Light pricked at my eyelids in an unwelcome sensation as I stirred to wakefulness. I groaned, turning my head on the squishy pillow that was much softer than my own.

Where was I?

The night before suddenly hit me in image after image, memory after memory, and my eyes popped open. The fog cleared from them as I took in Caine’s bedroom. My hair rustled on his pillow as I looked at him.

He lay on his stomach, facing toward me in sleep.

A little sigh of happiness escaped me at the sight of his face. He looked so peaceful and relaxed.

A smile tugged at my lips.

More like he was exhausted.

True to his vow, Caine had kept us up practically all night and had given me a record-breaking six orgasms.

I was spent.

I was—I looked past him to the clock radio—up way too early.

We’d only fallen asleep a few hours ago.

My instinct was to roll into Caine and fall back asleep curled up next to him. However, I wasn’t sure it was wise—Caine and I didn’t wake up together often. If we did Caine got us up out of bed quickly because he had work to do. Mostly, though, I woke up and Caine was gone. It would be so easy to let all my fears plague me up out of that bed and his apartment. But then we’d be back where were before, and after all the ups and downs we’d taken to get to this point, it would be a crying shame to let a little fear fuck it all up.

So instead of creeping out of Caine’s bed and treating him to his own medicine, I shimmied into him. I slid my arm over his back, rested my head on his shoulder, and closed my eyes.

“Lexie.”

The low voice rumbled in my ear, eased its way into my consciousness, and gently woke me.

“Baby,” Caine whispered.

I smiled.

It wasn’t the most original endearment in the world, but I had to admit to feeling a thrill shoot through me every time he called me “baby.”

He chuckled. “I can see that smile of yours, so I know you’re awake.”

With lazy slowness I opened my eyes.

Caine’s face hovered above mine, amusement visible in the little crinkles around his eyes. “Good morning.”

I groaned. “Why is it morning? We only went to sleep a few hours ago.”

His lips twitched at my grumpiness. “I’m well aware.”

I closed my eyes at his masculine satisfaction. “You can thump on your chest with smug pride later. For now let me sleep.”

“I would.” He squeezed my waist. “But Effie’s downstairs and she’s making us breakfast.”

“What?” I slammed upright and Caine pulled back just in time before my forehead cracked against his. I noted he was wearing a T-shirt and sweatpants. “How long have you been awake?”

“Since Effie let herself into the apartment and I had to move fast to stop her from coming in here.”

I blanched at the thought. “She has a key.”

He snorted. “It’s Effie—what do you think?”

“I think she has a key and a spare,” I muttered.

Caine’s eyes were bright with mirth and my grumpiness dissipated at the sight. “I thought you loved Effie.”

“I do.” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “I’d love her more, though, if she’d let me sleep a few more hours.”

“Her breakfast will make the tiredness worth it,” he promised, and grabbed my hand to gently haul me up. I winced and he instantly stopped. “You okay? Did I hurt you?”

Not exactly.

I slid gently off the bed. “I’m feeling a little sore, that’s all.”

He frowned, understanding. “Oh.”

Sensing where his thoughts had gone, I patted his arm in reassurance as I passed him. “It was worth every twinge, believe me.”

His arm shot out, sliding around my waist to stop me. I looked up at him in question. He still looked concerned. “You’re sure you’re okay? I got a little carried away last night.”

I grinned. I could still feel the throbbing between my legs as a reminder. “I know. I was there. And trust me … you can get carried away like that with me anytime.”

Caine’s hand tightened on my waist.

“Last night was amazing,” I insisted.

The tension leaked out of him and a smirk pulled at his lips. “Yeah, it was,” he agreed, his voice deep with satisfaction.

“Are you two kids coming down for breakfast or what?” Effie shouted from downstairs.

My eyes widened. “She has quite the pair of lungs on her for an old bird.”

Caine tapped his ear. “She also has superhuman hearing, so I’d cool it with the ‘old bird’ comments.”

“Right.” I pressed my lips together and looked around the room at my discarded clothes. An uncomfortable thought hit me. “I have nothing appropriate to wear.”

In answer Caine wandered into his walk-in. He came out a few seconds later and thrust a Red Sox T-shirt at me.

I stared at it, aghast. “A T-shirt. You want me to wear a T-shirt.”

With an impatient huff Caine rolled it up and then none too gently yanked it over my head. “It’s just Effie.”

Annoyed, I pushed my arms through the sleeves and jerked it down over my body. With my being tall, it only reached the tops of my thighs. I shot him a look. “Are you kidding me?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly pleased with himself. “It’s very sexy.”

Ignoring the familiar thrill that shot through me at his appreciative gaze, I retorted, “Yeah, and that would be fine if I were just having breakfast with you. But I’m not. I’m having breakfast with your pseudograndmother.”

