“An inheritance dispute.” I laughed bitterly. “He hired a hit man to kill me because of money.” I glanced over at my father. “Money. It’s so fucking toxic.”
“Vernon Holts isn’t a hit man,” Tailor informed us. I stared at him in confusion. “He claims he met Holland in a bar one night and he bragged to Holland about his assault offenses and his skill with knives. Holland offered Holts a hundred grand to take you out.”
“But Holland didn’t do any research on this guy.” Garry shook his head in disgust. “Holts’s record show he’s had three restraining orders against him in the past six years from women he harassed. Talking to him …” His eyes were grave on me. “He admits Holland asked him to stop after the first attack failed. Holts refused. It appears the money became secondary to catching his prey.”
“He became fixated on Alexa,” Caine’s voice growled from above me.
“We believe so.” Tailor nodded. “Holts has been very forthcoming. He admits to following Alexa from the hospital to Mr. Carraway’s apartment and staking out the property ever since. With his statement and your grandfather’s, the Boston PD should be able to get a warrant to arrest Matthew Holland while they investigate.”
“Whether they find enough evidence against him to substantiate Holts’s claims is another thing,” Caine added impatiently.
I froze at the thought, realizing what he meant. “Matthew gets away with this if they can’t find physical evidence to connect him to it?”
“It’s possible,” Garry said, his voice filled with regret. “However, Holts has admitted guilt. We’re transferring him to Boston, and the officers on the case there will be taking over.”
I nodded, dazed. “Thank you for your help.”
When they were gone, Caine rounded the bed to grip my arms. “Alexa, this is all going to be all right.”
I scoffed. “How? It’s like watching a shitty movie and I’m stuck to the chair and the remote is all the way across the room.” I leaned into him slightly. “My half brother hired a crazy ex-con to kill me. Do you know how insane that is?”
“Yes, I do.” His eyes blazed with anger. “I know the lengths people are willing to go to for money. I’ve been a victim to it, and a victim for it. You’re in a room with two other people who have as well.”
“This is why I didn’t want it,” I said, my voice hoarse.
“Alexa, I’m sorry,” Grandpa said.
I looked over Caine’s shoulder to him. “I know you never meant anything … I know you were just trying to make up for … but take me out of your will immediately. Promise me.”
Tears bright in his eyes, he nodded his agreement. “I’m so sorry I did this.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t take that on.”
“She’s right,” Caine said. “You had her best interests at heart. Matthew and Holts are the ones to blame here.”
I could tell Grandpa wasn’t quite convinced, the guilt still visible in his eyes, but he nodded gratefully at Caine.
“The sins of the father,” Dad suddenly said, his voice quiet, haunted.
We all looked at him.
He seemed wrecked. “Some of us are destined to repeat our parents’ mistakes.”
“Alistair,” Grandpa said sharply. “You made your mistakes, big fucking mistakes, but you did not deliberately attempt to do something so—”
“A woman died anyway.”
The muscles in Caine’s jaw twitched as he stared at my father like he was staring into hell.
“Caine,” I whispered uncertainly, my heart breaking for him.
“I won’t apologize.” My father met Caine’s hard gaze. “Because I know that’s not what you want from me. What you want I can never give. I … I wish that I could.”
The answering silence was so sharp and painful I almost couldn’t breathe in it.
Then … Caine gave my father this almost imperceptible little nod.
My father, on the verge of tears, looked toward me. “I’m going to leave you two alone, but I imagine we’ll see each other soon. I am so sorry this happened to you, Alexa.”
Somehow I managed to speak around the strangled feeling in my throat. “Thanks for being there today.”
He gave me a sad smile. “Your mother would have killed me if I let anything happen to you.”
“Yeah?”
He seemed surprised by the uncertainty in my question. “Yes. You know she missed you every day.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them and I buried my chin in my shoulder in an attempt to hide my reaction. Caine, however, was having none of that. His strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me so close I had no option but to wrap my arms around him. Burying my face in his chest, I let the sobs rise from my belly, and I cried for everything. For Caine, for our parents, for Matthew and Vernon’s attack, and for the realization that sometimes love really could be too broken to fix, and that you couldn’t get a happily ever after with everyone.
But as Caine kissed my hair and whispered soothing, loving words in my ears, I was assuaged by the knowledge that I didn’t need a happily ever after with everyone … just with someone.
“I love you,” I choked out against his warm chest.
In answer, Caine gently pulled me away, just far enough so he could look into my face. I was tearstained, swollen-faced, and exhausted. I was a mess. But he stared at me as if I were the only person in the room, and as if I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His voice was gruff as he confessed, “I love you too.”
My arms tightened in reflex around him, and a renewed determination pulsed into my veins. “Let’s go home so we can rest. We’ve got a couple of bastards to deal with who need a lesson in manners.”
Amusement curled the corners of Caine’s mouth. “There she is,” he murmured in satisfaction.
