I was being tortured.

The familiar, delicious scent of Caine’s cologne tickled my nose, and other less innocent places. My arms were wrapped around his neck as he carried me, holding me close to his hard body. I stared glumly at his lips that hovered near my face, and fought the urge to kiss him.

“You know, with all your money you could have installed an elevator inside your apartment so you didn’t have to carry me all the way upstairs,” I grumbled, only half joking, as he laid me down on his guest bed.

His hands rested on the bed at the sides of my shoulders as he braced over me. His eyebrows drew together as he searched my face. “Did I hurt you?”

The whole moving from the hospital to Caine’s apartment hadn’t been the most comfortable process, but no, he hadn’t hurt me. At least not physically.

“No,” I mumbled, and looked away.

Caine sighed. “Are you still mad at me?”

Yes, but now for a different reason. I glared at him. Why hadn’t he moved away? Move away! “Yes.”

“I’m trying to protect you.” He pulled back and I sighed in relief.

“I could have stayed with Rach. She offered.”

“And put up with a crazy four-year-old who would have no consideration for the fact that you’re wounded? There’s a way to guarantee ripping your stitches.”

Since I couldn’t argue with that, I continued glowering.

He smirked at me. “I would never have guessed you’d be an irritable patient.”

“Oh, I’m glad this is amusing you.” I groaned as I lifted myself up into a sitting position and Caine hurried forward to help me. I stopped him by raising a palm to ward him off. I’d had enough of being manhandled by the man I was no longer allowed to handle.

While I was in the hospital, someone had outfitted Caine’s guest room for me. It had always been a nice room, but now there was a television and a DVD player across from the bed, and a bookshelf stacked with books and magazines in the corner. An eReader and a laptop sat on the bedside table along with … knitting needles? I stared at them for a second and then raised an eyebrow at Caine.

Amused, he explained, “Effie says knitting calms the soul.”

“Do I look like I knit?”

“No, but you like you’re in a snit.”

“Oh, great, I get stabbed and you get cute.”

He threw me a look. “Seriously,” he muttered, coming over to fluff my pillows like the perfect nursemaid, “what’s crawled up your ass since leaving the hospital?”

“You.” I batted his hand away from my pillows. “You, you, you.” Could he really not see this was difficult for me? “It’s bad enough I have to be here to recuperate. Maybe you could just help me out a little by backing off.”

He seemed stunned by my outburst … until slowly I watched understanding dawn on his face. He stepped back from the bed. “I have to be here to help you out, Lex. There’s nothing to be done about that.”

I nodded and looked away, feeling utterly vulnerable that he now knew just how much it affected me to be around him. “But Effie will be here mostly?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“I take it you don’t want to watch a movie with me, then?”

An ache gripped my chest as I remembered our first movie night together.

“Maybe we could stay like this forever …”

I pushed the memory of his words out of my head and reached for the laptop. “Not tonight.”

Taking the hint, Caine moved to leave. He stopped at the doorway. “Can I get you anything before I leave you alone for the night?”

Leave me alone for the night?

The panic must have shown on my face, because he gentled. “I meant alone in this room. I’ll be down the hall.”

The thought of him lying down the hall from me filled me with even more frustration. I cursed my complicated feelings. I wanted him there, but I didn’t want him there. How fun for me. “A glass of water.”

He gave me a nod, seeming pleased to have been given a job. “Coming right up.”

At his departure I exhaled slowly.

I could hear Effie in my head, urging me not to give up on Caine, urging me to keep pushing and pushing at him until he finally gave me his secrets.

Right now I just felt too angry. I knew my anger came from the attack that left me feeling scared. I hated that I’d been made to feel like a victim. That feeling was seeping into every aspect of my life, and somehow it felt like a betrayal of myself—a weakness more than a strength—to fight for Caine when he was so resistant.

“If I don’t get out of this room soon, I’m going to scream.”

Effie gave me a warning look. “Scream and I will not bake you any more cakes.”

“Good. I’m getting fat.”

“Pfft.” She drew her eyes over me. “You’ve been eating like a bird since you got here. The only reason you’re not disappearing before my very eyes is my cakes.”

“Effie,” I whimpered like a child. “I need fresh air. At least let me go out on the balcony.”

