied chuckle. ‘Oh. So you’re beginning to chip away at our bargain, are you?’
‘I don’t think so. I don’t remember any mention of brewing, looking in the fridge, or pouring.’ He measured the coffee into the machine and switched it on. ‘And I certainly don’t recall having covered electrical appliances.’
She smiled at him. ‘I’m going to have to watch myself, aren’t I? Next time I make a bargain with you, I’ll make sure I read the small print.’
Did that sound a bit too forward? Hopefully everything would be settled in a few days’ time and she would be on her way back home. Edward would forget her as he moved on to his next project of interest.
‘Yeah. Always read the small print.’
He flipped open the cupboard doors and pulled out two cups, his long fingers placing them precisely on the counter. He had a delicate touch. He had to have. Microsurgery was one of the most challenging disciplines in a challenging world. And Edward was the best at what he did—just like everyone else at 200 Harley Street.
He made the coffee and picked up her cup with his own, taking it into the sitting room, as if unsure whether she might follow otherwise. Charlotte perched herself on the sofa, casting around for something that she could make conversation about.
‘This is a lovely room.’
He nodded. ‘Thank you.’
‘Do you play the piano much?’ From the wide-ranging collection of CDs on his shelves, and the grand piano, Edward was obviously passionate about music. In the three days that she and Isaac had been here, though, he’d never once opened the piano. Never once switched on the high-end audio equipment.
‘Most days. Do you play?’
‘No. I love listening, though.’
He must have changed his routine because of her presence. Maybe she could encourage him to change it back again.
Edward didn’t move. ‘I wouldn’t want to wake Isaac.’
‘You won’t. He’s upstairs and he’s fast asleep.’
Maybe she shouldn’t have asked. Maybe this was something private, that Edward didn’t like to share.
It was something private—she could see it in the way he hesitated. But then he made his decision, jumping up and striding across the room. Charlotte tried not to notice the ease with which he lifted the heavy lid, or the way that his shoulder flexed as he propped it open. Suddenly his mastery over the large, shining instrument was physical, as well as just a matter of the mind.
Sitting down, he raised the lid from the keyboard and lowered his fingers onto the keys. ‘Any requests?’
For a moment she couldn’t think. Then Charlotte knew what she really wanted to hear. ‘Something you like.’
He nodded. Charlotte was expecting something classical, but the soft strains of Ain’t Misbehavin’ started to float across the room. Mesmerised, she moved closer and he beckoned her over, shifting up on the long piano seat to make room for her.
She swallowed hard. The music invited her. The way he made the song sound as if it had been written just for her. His sensitive fingers stroked the keys. Charlotte wanted nothing more at that moment than to sit next to him, be a part of this world. His world.
He raised one eyebrow at her hesitation, and the music swelled in reproach. She gave in and slid onto the edge of the stool, angling her body away from his.
‘You’ll fall off...’
The music dropped to a few notes, played with his left hand, while his right arm curled around her waist, pulling her further onto the stool. She was not quite touching him, and the seat was plenty long enough for two, but that didn’t seem to make any difference. She could practically feel his body moving against hers.
There were a few chords that seemed to be his own addition to the mix, and then he segued into As Time Goes By.
‘Mmm.