“And she’s the least grandmotherly person I know.”

“Not true,” I argued. “She bakes and cooks.”

“Well, if that’s the qualification, every top male chef in the city is a grandmother.” He shrugged and moved past me. “Come on, I’m starving.”

“Don’t you have a pair of sweatpants I could borrow?”

He glanced back over his shoulder at me, his eyes hungrily roaming over my legs. “Nope.”

There was no freaking way I was going down to breakfast with Effie half-naked! Knowing exactly what his game was, I put my hands on my waist and cocked my hip. “Do you really want to chance getting turned on in Effie’s company?”

He stopped with a grunt and faced me with an arrogant quirk of his right eyebrow. “I’m a grown man, Lexie. As gorgeous as you are I think I can control my libido for a few hours.”

I tapped my chin in mocking retrospection. “I’m sure I’ve heard that somewhere before …”

“Lex—”

“But if you’re sure you’ll be fine …” I shrugged and lowered myself onto the fat armchair in the corner of the room. I slowly crossed my legs and the T-shirt rode up to the tops of my thighs, almost to crotch level. “I mean it’s just a little skin. And if I have to bend down”—I stood back up to demonstrate and the shirt rode up, revealing my ass in the high-cut panties—“it certainly won’t remind you of the way you bent me over your bed last night and had your wicked—”

“Fine,” Caine snapped, a telltale flush visible on his cheekbones. “I’ll find you some damn sweatpants.”

I grinned at his back as he wandered back into the walk-in. “A wise decision, Mr. Carraway.”

“Lexie, good to see you, sweetheart,” Effie greeted me warmly as I walked toward her wearing the Red Sox T-shirt and sweatpants that were held up at the waist with one of Caine’s ties. She wrapped her strong arms around me, enveloping me in her familiar sweet scent of vanilla and sugar.

“You too.” I gave her a squeeze and stepped back, my eyes automatically going to the dining table. It was covered with food. There were pancakes, maple syrup, eggs over easy, bacon, muffins …

My belly suddenly let out a hungry little rumble.

“Effie, this looks amazing as always.” Caine kissed her papery cheek and then immediately homed in on the table.

As he settled in at the head of it, I shot Effie an amused smile. “I guess I should learn to cook.”

She grinned back at me. “Somehow I think you’re doing just fine without it, but if you want a teacher I could show you some of my recipes.”

“I’d love that.” I followed her to the table and we settled at either side of Caine, across from each other. Feeling suddenly ravenous, I dug in with as much enthusiasm as Caine did. Effie’s pancakes practically melted in my mouth, they were so fluffy, her bacon was crisp and full of flavor, and her eggs were just how I liked them. I dipped my toast into egg yolk. “Your husband must have been a very happy man, Effie.”

She swallowed a piece of bacon and nodded, her eyes glinting. “Oh, very. We had a good life together. A great life.”

“You met at the theater, right?”

“There’s more to it than that.” She smiled mysteriously.

I was curious, but I didn’t want to intrude where I wasn’t welcome. “That sounds intriguing.”

Effie’s whole face lit up. “You want to hear it?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Caine chuckled at Effie’s delight as she leaned over her plate and began her story. “It was 1960 and I was about to turn twenty-three. I was playing Maria in West Side Story. I was also completely infatuated with my asshole of a director, Albert Reis. Of course I didn’t think he was an asshole at the time.” She gave me a girlish smile. “I was sunk deep in my crush, but Reis wasn’t interested. So, one night after the show when this handsome, wealthy industrialist from my hometown stopped by my dressing room to pay his regards, I agreed to go on a date with him. Nicky was fun and sweet and he was a real gentleman with me, but I took him for granted. I kept him on a string, all the while hoping the enigmatic and artistic Reis would finally pay me some attention.

“I forgot Nicky got wealthy for a reason. He was smart—a perceptive cookie, my Nicky. He realized I was infatuated with Reis and he broke things off with me.” She appeared sheepish as she remembered the moment. “He was really mad at me. Told me to go to hell. I was shaken up by it. I didn’t want to hurt him … but I didn’t realize until he went back to Boston and was in all the society papers for philandering around that I was shaken up because I actually had feelings for him.”

My breakfast forgotten, I rested my chin on my hand and whispered, “So, what did you do?”

“I found out when his next trip to New York was and I cornered him at his favorite restaurant. I told him I wanted him back.”

“That was brave.”

“Maybe. It was also fruitless. Nicky told me he wasn’t some toy I could just set aside and then pick up as soon as another girl reached for it.”

“Oh boy.”

“Exactly. I had to work my butt off to get him back. I made sure I was at all the same parties and I made certain sure that he knew I was there for him.”

I grinned. “You wore him down.”