CHAPTER 32
It felt like hours before we were allowed to go home. Once we set foot in Boston we were hustled to the police station, where we had to answer all the same questions all over again. By the time a cab dropped us off at Caine’s apartment, I was deadweight.
Caine practically carried me upstairs to his bed. When I flopped down on it he wearily but patiently set about taking off my boots and jeans. I managed to shrug out of my jacket and throw it on the floor while Caine jerked the covers down so I could slide my legs under. The last thing I remembered was Caine getting in beside me and gently pulling me into his arms.
The next morning the sunlight peeked in through the blinds and woke me up. I was sprawled across Caine, unconsciously uncaring of my injury, my head resting on his bare stomach.
My arm was draped across his upper chest and shoulder, and his fingers were drawing little soothing circles on my right biceps.
“You’re awake,” I said, the words coming out croaky.
His other hand slid down my back to my hip. “Yeah.”
Lifting myself off him long enough to look at him, I assessed him carefully. Having heard it in his voice, I wasn’t surprised to see the wariness in his expression. My stomach flipped uneasily. “Please don’t.”
He squeezed my hip, understanding without having to ask. “I’m not. I just want to make sure you understand what you’re getting into here with me.”
“I’m getting what I deserve,” I said, and I meant every word. “And so are you.”
Caine moved slowly, easing me onto my back so he could brace himself over me. His gaze moved over my face, and every feeling he had for me blazed in his eyes. It moved me so much I was breathless.
“Don’t you get it?” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “I’ve never met anyone like you before. There’s no one like you. I keep waiting to not feel like this, because there are times I can’t bear it. To care this much. To worry about you day in and day out, even before the attack. I love you so fucking much. I sometimes … I feel consumed by it. Griff and Don called me as soon as you left the building yesterday, and I felt it. That panic. Like the panic I felt when you went down in my arms and I
saw the blood. I felt like I was going to come apart at the seams. I didn’t know how I was going to survive it if something happened to you.”
“Caine,” I whispered, overwhelmed by his confession, but relieved too. I was relieved to know that I wasn’t the only one in this who felt so deeply, so strongly.
“I got back to the apartment, I saw your note, and I called everyone I could think of that could help me get a private flight to Connecticut because I was terrified of what might happen to you. But also because”—his voice grew even more hoarse—“when you asked me to stay away from you in your note, it finally hit me. You meant it. You weren’t going to try anymore. I’d run out of chances, and I realized that the night before would be the last time I ever saw you. And I couldn’t … The whole time on that plane I … I kept thinking to myself if I could just get to you I would tell you I loved you and I’d get to keep you. I’m that selfish.”
“You’re not selfish.”
“I am … and every morning I’m going to wake up feeling like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m cheating somehow. Like I’ve stolen something.”
I reached up to smooth away his frown lines. “No more talking about how you don’t deserve me.”
“But I don’t.”
It didn’t take a psychologist to realize that Caine’s fears about his self-worth came from abandonment, his shame at what his ambition had led him to do, and the women who had used him. He was a complex mix of confidence and insecurities. I didn’t know if he could ever work through those insecurities, but I was going to do my best to help him try.
“I also don’t want to make the same mistakes my father made.”
“What do you mean?”
“He loved my mother beyond anything else. He loved her so damn much he had her wrapped up tight and protected in his world. He loved her so much he couldn’t see past it to the fact that the woman he loved was desperate to be free. She wanted more. She wanted adventure.”
Light dawned.
Finally I got to the real crux of his problem. Cupping his face in my hands, I poured every ounce of feeling into what I was about to say so that he would never doubt my words. “I am not your mother. I’m not looking for something else from life. I’m not looking for more. I’m not looking for a great adventure. I’m not looking, because I found it. You are my more. You are my great adventure.”
Caine stared at me in wonder. “I can’t believe that after everything I put you through you’re still here.”
“You came for me,” I whispered, trying not to get choked up again. “Even though it meant facing my father, you followed me to protect me. That meant everything to me. You saved my life.”
His own eyes were bright with emotion and his voice was hoarse when he vowed, “I will always protect you.”
“No fair,” I breathed heavily against the love and desire now pulsing through my body. “We can’t have sex yet until this stupid wound is healed, and I really feel like this is one of those moments where intense sex is applicable.”
“Anticipation is everything.” He laughed, relaxing onto his back and pulling me into his side. “Those first weeks working with you were the best foreplay of my life. By the time I got you naked on my desk, I was harder than I’ve ever been.”
I laughed. “That was really great sex.”
“It was.”
“I’ll miss that desk.”
Caine tensed. “What do you mean?”
I soothed him, stroking my hand over his abs. “If we’re in a serious, committed relationship now, there’s no way I’m working for you. I’ll need to find another job.”
“But no more Paris?”
I pressed a sweet kiss to his stomach. “No more Paris.” I sighed. “I have some e-mailing to do.”
“We’ve both got a lot to do … so let’s just enjoy the next thirty minutes of peace and quiet.”
I snuggled into him. “Now, that I can do quite happily.”