To be fair I had been cooped up in Caine’s guest room for the last week. Effie stuck around the apartment while Caine was at work. I appreciated her help more than I could say. She was there to make sure I got in and out of the shower okay. She helped me change my dressing daily and proved herself once again pretty spry and strong for an old lady. Effie was also a great babysitter because she hung out with me, but she also hung out downstairs, giving us both space. Other than Effie I’d had Caine’s cleaner, Donna, for company the two times she arrived for work. It was my first time meeting her and I was more than a little uncomfortable with the circumstances. Along with Effie and Donna, I’d had Rachel and Sofie visit when they dropped by a few times. As did Henry and Nadia. They entertained me without even meaning to. I was fascinated witnessing Henry’s interaction with her. He constantly watched her—tender with her in a way I’d never seen from him before. As for Nadia, she was clearly really into him. I had my fingers crossed for them both, because I genuinely liked Nadia, and I’d come to care for Henry over the last few months. Someone had to get a happily ever after at the end of all this.

As for Grandpa, he called. Obviously it would be unfair to ask Caine if my grandfather could visit me at his apartment, so we just chatted for a little while on the phone. Grandpa was still dealing with the fallout of his family’s discovering I was in Boston and that he’d been seeing me behind their backs all along. Apparently there were a lot of discussions, but none of them reached a conclusion.

I think that was his polite way of avoiding telling me that the rest of the family, including my grandmother, didn’t want to have anything to do with me.

That stung. A lot. Along with Caine’s rejection, it pretty much could have threatened to bring on the great depression of the twenty-first century. But I had other things to worry about. For instance, the fact that there were still no leads on my attacker.

“You’re being a terrible patient. You know for your own safety we can’t let you out on the balcony,” Effie grumbled.

I scoffed, “We’re God knows how many stories high. Surely Caine doesn’t think my attacker can get to me on the balcony. I mean he’d have to have a sight gun.”

Effie blanched at the thought.

My heart pounded in my chest. “No. Caine doesn’t believe that’s even a remote possibility. Right? I mean … that’s … th-that’s crazy.”

“Sweetheart, it’s a little far-fetched, and Caine knows that. But right now he’s paranoid about your safety. You didn’t see him when he came home from the hospital that first night. He was wrecked. So you have to give him this.”

“Wrecked?” I whispered, my heart beating fast for a different reason now.

“I told you to keep fighting for a reason, Lexie. You really think a man like Caine lets someone infiltrate his life as thoroughly as you have because he ‘cares about you’?” It was her turn to scoff. “No. The feelings have to be a little more than lukewarm.”

“He let you infiltrate his life,” I argued.

She beamed. “Because he loves me.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

“No. He’s wildly and madly crazy about you. There’s a difference.”

“Don’t,” I pleaded. “He told me to my face that he doesn’t love me. I don’t need false hope from you.”

Effie scowled. “No, you need a swift kick up the ass. I told you to push him.”

“And I told you I’m still too pissed off to do anything else but be pissed off.”

“You need to get over that. It’s an ugly way to be.”

I narrowed my eyes in indignation. “You try getting over this kind of anger. Someone put me in this bed, someone who hasn’t been found yet. I’m sitting in this apartment feeling like a hunted animal. And all the while I’m being looked after by a person I love more than I’ve ever loved anyone and he rejected me. Please, tell me how not to be angry and I’ll do it.”

Effie leaned forward, her eyes kind. “You tell yourself that being angry and bitter and feeling hunted is giving the bastard that hurt you too much power. You shake him off, concentrate on staying safe and getting better, and force Caine to realize that he can’t live without you. Instead of pushing him away—yes, he told me you barely let him near you—you get in his face, you spend all your recuperation with him, reminding him just exactly what he’s giving up if he lets you go. And just when you’ve got him where you want him, you go in for the kill and you push him to give you the answers that you deserve.”

I let Effie’s advice wash over me, sinking into my gut.

We sat in silence for about ten minutes as I processed what she’d said. She leisurely flipped through a tabloid magazine like she hadn’t delivered the kind of profundity I had desperately needed.

Finally I said, my words soft, “How did you get so wise, Effie?”

“I’ve survived seventy-seven years on this planet,” she answered wryly, “and by making the right choices I even managed to live for most of them.”

The sound of Effie’s and Caine’s voices carried up toward the bedroom and I braced myself. I strained to hear what they were saying with no luck. I did, however, hear the front door shut and I held my breath. For the past five days when Caine returned from work, the first thing he did was check in on me.

Usually I grumbled that I was bored but fine; then he’d offer to get me something, to which I’d give him an errand; he’d complete the errand, and then leave me to it.

After having turned Effie’s advice over and over in my head, I’d determinedly shoved the bitter anger that was desperate to take hold of me to one side, and clawed my way back to my fighting spirit.

My pulse raced at the sound of Caine’s footsteps coming up the stairs. The louder those footsteps grew, the harder my heart beat.

Suddenly he was in my doorway looking bone-weary. Like always, that aching pang made itself known in my chest at the sight of him. “Hey,” I said.

