Not that Caine struck me as the type. And I’d bet all my money he wasn’t into PDA either.
Suddenly a thought crossed my mind. “Caine.”
His hand was on the door when he glanced back at me. “Yes?”
“Maybe we should keep what’s happening here between us a secret.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because you’re not exactly low profile and I don’t want anyone in Boston to find out who I am, because then the rest of the Hollands will find out who I am. I don’t want that.”
“Don’t you mean your grandfather doesn’t want that?”
I flinched at the mention of Grandpa. I knew, after Caine’s revelation about him, that I shouldn’t care, but it wasn’t so easy. I couldn’t just flip off my emotions. Only fifteen minutes ago I’d loved and trusted Edward Holland. I was gutted, shocked by the truth about him, but I was also confused as to how I was supposed to feel about him now. I lowered my gaze and shrugged. “Same thing.”
“Is it?”
I got off the bed and reached for the robe that was draped over the nearby chair. Caine watched me with great interest as I pulled it on to cover my nakedness. “Look,” I said, “I don’t know what to do about my grandfather now, but I do know I don’t want anything to do with the rest of the family. If that means keeping who I am a secret, then fine. Can you just do this for me?”
He contemplated the request for a moment and then gave me a sharp nod. “Fine. We’ll keep it a secret.”
“Thank you.” I smiled gratefully and I could have sworn Caine’s eyes warmed in response.
“I’ll probably end up telling Effie, however,” he said with an air of weary inevitability. “That woman is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out secrets.”
I chuckled and nodded. “That’s okay.”
Caine gave me a small smile in return, just the tiniest of little lip quirks, and it warmed me.
And then he was gone.
My answering smile slipped from my lips and I stared after him, forlorn. I already wanted more from him and we were only five minutes into our casual fling.
Once we landed back in Boston, the driver took us to the office instead of home. Caine had a meeting with the board of directors and he couldn’t miss it.
I discovered quite quickly that everything between us was the same as before except that it wasn’t. Although our working relationship had the same efficient rhythm to it, things were definitely more pleasant between us. Caine was naturally quite abrupt in manner, but his grumpy impatience with me was gone.
Then there was the tension between us.
It had always been there.
But now it was actually intensified—the air between us thick with knowing and sparking with electric chemistry.
We did a good job of ignoring it in public. On the plane we ate lunch and discussed business, and when we got back into the office we each pretended we didn’t know what sex sounds the other made. I caught up on my work while Caine met with the board of directors. Every now and then I’d find myself drifting off, thinking of my grandfather and his betrayal. I’d push those ugly thoughts aside, replacing them with memories of the night before and the absolutely sensual adventure my boss took me on.
I smirked.
My boss.
That was kind of naughty.
I grinned even harder.
I’d never done anything naughty before.
I laughed quietly to myself.
“What’s funny?”
I glanced up, taken by surprise at the sudden appearance of Caine. He approached my desk, eyes alight with humor. I spun around to face him in my chair and grinned back. “I could tell you, but I won’t.”
Encroaching on my personal space, he stopped so his knees were almost touching my legs and I had to arch my neck to look up at his face. His eyes washed over mine before roaming lower. They lingered a little longer than appropriate on my legs before traveling upward. “I’m going to be here a little late tonight, but you should head home. I’ll have my driver take you.”
This was different too. Usually Caine delighted in cutting into my personal time. “Are you sure you don’t need me?”
His eyelids lowered slightly in an unconscious smolder that sent off a rush of tingles between my legs. “Not just now. But I’ll come by your place when I’m finished up here.”
“My place?”
“Mmm.” He put his hands on my armrests and leaned into me so our mouths were about an inch apart. His hot breath whispered across my lips. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”
My whole body tightened at the thought of what he’d do to me once he got to my apartment. I sounded a little breathless when I replied, “Shouldn’t you wait to be invited first?”
His eyes narrowed. “Lexie, may I come to your apartment tonight so I can fuck your brains out?”
Lust whooshed in my lower belly.
I lifted my gaze from his mouth to his eyes and a smile tickled my lips. “I suppose that would be okay.”
That was when he grinned at me—a full-on grin that made my heart flutter and turned me into a puddle of warm mush.
I was still staring at his office door in wonder minutes after he’d disappeared inside it.
Sun poured in through my windows, illuminating Caine as he sat at my breakfast bar, sipping coffee and reading the Saturday paper. I tried to keep my attention on the omelet I was making for us, but I found I was easily distracted by the fact that Caine was sitting, casual as you please, in my apartment waiting on breakfast.
