‘I’m sorry, Charlotte.’
‘Eh …?’
‘You must have been worried when you couldn’t find Isaac.’
Worried? Frantic, more like. ‘I … I’m sorry he bothered you.’
‘He was no trouble. He seems to like molecules …’ Edward almost smiled and then thought better of it. Too bad. In that brief moment his eyes had seemed bluer, and his dark good looks less brooding.
‘He’s only five. He likes putting things together and taking them apart again …’ The rush of relief at finding Isaac had left her feeling like a limp dishcloth. And now this. Instinctively Charlotte put one hand to her brow, as if to shade herself from the intensity of those blue eyes which seemed to hold so much that was unsaid.
‘Hey. What’s this?’
He was on his feet, his hands on her shoulders. Edward had the worst timing of any man she’d ever known, bar none. Of all the times to choose to be kind, this was the one most likely to reduce her to tears.
‘Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m okay.’ She tried to avoid his gaze.
‘Clearly you’re not.’
There was a note of tenderness in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. Something warm about the arm which wound around her shoulder. Something about his scent that made her instinctively sink into him, even though she knew that this was probably one of the worst ideas she’d ever had in her life.
Under the crisp white shirt there was some serious musculature. Strong arms, and a flat, hard stomach. For the second time in the last few minutes the swimming pool flashed into Charlotte’s head, but this time the image was considerably more inviting.
‘I’m okay …’ Charlotte thought about pushing him away and then decided that putting her hands anywhere near him would be far too much of a temptation. ‘Really. I’m fine.’
He seemed to feel it, too. He stepped back quickly, almost as if she’d burnt him, and turned towards his desk. ‘If there’s anything that’s bothering you, you should let someone know.’ He thought for a moment, obviously considering himself an unlikely candidate for any kind of emotional disclosure. ‘Lizzie, perhaps … I’m sure she’d be able to do … whatever’s needed.’
Edward had switched back into professional mode and the relief was almost palpable. ‘No. There’s nothing. I just had a bit of a scare when I couldn’t find Isaac …’ She bit her words back. Nothing like blaming the very person who had just tried to help her.
‘I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.’
That was supposed to be her line. She smiled up at him, wishing that she could smooth some of the creases on his brow. ‘It’s okay. He’s safe, and that’s all that matters. I’m sorry he disturbed you. He knows he mustn’t wander around here.’
‘That’s all right. It was nice to talk to him.’ He gestured stiffly towards the molecule model kit. ‘His approach is refreshingly creative, compared with most.’
Was that a joke? It was difficult to tell with Edward, but the possibility intrigued Charlotte. She could see Lucy and Isaac out of the corner of her eye, settling themselves down on the sofa with their drinks. They’d be at least another five minutes, and hadn’t Paula always said that Charlotte only needed five minutes to get anyone to open up?
‘What’s it for? If you don’t mind my asking?’
‘You can use it for anything. I’m thinking of DNA sequencing.’ The way he brushed off the question almost made her believe that everyone had a model of a DNA sequence somewhere in their office.
‘Ah. Right. Anyone in particular?’
‘Mine, actually. Just a snippet of it, of course. But don’t you think there’s something rather interesting about actually being able to look at something that’s the very basis of your own make-up?’
‘I’d never really thought about it.’ Now he mentioned it, there was. There was an obscure symmetry about the concept that made her smile, even if she didn’t properly understand it.
‘You should. It would be interesting for Isaac …’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Perhaps when he’s a bit older.’
‘Yes, I think so. Is that all?’ She should go now. She’d managed to stem her tears for the moment, but who knew how long that particular dam was going to hold? Hopefully until after Isaac was safely tucked up in bed.
‘Are you going home? I’m going your way. I’ll give you a lift. The buses are horrible at this time of day—’ He broke off, as if he’d let something slip that he shouldn’t.
How did he know she took the bus home? And how did he know which way she went? Charlotte stared at him.
‘I’ve seen you waiting at the two-three-nine bus stop. And the two-three-nine goes almost directly along my route home. Of course you could be catching the number thirteen, but most people who do that walk down to the Oxford Circus stop, so they can get a seat—’ He broke off again, obviously wondering whether that was too much information.
‘Right. Next time I want to know which bus to take, I’ll know who to ask.’ She grinned at him. ‘But it’s okay, really. You must still have work to do and we’ll be going in a minute.’
He shrugged. ‘I was operating at six this morning, I should have been gone hours ago. And … You look tired.’
Perhaps Edward noticed more than everyone thought.
There was no perhaps about it. He clearly did. Somewhere inside a smile formed at the thought that some of those things were connected with her.
‘We … we can’t. Isaac needs a proper car seat …’ It was a pity. The buses were always packed on a Friday evening and she could have done with a ride home.
‘No problem. I have one fitted in my car.’
Something told Charlotte that Edward had worked all of this through before he’d even made the offer. The complex equation balanced two shopping bags, one child and an indeterminate number of full buses, crawling through the traffic, against one child seat, a comfortable car and a lift home. He probably already knew what she was about to say.
She smiled, wondering whether he’d factored that in or not. ‘Okay. If it’s no trouble. Thanks.’
EDWARD GAVE NO explanation for the brand-new child’s car seat when he opened the back door of his sleek dark blue car and waved Isaac inside. Perhaps the girls at work were right. Perhaps he did have a woman somewhere. A woman with a child. So much for Paula’s assertions that it couldn’t hurt to try to breach Edward’s reserve.
All the same, there was nothing wrong with taking a lift from him, and Charlotte couldn’t deny that this was a great deal nicer than the bus. Not having to continually grab at her bags to get them out of the way of someone else’s feet. Isaac safely strapped in behind her, with Stinky on his lap. Leather seats. The quiet strains of music floating at her from four different directions. She began to relax.
‘It would be more convenient for you to drive to work.’
As they passed Regent’s Park Edward’s customary forthrightness broke the silence.
‘Yeah. More expensive, too.’ She grinned at him. ‘Congestion charge, parking costs.’
He nodded. ‘I thought you were going to say you liked the bus.’
‘It’s not so bad. You meet a lot of interesting people on buses.’
‘So it’s a social