To say the Holland family was destroyed by Matthew Holland’s arrest was an understatement. My defense lawyers were trying to build a case against my half brother while he was out on bail. He’d been bailed out by his mother’s family. They all firmly believed his wails of denial, but my grandfather, although refusing to comment in the media, had taken my side and cut him out of his life and his will. My grandmother was a harder nut to crack. Grandpa said she believed him when he said Matthew had bribed Grandpa’s attorney to find out about changes to his will, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe he was capable of something so despicable as trying to murder me.
The jury was out for her until hard evidence was found against Matthew.
Unfortunately there was no physical evidence yet to link him to the case, but the police were working on it. He hadn’t paid Holts in cash but in jewelry, so they were trying to link the pieces that were pawned by Holts to Matthew or anybody connected to him.
I truly believed Matthew Holland was a spoiled idiot who was living so far up his own ass in fantasyland that he’d impetuously hired a man to get rid of the person standing in his way to financial wealth beyond his wildest dreams. I had to wonder if he hadn’t thought of me as a person until Holts’s attack went awry, and then was forced to see me, to see what he had done. Stupid, naive, and quickly terrified, he’d lost control of Holts and the entire scheme. I didn’t think I had anything to worry about regarding my future safety around Matthew.
Holts, however, was a different deal altogether. I felt so much safer knowing Vernon Holts was in prison and, if my lawyers had anything to say about it, would be going away for a long time. That knowledge allowed me to concentrate on starting to put the pieces of my new life together. I contacted Renée and Antoine to tell them I wouldn’t be accepting the job. I apologized for messing them around, and they were incredibly understanding about the whole thing.
I’d put feelers out looking for a job in Boston in events management. The last few weeks hadn’t brought up anything that sounded appealing financially, and I was beginning to wonder if this career change meant starting from the ground up again.
By week three Caine suggested what Charlie the Red Sox date had suggested months ago—that I start my own events planning company. The idea of starting my own company, however, didn’t exhilarate me like it did Caine. All I could imagine was constantly bringing my work home with me, and I didn’t want that. I understood work spilled into personal life, but I didn’t want my whole world to revolve around my business. That wasn’t me. And I couldn’t imagine Caine and I would ever see much of each other if we were both running our own companies.
When I said that to him he was quick to agree that I should look at joining someone else’s company. To help me along he was using his own connections to see if there were any open positions in that industry. Meanwhile, his offer for me to remain working with him if I couldn’t find anything was on the table.
What hadn’t been on the table was sex.
By week six into my recovery, although weighed down by the stress of the case against Matthew and Holts, and finding a new job, I was feeling much better physically.
Something I kept trying to explain to Caine.
Although he insisted that I stay at his apartment throughout my recovery, he was very careful with me. I was treated to delicious kisses and gentle caresses but nothing more. After the kissing he’d release me and whisper, “Soon,” in my ear.
Well, I was getting sick of “soon.” I wanted now. When I’d attempted to push the subject, he got stern with me and told me to be patient, that it was important I made a full recovery.
Of course Caine should have realized by now that telling me what to do outside of the office was never a good idea. My answer was to head home to my apartment and get settled in. I had to admit I’d missed my place. I loved Caine’s but only because it was where he was, and I loved his view. Nothing beat his view. Or the fact that Effie was just down the hall.
But my place was
home too.
And I was recovered, so it was time to be home. I texted Caine while he was at work.
Just wanted to let you know I’ve gone home to my apartment. It’s time to get back into the swing of things. Thanks for everything, Roomie. Love you.
Half an hour later he replied.
Have I told you lately how stubborn you are? Fine. I’ll come over after work.
He just can’t stay away. I grinned, giddy at his response, and wondered if that feeling would ever go away.
I was less giddy when he showed up late that evening, exhausted by a day trip to New York, and crashed on my bed. I stared down at him feeling a mixture of tenderness and disappointment. Tonight was supposed to be the night we finally had sex after all these weeks. I didn’t know about Caine, but I was past the point of frustration.
He looked so tired, though. I stroked his hair back from his face and wondered if we could keep up our pattern of working around his career. We did a good job of making time for each other—Caine did a wonderful job of making sure he spent time with me in spite of his busy schedule. I had my fingers crossed we’d never lose that consideration for each other.
And sex … well, we’d just have to be creative.
I smiled in anticipation as I walked around to my side of the bed and set my alarm to low so that it would wake me but hopefully not Caine. I had a far more pleasurable plan of waking for him …
Naked from top to toe, I straddled Caine while he still lay in dreamland. It was early in the morning, the sun had just come up, and I intended to make something else come up to say hello. I grinned to myself, desire tingling between my legs, as I gently pushed the hem of Caine’s T-shirt up to reveal his hard abs.
I stroked his skin lightly with my fingertips and watched his stomach jerk. I pushed the shirt up as far as I could and bent over to lick his nipple. From there I licked the other, scraping my teeth lightly over it, before moving downward, brushing my lips over his skin, inhaling the familiar scent of him, tasting him.