Effie surprised me by shaking her head as she dimmed with regret. “I really hurt him. He’d fallen in love with me, you see, and I broke his heart. I’d lost his trust. He wasn’t sure of my affections anymore, and the fact that I was a damn good actress didn’t help him believe me when I said I was for real. Plus … I was never very good at making myself really vulnerable. So he doubted my sincerity.

“Anyway, he started dating this one girl in particular and, well … that hurt. A lot. They were together for only a few weeks, but everyone kept telling me how serious she was about him. One night we were at the same party and rumors met my ears that he was planning on proposing to this girl. Well, I couldn’t hide how I felt. I was so used to being able to turn on a smile even when I was sad, but not then. I had to get out of there. Our friends and acquaintances realized what was going on and it was a spectacle for them, you know. Word made it to Nicky about my reaction and he was concerned enough to come after me.” She rolled her eyes, as if mocking the drama that had played out between her and her late husband. “Finding me in floods of tears finally got through his thick noggin and he believed me when I told him I loved him.” Her grin was wicked. “Of course his passionate reaction to that news meant we had to get married, if you know what I mean.”

Caine groaned beside me. “Effie, a monkey would know what you mean. No sex talk. It’s disturbing.”

She just laughed. “Anyway, the moral of my story is that sometimes you’ve got to let yourself be vulnerable even when it’s the scariest thing in the world. You can reap the rewards—I’ll tell you that.” Her pointed look toward Caine did not go unmissed, and he braced himself.

I squirmed uncomfortably.

I knew Effie’s advice was well-meaning, but there was a time and a place to push the boundaries between me and Caine, and too much too soon would have him running in the opposite direction. Deciding to pretend I missed her point, I pushed my plate back. These breakfasts were the only real time I imagined Caine got to spend with Effie, especially with me taking up what little free time he had. I decided to give them privacy. “Well, I’m stuffed. I’m going to have a shower.”

Effie smiled gratefully at me and Caine’s own expression was warm, tender almost. It took everything within me to restrain myself from caressing his cheek as I passed him.

Slowly, Lexie. Slowly but surely, I reminded myself.

When I wandered back downstairs after my shower, the table was cleared and Effie was nowhere to be seen.

Caine approached me and I stilled at the predatory look in his eye. “Where’s Effie?”

“She had a book club meeting to get to. She told me to tell you she’ll see you soon.”

“Oka …” The word died on my lips as Caine drew to a stop in front of me and felt under the Red Sox T-shirt for his tie. He yanked on it and the sweatpants instantly began sliding down my hips. With satisfaction etched into his features, Caine forced the pants down my legs and then bent down to his haunches to pull them off. I stared at him, confused, as he stood back up.

“The T-shirt looks better on its own,” he explained.

His actions suggested I was sticking around the apartment for the day. “Aren’t you busy?”

“Probably, but let’s pretend I’m not.”

Delighted, I grinned up at him. “So you want to hang out? Like normal people?”

“Neither of us will ever be normal, but we can certainly hang out.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” He looked around his apartment. “I’ve never just … hung out before.”

“Hmm.” Sensing I needed to take control of the situation, I stepped past him and stared over at the TV corner. “We could watch a movie.” That was something that normal couples did. In fact, it sounded so normal I had butterflies of excitement fluttering around in my belly.

In answer Caine strode across the room and opened his DVD cabinet. “What do you feel like watching?”

I made my way over there and bent down beside him. Eyeing the movies, I felt overwhelmed not only by the choices but by the fact that this was happening. I was spending the day with Caine, dressed only in his T-shirt, and he was prioritizing me over work just as he had done last night. Surely that was huge. I bit my lip to contain my giddiness and began looking through his foreign movies.

After selecting one about World War II, Caine set up the movie and then flopped down on his sofa so he was stretched out along it on his side. My initial instinct was to gaze down at him uncertainly, as he’d never really invited casual affection before.

But I was over uncertainty.

I’d decided I was over that this morning and I was sticking to it.

Decision made, I curled up on my side in front of him and relaxed when his arm snaked around my waist to pull me closer.

For the first fifteen minutes of the movie I found it difficult to concentrate on anything but the fact that I was cuddling on the sofa watching a movie with Caine. My awareness of him was heightened even more than usual—his hard body pressed close to mine, the steady, slight rise and fall of his chest against my back, the clean fresh scent of his skin and the hint of his cologne …

Eventually, however, I relaxed completely and allowed the film to draw me in. I was enjoying the fraught story and the coziness of the situation, but was beginning to realize where the plot was going and what it would eventually lead to. Somewhat familiar with foreign movies, I knew they could be more sexually explicit than our homegrown fare, and I wondered how I’d deal with watching a sex scene with Caine when the two of us were still so hyperaware of each other.

