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.

Half an hour later he replied.

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.

His dick grew hard against my ass.

Bingo.

Looking up at him, I saw his eyes were still closed but the color was rising in his cheeks and he was moving slightly, a little restless beneath me.

Feeling mischievous and wicked, I brushed my ass over his erection as I moved downward, and had to squeeze my eyes shut against the lust that shot through me at the feel of his hard-on between my legs. I fought for patience, resisting the urge to wake him, pull down his pajama bottoms, and slide him inside me. Instead I tugged down his bottoms and underwear so his cock sprang out. I took him into my mouth, growing increasingly wet at the groans it elicited from him.

For a few seconds I toyed with him, running my tongue down the underside before swirling it around the sensitive rim. Caine began to jerk his hips upward, forcing him farther into my mouth.

I sucked hard.

“Lexie,” I heard his surprised gasp, and looked up at him from under my lashes. Caine was awake now and straining against me. “Lex.” His sleepy, aroused voice was such a turn-on. “Baby …”

I continued to suck him as my fist pumped the base of his erection. His breathing grew ragged, his thighs were rigid, and I knew he was close. I took him almost to the edge and then released him before he got there.

“Lexie,” he groaned, his head flopping back on the pillow, “are you trying to kill me?”

“Not quite.” I grinned as I shifted back to pull down his bottoms. He helped and then quickly removed his shirt as I crawled back up his body.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” His eyes cut to the pink scar on my stomach. It wasn’t huge, but it was there. Reminding us. Caine’s arms came around me, drawing me up against his chest. His hands caressed my naked back, his eyes filled with desire and tenderness. “We can wait.”

I shook my head and leaned down to brush my lips over his. “I’m done waiting.” I kissed him with all the fierce love and need I had inside me. My tongue danced with his in a deep, drugging kiss as we crushed tight against each other.

Caine broke the kiss to follow a path down my throat with his mouth. I gasped for breath, my hips surging against his cock as he kissed his way down to my breasts. When he wrapped his lips around my nipple, I lost all control.

I pushed up on my knees, wrapped my hand around him, and guided him to my entrance. I lowered myself down and we panted as he slid inside me. The overwhelming thickness of him took my breath away for a moment and we both held still as my body eased into accepting him.

I sighed when I moved up on him slightly and back down. Pleasure rippled through me.

Caine grasped the back of my head and pulled my mouth back to his, kissing me with a voraciousness that seeped into me—I couldn’t get enough of him. I began to ride him hard.

“Easy, baby,” he attempted to coax through a groan, apparently still concerned for my injury.

“No,” I gasped, my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders as I fucked him with all the desperation that had been inside me for weeks.

We both came fast and hard, the pulsing clench of my climax around his cock wrenching his own orgasm from him.

I collapsed in his arms, my face buried against his neck. I somehow managed to move my languid legs so they were comfortably wrapped around his hips as I sat in his lap.

He twitched inside me at the movement and I smiled. “Round two?”

He kissed my shoulder. “I’ll need a minute or so,” he said, his voice filled with humor.

“And then round two?”

Caine shook with laughter. “Yes. And then round two.” He gently threaded his fingers through my hair to clasp the nape of my neck. He brought my head back and I stared into his handsome face, my gaze low-lidded with satisfaction. Something flared in his eyes at the sight of mine. “Fuck yeah, round two,” he said, “but this time I’m in charge.”

Not too long later Caine held me down, my hands at the sides of my head while he glided inside me, and it was all with tenderness that brought tears to my eyes. He held my gaze as he thrust gently, taking his time to stoke the flame. It was intense and moving and so much more than we’d had before. Now I knew as he gazed into my face while he made love to me … I knew what was working behind his eyes.

I knew it because, as he pushed me in nerve-tingling increments toward climax, he told me.

“I love you, Lex,” he said, his voice rough with passion. “Love you so much, baby.”

The tears escaped before I could stop them. “I love you too.”

He let go of one of my hands to brush his thumb across my temple where the tearstain tracked. The sight of my tears seemed to fan the flames of urgency inside him and he began to pump into me faster.

“Oh God.” I wanted to touch him, but Caine knew his control over my pleasure increased it. “Baby!” My cries filled the room, matching his groans as he fucked me harder. The tension inside me snapped and I cried out as the stunning orgasm ripped through me.

Quick on the heels of my orgasm, Caine’s hips stilled and then jerked as his own climax tore through him.

I stroked his back in leisurely wonder. “I’ve never been this happy,” I whispered, a little scared by it.

Caine must have heard the fear, because he kissed my neck, tightened his hold on me, and said, “Me neither. But we’ll get used to it.”

“Promise?”

He lifted his head to meet my gaze. “No, because on second thought I don’t want to get used to it. If you get used to it—”

“You forget to be thankful for it,” I finished.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

I thought about our rough starts in life, Caine’s of course more so than mine. I thought about our rough last few weeks, mine more so than Caine’s.

I brushed my thumb over his lower lip. “I don’t think we’ll ever forget to be thankful.”

“No. I don’t suppose we will.”

Later that day while Caine was at work, I received a call from my father. It wasn’t the easiest conversation, and I wasn’t sure there ever would be easiness between us. My father was going to be in my life when my case against Matthew and Holts went to court because he was obviously a very important witness. But there were no promises from either of us that there would be a future in the cards. Honestly it seemed pretty impossible with Caine between us.

I had to wonder, even if I wanted my father back in my life, would I have tried to make a place for him in it? Or would I have chosen Caine over him? I wasn’t sure what the answer would be, but I was stunned and a little disconcerted by the little voice inside me that whispered I would always choose Caine.

And then I realized that wasn’t quite true.

I think that I would choose Caine over nearly anyone … but if we had children they would always come first. I also knew enough about the man I loved to know that he would feel the same way. So many adults hadn’t taken him into consideration when he was a child. In the past few weeks Caine had mentioned “our children” in this offhand manner that made me smile—like kids with me was a given now that he’d admitted he loved me.

He would never put a kid through anything like what he’d been through.

Neither would I.

That realization made me think of my mom. It made me think of what Caine had said to me all those months ago at Good Harbor Beach.

So I sat down to have one last conversation with my mother in the hopes of freeing myself of some that hurt.