He gave me a tired smile. “Hey back. How was today?”

I shrugged. “Boring. How was your day?”

His face darkened. “Still nothing.”

“You’ll get him.”

Caine’s eyes flared with surprise that quickly transformed into gratitude. “Can I get you anything?”

I took a deep breath. Here goes. “How would you feel about vegging out with me? We could order takeout. Watch a movie.”

He hesitated.

“Oh, if you have work, I totally get it.” I smiled my way through the disappointment.

“No.” He shook his head. “It can wait. Vegging out with you sounds great. What do you feel like ordering in?”

I hid my pleased grin and shrugged. “You choose. Movie too.”

Not too long later Caine was stretched out on the bed beside me. He’d changed out of his suit and was now in sweats and a T-shirt. Chinese take-out boxes were strewn across the middle of the bed between us, and we were watching an old Jean-Claude Van Damme movie.

“Now, see?” I pointed to the screen with my chopsticks. “If you could do that you could quite possibly rule the world.”

Caine gave a huff of laughter. “What? I’m that close? I just need to learn how to do jump box splits and land on a counter in that position?”

“Yes!” I insisted. “Then total world domination will follow.”

“Then look out, world, I’m coming.”

I giggled. “You can’t do box splits.”

He threw me a mock-insulted look. “I can do anything I put my mind to, baby.”

Pretending not to be thrilled at the return of the endearment, I shook my head in amusement. “You know, your lack of confidence is really quite embarrassing. You should work on that.”

Caine just grinned and dug into some of my moo shu pork.

I slanted him a circumspect look.

Effie was right.

I could do this.

It was all about stealth.

I stealthed the hell out of Caine over the next week.

I was getting around a little better now. The doc had said I was supposed to get up and about—gentle exercise, he called it—and I was hanging out downstairs a lot more. Caine was growing progressively more frustrated as he and the police hit a brick wall on the leads for my attacker. I knew wanting to be there for me was taking its toll on his work too. The lack of late nights at the office and lack of business trips had to mean someone else was covering for him, and I knew he was enough of a control freak to hate that.

That meant that when he returned home every evening he wore his dark mood like a black shroud around him. He only ever began to relax once he was out of his suit and kicking back with me to watch movies. We did a lot of movie watching and talking. Yet we never talked about anything serious.

I didn’t know if the lack of gravity in our conversations was what was impeding my stealth attack on Caine, but as far as I could see, despite our closeness he still wasn’t any nearer to letting me in.

I thought perhaps I was being too stealthy, so one night while we were watching the Brad Pitt movie about Jesse James I decided to drop the stealth and go in for the kill.

Caine was sitting upright, his long legs stretched out before him on the coffee table. I lay at the other end of the sofa with my legs sprawled across his lap. I studied his profile while he watched the movie and, if I wasn’t wounded, going in for the kill would involve a far more physical approach.

Being verbally direct would just have to do.

“Can you deal with this?” I blurted out, meaning could he deal with just friendship between us.

Caine turned to me and I knew he heard something in my voice that alerted him to what I meant. His whole body grew taut. “Alexa.”

I smirked unhappily. “I’m always ‘Alexa’ when you’re not happy with me.”

“Not true.” His eyes glinted and my body flushed.

Oh yeah. Sometimes I was “Alexa” in bed.

“Speaking of …”

He looked back at the screen. “Don’t ruin this. Outside these walls, life is fucked right now. This here … it’s the only thing I have. Don’t ruin it.”

I hesitated, wanting to give him what he wanted since he was caring for me. But I couldn’t. “This here … it isn’t real.”

“Bullshit,” he snapped, glaring at me. He seemed genuinely affronted by my assessment of our friendship. “It’s the only real—” He cursed and cut off his words before returning his gaze to the television.

“If it was real, there wouldn’t be secrets between us.”

Caine’s answer was to gently remove my legs from his lap and walk across the vast room. He disappeared upstairs and all the while my stomach churned with anxiousness.

When he returned thirty minutes later he was dressed in a shirt and slacks, his hair freshly washed and brushed.

“I’m going out,” he threw over his shoulder before grabbing his car keys.

The door slammed shut behind him.

I closed my eyes and the movement put pressure on the tears that were filling them. They scored tracks down my cheeks and I burrowed my face into the couch so I could muffle my sobs.

A minute or so later I jerked at the gentle touch on my shoulder and peered out from under my hair to find Effie there. She was perched on the sofa, gazing at me compassionately. “Caine asked me to come sit with you while he went out.”

I shifted around with care so I could rest my head on her lap and I just cried harder, hating that the bastard had the power to hurt me so badly.