Pandora's Box (previously Worth the Wait, a Zebra print best seller) Read Free Page A

hurting any of them, including her.
    If anyone back in Ohio had told her she’d be in this position right now, she would have laughed. Being offered a scholarship to finish her degree at Rutgers University in New Jersey had seemed like a dream. When she transferred and Erik introduced himself, she realized that he was the one paying for the scholarship. At first she had been so furious with him that she was going to drop out and leave. With no job or home to return to, she decided to get her degree first and then pay the money back.
    “Charlie, you’re going to twist the strap right off that purse.”
    “Huh?” She glanced down and noticed the thin black strap tangled in her fingers. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. The closer they got to Erik’s family home, the tenser she felt.
    “There will be a hundred guests at the party. Mother won’t have time to give you a second thought.”
    His words offered no comfort. Charlie didn’t want to be even a first thought
    They arrived at the house at six o’clock. Although she loved the feel of riding with the convertible top down, the wind had ruined her hairstyle. Her long spiral curls fell around her face, making her look as if she had just rolled out of bed. She tried to smooth them back into place, but in the end, she gave up and joined Erik at the front door.
    “What time are we meeting your date?”
    Erik shot her a grin. “Date? We make an appearance, get our parents off our backs, and return to our own lives.”
    “I still want to meet the woman who thinks her tennis coach is a better catch than you.”
    “You are such a brat.”
    She took a moment to admire the large Tudor-style house and the well-trimmed gardens. Pink and white azaleas lined the flagstone walk, and the plush lawn of fresh-cut grass looked more comfortable and smelled nicer than some of the places Charlie had lived in the past few years. With a flash of resentment, she reminded herself that too many people lived in tenements or worse, while one woman had all this space and luxury.
    “Come on, runt. In a few hours, this will all be history,” Erik joked, opening the front door of the house.
    They were greeted at the door by a butler. He took her jacket and held it away from himself as if it bore some kind of deadly germ. This evening promised to be the longest few hours of her life. If the butler had an attitude, what were the friends of Monica Lawson like?
    “Your mother is already at the club overseeing the arrangements,” the butler informed Erik. “Your brother is waiting in the living room.”
    “Oh, rapture! Lord Damian is awaiting our arrival,” Charlie said. “Shall we join him for drinks, Master Erik?”
    “Why, yes, Mistress Charlotte. Let’s do,” Erik rejoined, offering his arm playfully. She hooked her arm though his and allowed him to escort her through the large, intimidating house.
    Damian stood up to greet the arrivals. He took one look at her red sneakers and let out a laugh. “They clash with the outfit.”
    “I know. But the maid forgot to pack my black high-tops. I had thought to stop at Gucci’s for the matching red purse, but I left my Gold Card at the Polo Club and they wouldn’t take my personal check.”
    “You should have used my name. I would have vouched for you.”
    “It’s so gauche to name-drop.”
    Damian shook his head and grinned. “Charlie. Erik has told me nothing about you. What is your real name?” He held up a bottle of wine for her approval.
    “I don’t drink. And my name is Charlotte.”
    “Does that come with a last name, or do you fancy yourself another Madonna?”
    She crinkled her button nose and smiled. “Please. I wear my lingerie under my clothing, not over it. And my last name is Simone.”
    “French?”
    “No. American.”
    He offered her a glass of mineral water. “How old are you?”
    She took the glass and raised it in a salute of thanks. “How ungentlemanly, to ask a lady her age!”
    “I didn’t think