Finally, she slumped against him. And, since she didn’t argue anymore, he took that as her agreement. “My car is a couple of blocks away,” he said gently. “In the garage of my building.”
Kelly tottered beside him for half a block before her knees began to buckle. So, seeing no other available means of getting her to his car, Caleb swung her up into his arms and carried her the rest of the way.
He didn’t like it. It made him feel strange—as if the gesture were too clichéd, too heroic, too something. It didn’t suit him at all. The same way he’d felt making the call to Wes earlier that day.
But Kelly couldn’t walk anymore, and he had to get her to his car somehow. So he tried not to think too much about it.
Her body was soft and substantial in his arms. She was basically a dead weight—not trying to support herself or present a pretty picture. It made him feel uncomfortable. His chest felt too heavy and too tight all at once.
But his mind was whirling. There was a mystery here. So many unanswered questions.
After getting her into his car, he drove to his house outside of the city, since that would be less visible than his downtown apartment. Kelly was in and out of consciousness, but Caleb kept trying to keep her awake.
When he was stopped at a light, he glanced over and saw that her eyes were closed. So he picked up his phone and texted out a brief message to a guy he used to investigate things he didn’t want listed on the Vendella company books.
Find out more information about Kelly Watson. Focus on men she’s been in relationships with.
Kelly’s eyes were still closed when he put his phone back down and accelerated as the light turned green.
His mind was whirling with questions and possibilities.
He didn’t fully trust Kelly. He didn’t fully trust anyone. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
She obviously needed his help, and he liked that. But he needed to know her story in order to do anything about it.
When there were things he didn’t know, his world would start to spin out of control. And when things were out of control, he would have to resort to methods that were distasteful, unpleasant, in order to gain the upper hand.
He preferred not to have to do so.
He would if he had to, though. It was the reason he was sitting here now. He was willing to do what other men couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
And he never let weaker qualities like guilt or fear or morality get in his way.
Chapter 4
Kelly hadn’t intended to get quite so concussed.
The blow she’d taken to the head had been a bit harder than she had discussed with Jack Martin, the private investigator her mother had been working with. She’d contacted Jack that morning about what she needed to happen this evening. It was necessary for her to get roughed up a little, or else Caleb would never have believed the attack was real. But Kelly had been expecting a little knock on the head. Her concussion was supposed to be an act.
She hadn’t had to fake much of anything.
When her head had collided violently with the side of her car, Kelly had been temporarily dazed—then dizzy and disoriented. She had nearly vomited for real, right on Caleb’s shiny black shoes.
The headache that followed had almost leveled her.
So, she couldn’t have resisted much, even if she’d wanted to, when Caleb picked her up to carry her in his arms.
It was what she needed, what she’d been hoping for, but it was almost unbearable. To be totally dependent on someone—on Caleb Marshall—even for the short walk to his car. She’d learned a long time ago not to depend on anyone, even people she should be able to trust.
It might have been the worst part of the entire evening, being gently cradled in Caleb’s arms.
Except for the real concussion, however, everything was going according to plan. She’d needed a shortcut to get in closer proximity to Caleb and get beyond the superficial sexual attraction. No matter how much of an arrogant ass he was, he was also a man. And men like him wanted to be warriors, to feel like heroes.
So she’d given him a battle to rush into.
Shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat, Kelly wanted to be proud of herself. Wanted to congratulate herself on a job well done. Caleb had played right into her hands. Not because he was an idiot or easily duped, but because she knew men well enough to plan effective tactics.
She wanted to be proud, but she couldn’t. Even being in the same car as Caleb was akin to torture. He still looked, felt, smelled like someone she wanted, no matter what her rational mind kept telling her. But she used her old mental strategy to push all of what she felt for him into a tight little knot in her heart, hiding it behind her walls along with her real self, keeping it safe and out of sight.
She shielded the parts of her soul that could still be hurt and made herself a weapon. The only weapon she had.
As she slumped beside Caleb in his car, she forced herself to focus on her pounding head and let her body become perfectly limp, noticing that her neckline was riding low and that her hair was slipping out of her braid.
All of that was good. All of that was necessary.
She was starting to rehearse her next steps when she felt her belly start to churn in a frightening way.
She straightened her back a little and took long, deep breaths—praying that she wouldn’t throw up in the lush interior of Caleb’s Mercedes. It might drive home the reality of her weakness, but it wasn’t exactly sexy.
“You okay?” he asked softly, his eyes darting over to her.
She’d had her eyes closed for most of the drive, but now she looked over at his handsome face in the dim light. “Yeah,” she breathed, hoping she was speaking the truth.
“You need me to pull over?”
“No,” she replied weakly, relieved when the wave of nausea passed. “I’m fine.”
He shook his head, as if he were annoyed by something.
She didn’t know what it was, but it angered her that anything so minor she might have done would have annoyed him. Him. As if he had a right to be annoyed with anyone else in the world.
When Caleb pulled up in front of a big house on sprawling grounds, she let him help her out of the car. He’d taken her to his palatial estate outside the city instead of to his downtown apartment, but she didn’t know why he’d made the choice.