The night before, I’d waited with those darn butterflies in my stomach for Caine to finish up his work and come to me. I killed time by calling Rachel and updating her on the situation. She thought it was exciting and announced she wanted absolutely every detail so she could live vicariously through me. Grandpa called not long after my conversation with Rach. I’d thought when I heard from him I would be able to confront him about the blood money he’d offered Caine’s dad. But I found the words stuck low in my throat, painful and resistant. I told myself that when I finally saw him in person, we’d discuss it. It wasn’t a conversation I could just start up over the phone. Yet the truth was … I was scared. I wanted Grandpa to have a reason that made sense for what he did, but I knew that he couldn’t. I knew no reason would be good enough, and I wasn’t quite ready to face the reality that he wasn’t the man I thought he was. So when he asked me if I’d found a new job I told him Caine and I had worked it out and I was going to remain in his employ. Somehow Grandpa read between the lines and he was not happy. But that didn’t bother me like it would have yesterday. Who was he to be disappointed in me, after all?
After the phone call with my grandfather I pushed him to the back of my mind in favor of overanalyzing this thing with Caine. I went over and over whether I was doing the right thing. I swung back and forth, reaching for my cell to call Caine and tell him not to come to me. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do it because I wasn’t ready to give him up.
Just before midnight I let Caine into my building and opened the door to him. I was wearing a tiny silk camisole and matching shorts.
The tiredness in the back of his eyes faded when he took me in. He’d stepped into the apartment, kicked the door shut behind him, pressed me back against the wall, and slid his hands up to my waist. His lips brushed mine. “I was wrong. This is what you should wear to work.”
My laughter had been swallowed up in his deep, hot kiss.
Sex this time had been slower, headier, as Caine took his time getting to know my body and allowing me to get to know his. We’d only drifted to sleep a few hours before dawn, but Caine was an early riser. In every way. And that meant I was awake early too, although I wasn’t complaining. An orgasm was a nice way to say hello to the day.
And now here I was.
Making him breakfast in my kitchen like we did this all the time.
I put his omelet down in front of him and slid onto the stool opposite h
im to dig into mine.
“Thank you,” he said before cutting into it.
“You’re welcome.”
We ate in silence and I realized that Caine seemed perfectly happy for us to remain in silence.
I frowned.
Suddenly the whole kitchen scenario didn’t give me the warm fuzzies.
When Caine said he wanted this to be an affair, he literally meant sex. Just sex. And the occasional quiet breakfast, obviously.
Hmm.
I wanted to get to know him better, but how did I go about drawing him into conversations that actually meant something?
Well, first you need to get him talking. About anything.
“Why my apartment?” I blurted out.
When Caine looked up from the paper, confusion wrinkled his brow. “What?”
“Why did you come to me? I could have come to you. Is it because of Effie?”
“No.” Caine shook his head and returned to his paper. “I just like your apartment.”
Surprised, I was quiet a moment. I gazed around at my apartment, trying to work out what it was about it that Caine liked. It couldn’t have been more different from his place. “Why?” I said.
He shrugged and kept eating. He frowned at something he read and turned the page.
Okay, that wasn’t an answer, and it looked like I wasn’t going to get one.
I decided not to push it and take the fact that he’d admitted he liked my apartment as a score for the day.
We sat in silence until we’d finished breakfast, and when he was done Caine thanked me again, leaned over the counter to kiss me, and then left. There was no arranging to spend the day together, no word of meeting up at night. Nothing.
I stared glumly at our empty plates.
But at least I’d gotten a kiss good-bye this time.
CHAPTER 15
Sex followed by the quiet breakfast foreshadowed what was to come. Saturday night Caine didn’t come over to my place. He called the next day and said if I was around he’d come over that night.
And he did.
We had mind-blowing sex in my living room and then he left.
Monday through Thursday that was pretty much our lives. We worked together under the pretense of complete professionalism. I went home around six thirty and Caine came over around ten thirty. We fucked and then he went back to his apartment.
There was nothing romantic about it. Yeah, it was hot and that heat only seemed to be getting hotter, but Caine’s walls were still high and impenetrable and I had no clue how to break them down.
I was failing miserably.
But then two things happened that gave me a spark of hope. The first was that Caine had an art gala to attend that Friday evening that was being hosted by the wife of one of his board of directors. As soon as I arranged for one of his tuxes to be pressed, I was on tenterhooks, worrying about the person he would invite to go with him. I couldn’t attend because we’d decided to keep our relationship private. However, we also hadn’t discussed whether we were going to be exclusive during our affair. I was more than gratified, then, when Caine told me that he was going to the event solo. Still, I wished I’d had the courage to ask him about exclusivity so I could know for certain one way or another.
Come Friday the second thing happened to give me my answer …
The stationery room was about to pay witness to my printer-induced rage.
I’d spent the last twenty-five minutes fiddling around with the digital computer screen on the damn thing, trying to work out why on earth it wouldn’t print.
“Argh!” I smacked the side of it. “What is wrong with you?”
“This is just a guess but I’m thinking it’s the tall lady physically abusing it.”
Recognizing the voice, I cut Henry a look out of the corners of my eyes. He was lounging against the doorframe, grinning at me. “I should warn you that I am this close to committing printercide, and if that doesn’t calm me down I’m moving on to homicide. Closest person gets it.”
Henry chuckled and ignored my warning by walking casually into the room. “Let me have a look.”
I stepped back, doubtful. “I’m not sure there’s any point.”
