In the Stars

Chapter 19

Chapter 19

To Be or Not to Be

Charlotte's eyelids drooped again as she attempted to reread the same sentence for the third time. She was getting nothing done. Coming to the British Library with Laurent was supposed to keep her mind off other things. All it did was put her in a drowsy trance.

She lifted her head and looked around the room. There were quite a few people there, considering it was Sunday. Most of them looked like scholars of some kind; some old and jaded, some young and still impressionable. She put herself somewhere in between the two.

Laurent had no trouble getting deep into his research. She could tell by the shuttered look in his eyes that he wasn't paying attention to anything but his work. She envied him that focus.

It had been awhile since she'd cracked open a serious tome. As this was an auction catalog that showed major art purchases of the 1990's, it was particularly tedious.

She allowed her mind to drift. There was no stopping it at this point.

When Charlotte woke that morning, she had been tangled in her sheets, wearing nothing but her underwear. It had taken a few stunned moments to remember what had transpired after her fateful kiss with Owen.

Arriving back at her house, she had held her breath on a hopeful wish. Really it was more foolish than hopeful, because she knew he couldn't give her what she wanted.

What do I want?

She had stopped in the foyer, realizing even in her foggy mind that she had no earthly clue what she desired. She had looked up at Owen, who was looking back at her. He looked stuck between action and reaction, a catalyst away from throwing caution to the wind.

"Time for bed," he said, his tone revealing nothing.

Her heart raced ahead of her, already climbing the stairs to give itself to him in a wanton fashion. Moving forward, she followed in a dreamlike state.

At the landing, he stopped in front of the guest room.

"See you in the morning."

When reality caught up to her, she turned towards him. His eyes flickered with regret, his foot already through the door.

"Okay."

She couldn't feel much more than a vague sense of disenchantment. Turning again, away from the disgrace she knew would catch up with her by the morning, she pushed open her bedroom door.

"Do you need help?"

Paused, she stared at her hand on the brass handle. "Help?"

"Getting...dressed."

Turning her head to look over her shoulder, she could just make out the fraught lines of his face. It amazed her for a moment- the nuance in the clinch of a jaw.

Her nod was slight, but his keen eyes saw the permission. Reaching out a hand, he went straight for the zipper on the back of her shirt.

Charlotte closed her eyes. When she felt the cool air hit her bare back, her sigh was tremulous. Then his hands slid inside the silky fabric, along her shoulder blades, and pushed the shirt off. It slid from her shoulders, gliding down her body to land on the floor.