She didn’t struggle when he swung her up once more in his arms. She even let her head loll against his shoulder, although the pleasant, male scent of him was as troubling as any blow to the head.
She heard him talking to someone, but by this time she was having trouble focusing on anything at all. Caleb said something about a doctor and she didn’t object.
The doctor would only verify that she had indeed been injured.
Caleb carried her into a guest room, laid her down on a bed, and pulled off her shoes.
But Kelly groggily rolled away from him when she felt his hands on her dress. “No.”
Her reluctance was not part of the plan, but there was no way she could let him undress her like this, not when she was so completely helpless.
Caleb pulled his hand away. “That dress can’t be comfortable.”
“It’s fine,” she mumbled. “I’m fine.”
She could barely keep her eyes open, but—through the slits between her mostly closed eyelids—she saw Caleb shake his head again in frustration and then leave her to the mercy of a woman who must be a housekeeper.
Soon the doctor came and left, pronouncing her with a mild concussion—nothing serious—and saying she should be woken up a few times during the night to make sure she was all right and that she should rest for the next couple of days. Next, the housekeeper came in with a T-shirt for Kelly to wear instead of her dress. And then finally, blessedly, she was allowed to sleep.
She needed her wits about her to face Caleb again, and that wasn’t going to be possible until she got some sleep.
—
She slept better
than she would have expected, considering the circumstances, had woken only when the housekeeper came in to check on her every couple of hours. It was starting to get light outside the next morning when the door opened again, and the woman came in with a tray.
As Kelly shifted under the thick, soft covers and started to wake up, her first conscious thought was that she still had a raging headache.
Her second thought was that there must be coffee on that tray.
She mumbled something incoherent when the room got suddenly lighter. Blinking, she realized that the housekeeper had pulled open the curtains.
“I’m sorry, miss. Would you rather I keep them closed?”
“No.” Kelly was expecting Caleb at any minute, and she’d be far more prepared for the conversation if fully awake. “It’s fine.”
The woman smiled in her direction, poured Kelly a cup of the fragrant coffee, and brought it over to set it on the nightstand. “Mr. Marshall said he wanted to talk to you for a few minutes before he leaves for work.”
Of course he did. That was why Kelly was getting woken up like this.
Kelly propped herself into a sitting position against her thick pillows. “That’s fine. I know he needs to leave early. He has to work pretty hard, I guess,” she said, partly to make conversation and partly to see if the housekeeper had a tendency to gossip.
Shaking her head disapprovingly, the woman said, “He works every day, the stubborn boy. Even Sundays. I tell him to get more rest and take some time to restore himself, but he just smiles and ignores me. Works himself into a stupor. Poor dear.”
Kelly tried not to snort at anyone calling Caleb Marshall a poor dear. “Thank you,” she said, gesturing to the mug she was holding. “I’m not used to this kind of treatment.”
The housekeeper smiled. “Not many of us are.” She studied Kelly intently, in a way that Kelly found a little unsettling. “That bruise isn’t as bad as I thought.”
Kelly raised her fingers to the bruise on her cheekbone. She’d almost forgotten about it. A reminder of how many things could go wrong.
Smiling sympathetically, the housekeeper went on. “Poor thing. You have had a rough time, haven’t you?”
After blinking in surprise at what appeared to be genuine kindness from this woman who was a stranger to her, Kelly suppressed an ironic smile. The housekeeper was like a character from a schmaltzy novel. All she needed was some knitting and a cat.
“You should visit the dog.”
Kelly blinked again. “The dog?”
“The shepherd,” the woman explained. “Ralph. Mr. Marshall’s dog. He hangs out in the stables most of the time during the day. Dogs put things in perspective.”
Kelly managed to smile and thank the woman for this bizarre invitation. Even if it were true, Kelly couldn’t risk putting things into perspective, or her whole revenge plan might tumble down around her feet.
The woman took a step over and patted Kelly’s hand, which was lying on the thick coverlet. “Mr. Marshall will be here soon. I’m Breah. Just let me know if you need anything. A long rest will be good for you. You look too worn out. Take a walk. Take a nap. And don’t forget to visit the dog.”
When Breah left, Kelly managed to drink most of her cup of coffee. She was feeling pretty crappy, but at least the nausea and dizziness seemed to have passed.
It would be wise to make herself look somewhat appealing when Caleb stopped by.
No way could she be sexy or beautiful this morning, but a wan, rumpled sleepiness could have its own allure.
She sat up all the way and decided her head could stand a quick trip to the bathroom. So she stumbled over to the adjoining bathroom, used it as quickly as she could, then washed her hands and splashed some water on her face.
Bringing her hands up, she worked some on her hair. It was still in the braid she’d been wearing last night, so she patted down the lumps and stray frizzes, and then pulled a few more strands loose, softening her face. The slight bruise under her eye emphasized her pale skin and made her appear more wounded and helpless.
The oversized T-shirt she wore swallowed her body, but there was nothing to do about that now.