“I’m offended,” he said, not sounding the least bit as he leaned in to look at the screen. “You think a Lexington doesn’t need to know such provincial things as fixing a malfunctioning printer?”
“Well, yeah.”
He chuckled and started flicking through the screen. He hit a button and suddenly the printer whirred to life.
My jaw almost hit the floor. “How did—but how …?”
Henry reached for my letter as it printed out. He handed it to me with no small amount of smugness. “You look like you’re going to cry.”
I took the papers from him and nodded. “I feel like I might. I’ve been in here for twenty-five minutes. They were the longest twenty-five minutes of my life. And then you walk in, spend two seconds with the thing, and just fix it. Voila. Like it’s nothing.”
“Oh, poor baby.” Henry laughed and put his arm around my shoulder, leading me out of the room toward my desk. “You should have called.”
“How was I to know that Henry Lexington is fluent in Printer?”
“Ah, well, there are a lot of things about me you’d learn if you gave it the time.”
I rolled my eyes at his flirting, more than used to it by now.
“Where have you been?” Caine stepped out of his office door, stopping us in our tracks. Displeasure registered on his face when he took in the sight of Henry with his arm around me. I gently extricated myself from his friend’s grasp.
“The printer wouldn’t work.” I waved the letter at him.
“For thirty minutes?” he snapped.
I frowned at his tone. I thought we were past him talking to me like that. “Yes,” I snapped back. “For thirty minutes. I don’t do printers. Luckily Henry came along and fixed it.”
Caine’s eyes narrowed as they swung back to his friend, who stood watching us carefully. “Oh, did he?”
Henry raised an eyebrow at the predatory tone. “Do you have a problem with that?”
Instead of answering his question, Caine continued to glare at him. “I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
They stared at each other for a few seconds and then Henry said to me, “Always a pleasure, Lexie.”
I smiled at him, refusing to be cowed by Caine’s temper. “Henry,” I murmured, and gave him a little wave as he left.
“My office,” Caine bit out. “Now.”
Scowling at his back, I followed him inside and shut the door. “What is your problem?”
He whipped around, his face like granite. “My problem? My problem?”
“Well, mine isn’t that I have a hearing problem,” I huffed. “No need to repeat yourself.”
“Alexa,” he warned.
“Don’t you ‘Alexa’ me.” My hands flew to my hips. “I was going about my job minding my own business when suddenly I found myself hurtled back into the past where my boss talks to me like I’m garbage under his shoe.”
“And I stepped out of my office to find out why my PA wasn’t answering my calls to discover it was because she was too busy flirting with my best friend, who had his hands all over her.”
I froze at the realization that Caine was still jealous.
Exultation rushed through me and it took all of my self-control not to grin in triumph. Caine was still jealous of Henry and me? Even though there was nothing going on between us. That had to signify something, right? A person wasn’t jealous and possessive over someone he didn’t care about. Right?
“There’s nothing between me and Henry,” I assured him. “He flirts. It’s meaningless.”
Caine glowered. “You don’t need to flirt back.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were. And I don’t want you to do it again.”
I took a tentative step toward him. “I would never do anything to encourage your best frien
d, Caine. You must know that.”
Regret instantly flashed in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t …” He shrugged. “It’s just … I just … Not Henry, okay?”
Sensing how important it was for him to hear the words, I nodded. “I won’t flirt with Henry. I promise.”
Appearing altogether uncomfortable with the whole thing now, Caine gave me a sharp nod and reached for his phone, avoiding eye contact. “I’d better go meet him.”
Catching Caine in a vulnerable moment was surprising, but it gave me that hope about our no-strings messed-up-affair. I also thought it was an opportunity to clear up something. “Caine?”
“Hmm?”
“I know this is just sex …”
He stiffened at the sudden turn in conversation and glanced over his shoulder at me. “Alexa—”
“But maybe we should discuss if this affair is exclusive or not.”
“Exclusive.” His voice was terse, like he was pissed I’d even had to ask. And then it seemed to occur to him that he’d answered the question emotionally. “I’ll see you after lunch,” he muttered, and strode past me.
I jumped at the sound of his office door slamming shut behind him.
How was I supposed to interpret that? On the one hand his seeming possessiveness could be construed as a step forward to him admitting that he had feelings for me. On the other hand, he’d raced out of here like I’d suggested we wear a vial of each other’s blood around our necks.
Having an affair with Caine Carraway was not only deliciously physically exhausting, but not so deliciously emotionally exhausting too.
That night my uncertainty won.
Caine didn’t come to me after the gala. In fact, I had no word from him at all that night or the next morning.
I did not have a good feeling about that.
“Go get him.” Effie nodded at Caine’s door.
I grimaced. “He’s going to be pissed I just showed up like this.”
And by “like this” I meant it was Saturday afternoon and I’d decided I was done playing this Caine’s way. We weren’t getting anywhere playing the game by his rules, so I’d decided to start acting like a grown woman. If I wanted to see Caine, there was nothing to stop me from going to see him. I didn’t have to work around his schedule. No, sirree, I did not.