Sure enough, a sex scene began and I found my breath catching at the highly sensual acts unfolding before us. Caine strained slightly behind me as the cries of pleasure filled the room while the hero put his mouth between the heroine’s legs.

Ripples of desire moved through me, shooting electric tingles between my own legs. My nipples hardened as I watched the lovemaking on-screen while surrounded by Caine.

Slowly I reached for his hand that rested on my hip and I drew it down over my thigh and back up under the T-shirt.

His breath hitched behind me as I guided his fingers underneath my panties; all the while my eyes were glued to the screen.

His erection pressed against me. “I thought you were sore,” he whispered, the words heavy with lust.

“It’s a good kind of sore,” I managed to whisper back.

In answer Caine rubbed his fingers over my clit.

Our breathing grew louder, shallower, as the couple on-screen fucked at the same time Caine’s magical touch took me toward orgasm. I cried out, coming around his fingers as the guy on-screen thrust into the heroine.

Quite abruptly I found myself on my back as Caine braced himself over me and yanked my panties off with rough need. I gasped, thrilled by the harsh lust hardening his features, and a renewed rush of desire swept over me as he shoved down his sweatpants enough to free himself.

And then he was inside me, pushing into me with a deep need that I matched as I lifted my hips against his thrusts. Lying beneath him, my fingers digging into his gorgeous ass as he moved inside me, I wondered at this madness between us, and if this base demand for each other would ever calm.

With a cry of satisfaction, Caine shuddered against me as he came.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his back, and felt that his T-shirt was damp from exertion.

He nuzzled my neck, pressing soft kisses there as his breathing returned to normal. When he pulled back, it was only to look at me; he made no move to remove himself. His gaze moved over my face, drinking me in. “Maybe we could stay like this forever.” His words were rumbly and deeply satisfied.

They made my inner muscles squeeze his cock and I saw he felt it in the flutter of his dark lashes and in the softening of his mouth.

“I don’t think we could have much interaction with other people if we stayed like this.” On second thought … “So it’s not actually a bad idea.”

Caine was amused. “I definitely like the sound of that. Although we would need to eat. I don’t feel comfortable asking Effie to bring us food while we’re like this.”

I giggled. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. We could ask my friend Rachel. Nothing fazes her.”

“I’m pretty sure this would faze her.”

“Oh no, it really wouldn’t. Rachel has no boundaries. This is a woman who once called a ten-year-old an asshole. To his face. In front of his mother.”

Caine gave a bark of laughter. “A ten-year-old?”

“To be fair he was acting like an asshole.”

Shaking with amusement, Caine wrapped his arms around me so that when he moved back onto his side he was taking me with him. “Is Rachel looking for a job? I’m always open to hiring no-bullshitters.”

“I know.” I pressed my face into his warm chest. “You hired me.”

His hand slid over my naked bottom and squeezed me gently. “I had other motives for hiring you.”

Surprised, I arched my neck so I could look into his eyes. “Are you saying you hired me because you were attracted to me?”

“I didn’t think so at the time,” he admitted, looking boyishly rueful. “But looking back on it, yeah. When you walked onto the photo shoot—before you told me who you were and all that shit went down—I took one look at you and decided I was going to fuck you.”

I laughed and hit his chest playfully. “How romantic of you. And presumptuous.”

He shrugged, his own grin teasing. “Presumptuous, huh?”

I thought about the fact that he was still inside me and I sighed in defeat. “You are so arrogant.”

“Pot, meet Kettle.”

Shocked that he thought so, I whispered, “I’m not arrogant.”

“Baby, you wouldn’t let just anybody near you, and I’m not just talking guys. I’m talking friends, family, too. You place a high value on your friendship and on your body. And you should.”

“Self-worth is not arrogance.”

He eyed me contemplatively. “Are you good in bed?”

After last night he even had to ask? “Uh … yeah.”

He smiled. “Are you good at your job?”

“Hell yeah.”

“If you wanted a man, do you think he would fuck you?”

I thought about it, about my history with men, and how (with the exception of Caine) I was the one who called the shots. “Probably. Not all.”

“But most.”

I shrugged.

“See? Arrogant.”

“Confident,” I argued, but I could see what he was getting at. “Okay. So you’re confident … with a touch of arrogance.” Bemused, I stared at the ceiling in thought. “I never thought of myself as arrogant before.”

Caine’s fingers brushed along my jaw, bringing my gaze back to his. “Arrogance can be obnoxious when it’s not earned. But if you’re good at something and you know it, then it’s fake and a waste of time to pretend that you’re not.”

I found myself smiling at his logic. “You know, some people are good at something and they don’t realize how good they are at it. It’s called being humble and modest.”

He shook his head, grinning as he pushed me onto my back. “I’m neither of those things. It sounds boring.”

My answering laughter was caught between his hungry lips.