Chapter 4
In her bedroom, CC leaned against the door she had just closed. If she wasn't mistaken, Niles had had quite a reaction to the accidental free show she had just given him. His, ahem, interest helped curb her embarrassment as she moved to her closet to get dressed. It also made her wonder. Perhaps there was something there after all. Perhaps she had written him off too quickly, after the date that had seemed to lead nowhere back in February.
She was a little surprised at herself for meeting him at the door in a towel in the first place. She allowed herself a grin. It had been worth it to see him clutch the counter to stay upright at the sight of her breasts.
Flipping through the skirts and blouses hanging from the long rack, CC considered his questions. She knew Niles was an observant man. One of the nosiest she'd ever met, in fact. But he hadn't often focused that attention on her, and it was a little disconcerting to realize that he'd been aware of emotions and changes in her life that CC had done her best to keep hidden.
Because the fact of the matter was, CC wasn't dying. She wasn't even ill. But she was undergoing some medical procedures, and she had chosen to do it privately, without involving the other people in her life. Until it became necessary to involve them, but that hadn't happened yet. And while Niles's concern—or his curiosity, CC wasn't sure which—was intriguing to her, she wasn't ready to confide in him.
Smiling to herself, CC slipped on her underwear and acknowledged that Niles was no longer her sworn enemy. Not after having spent a long evening wrapped in his arms at and after the awards banquet. CC had thought, after that, that they might have finally taken a step forward in their relationship, if you could call it that. But Niles had been back to his old self in the days after they had spent hours dancing together, needling her about her age and her love life, and while CC always found sparring with him invigorating, she had hoped for… Well. She wasn't entirely sure what she had hoped for, but a return to the status quo was not it.
Hearing Chester barking again in the living room, CC leaned down to slide her feet one by one into her pumps. Finally dressed, she opened the bedroom door and saw Niles on her couch. She liked the way he looked there, in her space, making himself at home. Of course, she'd never tell him that. Giving her head a shake to clear those thoughts, she called out to him, "Niles. Sorry about that. What were you saying?"
The woman had no need to apologize, and Niles suspected she wasn't remotely sorry, in any case. He turned to look at her. Somewhat less breathtaking with so many of the important bits covered, but still, she'd do. Her damp hair curled around her chin, and Niles realized he had never seen her hair not perfectly styled. He liked it. He smiled at her. "Miss Babcock, I was merely inquiring about your health. But you do seem to be in fine form today, so perhaps I was mistaken to worry."
CC didn't know how to take a compliment from him, though she did think he was being earnest. "I can assure you, Niles, I am perfectly fine. Just a bit tired lately, with the new play and the stress of signing Morgan Faulkner and keeping Maxwell in line. You understand."
Niles didn't know how to interpret a polite response from her. "Babcock, I do understand. But you wouldn't lie to me, would you?" He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the mystery than overwork. After all, she'd always done that, as long as he'd known her. And it didn't explain the prescription bottles or the cryobank.
CC responded smoothly, "I'm as honest with you as you are with me, merry maid."
That wasn't reassuring. But what could he say? "Very well. I'm sorry to have interrupted your morning routine. God knows you need all the time you can get to put on your face."
CC covered a smile by turning abruptly to her coffee machine, shutting it off and filling a travel mug. "We both know you'd rather be here tormenting me than doing any actual work back at the house."
Now that was reassuring. "When you're right, you're right, Babcock." He stood, and went to her coat closet. "Shall we?" He asked, holding her coat for her.
CC focused on the carpet instead of meeting his gaze. "I'm not going straight to the office, Niles. I have an appointment first."
Niles looked at her, questions in his eyes. "But where—"
"Please, just go on without me. I'll be in by lunchtime," CC interrupted him.
A pout upon his lips, Niles nodded, and stepped closer to her. "I assume you're leaving now? Let me help you with your coat, at least."
"Thanks, Niles." She turned, and he held the coat for her. After she slipped her arms into the sleeves, he ran his hands down to her elbows, then back up to her shoulders in what could only be interpreted as a caress. CC shivered at his touch and turned to face him, her lips slightly ajar in wonder at the expression on his face. He straightened her collar, and leaned in to say quietly, "Perhaps you'll tell me soon?"
CC swallowed. "Perhaps I will." She found herself moving closer to him in spite of every instinct that told her it was a bad idea. Resting her hands lightly on his shoulders, she touched her lips to his cheek, then pulled back. "Bye, Niles. Thanks for checking on me."
It was his turn to shiver. "Anytime, chicken. Anytime." His voice sounded like sandpaper, and as he reached to open the door, CC bit her lip. She hoped she wasn't making a big mistake.
Niles stepped into the hall and walked to the elevator bay. He didn't allow himself to slump against the wall until he was well out of CC's line of sight. Perhaps she would tell him soon. And if not, he thought as he reached to pull the manila envelope from the waistband of his trousers, he was going to figure out the mystery himself.
