Chapter Thirty-Four

Now

I feel like another person as I look in the mirror at an almost unrecognizable image. The dress is beautiful and subtle at the same time. It covers my shoulders but makes a small plunge down my neckline, showing a modest amount of cleavage. The dark blue fabric is soft and molds to my curves, but flares out at my hips, the hem ending mid-calf with a flirty slit up the side that can only be seen if I move quick enough for the material to swish.

I’m not sure how fancy this dinner will be. I don’t want to be underdressed, but I certainly don’t want to look as if I’m going to a ball. I bought my paint then ended up at the mall, knowing I won’t feel good unless I have a new dress.

I can wear a business suit, but it’s a dinner. I don’t want to look severe. The moment I tried this dress on, I felt like a million bucks even though I cringed at the price tag. I put it on my credit card and gave myself a break. I make more money at this job and I can afford to splurge once in a while.

My hair is down to partially conceal the plunging back. It’s curled and soft, and I love the scent of my new shampoo. I make my eyes darker, giving them a mysterious shadow. I top the look off with a glossy pink on my lips. It seems I can’t get away from that color. But I like the finished look.

There’s no time to spare. I fussed too long, and Kaden will be here before I’m ready if I don’t slip into my strappy black shoes. I’m not one of those women who keep people waiting. That’s a bad habit I had to break when I was younger, the moment I realized I had a reputation for never arriving anywhere on time.

Just as I buckle the last strap, my doorbell rings. My heart thuds as the sound echoes through the house. Is Kaden’s driver picking me up or will it be him? This is only a work event. It is in no way a date. Still, my nerves are on fire.

I glance in the mirror one final time and trust that everything will be okay. I walk to the front of my house and open the door. My breath catches and there’s nothing that can free it again.

Kaden is here, looking as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. His lips are pressed together as he looks me over. But I’m not only focused on his face. I study the overall picture. I’ve seen him in many custom suits, in jeans, in sweats. I’ve never seen him in a black tux before. Maybe this dinner is more formal than I’m prepared for, but I’m glad I splurged on the dress.

He wears a crisp white shirt beneath his black jacket. It fits him to perfection, every single inch of the garment molds perfectly to his sculptured body. He’s an artist’s dream to sketch. He’s too beautiful to be real.

“Breathtaking,” he whispers, reaching out and taking my hand. I can’t pull it away. Now I’m fixed on his eyes. Flames appear to leap within them as he stares at me.

He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses my fingers. A tingle races up my arm, then slowly travels through my body, heating my core, making me ache in a way that’s nearly unbearable.

“You’re a sight,” I say, my voice husky. I’m unable to hide my reaction to him. He smiles the briefest of smiles as he clutches my fingers.

“I think we’re going to have a difficult time getting business done. You’re definitely stealing the spotlight tonight,” he whispers. He’s shaken off the stunned look, and his normal mask is back in place. I wish I could do the same. I don’t have a response to his words. I try to come up with something to say to ebb the intensity I’m feeling.

“Are you ready?” he asks. The question jolts me back to reality.

“Yes. Let me grab my purse and jacket.” I snatch the flimsy cover-up from the back of a chair and he takes it from my fingers. I turn as he carefully positions it over my back, his fingers trailing the naked skin of my shoulders.

Goosebumps appear on my flesh. There’s no way he doesn’t see my response to him. There’s no point trying to hide it. Maybe it’s time for me to let happen what’s going to happen.

I grab my purse, and he leads me from the house. I don’t glance at any of my neighbor’s homes. I don’t want to know if they’re looking out, if they’re wondering why I’m dressed up, why there’s a strange man escorting me down the walk. I can’t say it’s innocent and nothing more than a work thing, because I know it isn’t.

Something is going to happen — and it will happen soon.

A driver is in front of a large black SUV, a different one from what he had driven earlier. I am glad to have a chaperone, knowing my inhibitions are lowering by the minute.

The driver, Paul, the same man who took me to the airport, smiles, and I greet him. He holds open the back door and I slide in. I’m full of nerves as Kaden moves in beside me, sitting close. I notice there’s privacy glass between us and the driver. My stomach flutters. There goes my chaperone.

“Look at me,” Kaden demands.

I move in slow motion as I turn my head and do what he huskily demands. Our eyes meet and hold. My breathing deepens and his scent envelopes me. I squeeze my legs together, the pressure unbearable. I feel all of this from nothing more than a kiss on the fingers and a few words. But I know the power of his touch, know what it does to me.

“Are you done fighting this?” he asks.

I’m silent as I try to work through the jumble of thoughts in my head. I sigh.

“This isn’t a work event, is it?” I ask.

“Yes, it is,” he tells me. “But I won’t lie. I want you on my arm.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m married.” The words are a statement.

“You wouldn’t be here with me if it mattered,” he told me.

He was right. I wouldn’t be here with him. I wouldn’t desire him. My husband left me long ago, as I left him. We’d broken our vows. It was breaking my heart to realize this.

I nodded.

Kaden doesn’t ask this time. One moment we’re separated, and the next he pulls me over him, sitting me on his lap as he closes the space between us, taking my lips in a desperate kiss.

I don’t even pretend it isn’t what I want. I grab ahold of him, my hands wrapping around his massive shoulders. I hold on tight as he ravishes my mouth and his hands travel down my body.

The skirt of my dress hikes up as he caresses my bare thighs, and then he shifts me so I straddle him. My knees are spread wide as I press forward, feeling the power of his hardness push against my damp panties.

My tongue tangles with his. I can’t get close enough, can’t feel enough. I want him fiercely and I’m not capable of only waiting anymore. Trying to deny myself has been torture. He’s beautiful and desirable and he wants me. He makes me feel like I’m special and needed, like I’m the only person he sees.

I want to reach between our bodies, want to feel the power of his erection, want to feel if he fits in my hand. I want to take him and guide him inside me. I’ve lost all interest in this dinner we’re on our way to. I’ve made my decision, and all I want is to get naked with this man.

I reach for his pants, losing my mind in my desire to have him. His fingers slide beneath the elastic of my panties, and he groans when he slips them over my wet flesh. I’m more than ready for him.

The car stops.

It takes a moment for me to realize the front door has closed with a gentle finality. The driver is coming around. I lean back, mortified.

We gaze at each other. Kaden’s face fills with pained passion. I’m sure mine looks exactly the same. Neither of us says a word. I don’t know what we’ll do next.

I watch as a shutter comes over Kaden’s eyes. I watch him pull away from me. I’m hurt. I shrink a bit inside. I don’t understand what’s happening. I’ve finally decided to give myself to him . . . and now he’s pulling away from me.

Has it all been nothing more than a game? Has he just wanted my surrender only to throw me away once he has it?

“I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened here. I don’t have sex in cars. I certainly don’t do it when I have to appear in front of clients. If I could skip this dinner and take you home, I would.”

His words are so cold and clinical. Have I just been used and put back in place? This night was so wonderful a few moments before and is now utterly devastating. I want to run.

But I won’t. I committed to coming here with him. I’m not going to show him how much his coldness hurts me. He seems to be two different men — the one pursuing me, and the cold man the rest of the world sees.

He unlocks the door, and it immediately opens. He steps out and holds a hand to help me. I brush it off. I’ll be professional, but I’ll do it on my own. I don’t need him. I’m through being rejected.