When she returned to the bed, she arranged the covers so they looked even more mussed. And then she poured herself another cup of coffee.
She’d just arranged herself as best she could, pulling the large T-shirt to one side to expose as much of her shoulder as she could and efficiently rubbing her nipples until they peaked—she did so under the covers in case there was a security camera somewhere in the room—when there was a light tap on the door.
“What?” she called out. She was getting nervous, so her voice hadn’t sounded very welcoming. In fact, it sounded rather grumpy.
The door opened, and Caleb appeared in the doorway, dressed in a charcoal gray suit with black dress shirt and tie. His eyebrows lifted as he greeted her dryly, “Good morning to you too.”
“Sorry. Good morning. Thank you for your help last night.” She tried to focus on her strategy, but her body had taken an immediate interest in his presence, which was very distracting. And very upsetting.
His lips quirked in an appealing expression of dry amusement. “You’re welcome.”
Kelly let out a deep sigh, noticing how Caleb’s eyes lingered first on her bare neck and shoulder, and then lower, where her nipples were poking out through the thin cotton of the shirt. After a pause, she said, “I really do appreciate your help, Caleb. But I don’t want you to ask me any more questions. My problems are my own, and I don’t want anyone else dragged into them.”
“And if I want to be dragged into them?”
“That’s too bad. I had no choice but to accept your help last night, but still, that doesn’t mean we’re anything but strangers.”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed, as if she had surprised him. “I guess that’s true. How are you feeling?”
She shrugged. “Good enough. I still have a headache.”
“Well, stay here and take the day to recover,” he told her, using a textured, persuasive voice that would be irresistible to most women.
Even Kelly had to fight to resist. “I can recover on my own. If you’ll just get me to my car—”
He shook his head in quiet exasperation. “I’m not going to take you to your car. There’s no reason for you to run off before you’re fit to do so. The doctor said you needed complete rest today, and maybe tomorrow too. You should stay here. I’m not going to tie you up and torture you in the basement.” His eyes blazed hot briefly. “Unless you ask very nicely.”
The sexiness was probably second nature for him. He was curious about her now—and liked playing the hero—but she was still just a sexual object to him.
It was good. It was the only advantage she had in this room, and it didn’t matter that his words had evoked a disturbing series of erotic images. Of Caleb doing things to her—things she still wanted him to do.
She groaned softly and settled her head against the pillow. Arching her back slightly, she stretched her body in a way that tightened the shirt against her breasts. She noticed another flare—this one less obvious, more real—ignite in his eyes. “I can’t even think about sex right now,” she lied. “So don’t be hoping to live out some sort of twisted fantasy. I’ll stay here for a little while, until I’m feeling better. But then I’m going to leave.”
“But—”
“We’re strangers. We’re strangers. Why are you insisting on helping me?”
“Out of the goodness of my heart?” The upward lilt at the end made the words an ironic question.
She suppressed a quick laugh at the wry humor, hating herself for thinking he was funny.
“At least stay here today,” he said after a moment. “You’re not in any shape to drive, and you’re safer here than anywhere else.”
“Safer?”
Narrowing his eyes, he said slowly, “My understanding was that someone came after you last night. I assume they’re still after you.”
> That was exactly what he was supposed to think. “Caleb—”
“Kelly, just stay. At least until I get back.”
“Maybe.”
He reached over and put a hand on her shoulder, and Kelly almost jerked away from the touch of his warm hand. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll be here when I get back.”
He was really laying it on thick. Pulling out a whole armory of persuasive intensity and cool charisma in order to keep her where he wanted her.
And, if she hadn’t kept reminding herself who and what he really was, it would have worked on her.
Master of manipulation. Lying bastard.
But Kelly smiled at him. “I’m not promising anything.”
“You’ll be here.” He sounded smug, absolutely confident that she would do what he wanted her to do. “In the meantime, make yourself at home.”
“I’m not here on vacation. And I’m not planning to raid the refrigerator or have a long soak in your hot tub.”
“Why not?” He gave her a decidedly flirtatious glance over his shoulder. “You’re welcome to raid the wine cellar too, although you might wait until the headache is gone. The tub in this suite should be decent, but the best one is in the master bath. You’re welcome to use it if you’d like.” He cocked an eyebrow. “But I warn you, it has very powerful jets.”
Kelly saw his face blurring in front of her eyes as she processed the fact that they were actually flirting. But she made herself hide it and playfully threw one of the throw pillows from the bed in his direction as he started to leave the room.
It bounced off the back of his shoulder before it fell to the floor.
She could hear his chuckle as he moved down the hallway. Warm, husky, sensual.
Her whole body tightened in response to the sound of it, which just made her hate him even more.
—
She stayed in bed for a few more hours. Once her headache was mostly gone, she got up, took a shower, and ate some of the lunch that had been carried up to her room.
Her clothes from the night before had been freshly laundered, and the housekeeper found her a pair of more comfortable shoes, so she wouldn’t have to go around in her heels. So she got dressed, clipped her hair up into a heavy knot, and went out to explore the estate.