Wrong move, asshole.
She leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment. Her eyes fell closed. “I ache all over,” she murmured. “Weird, considering I’ve done nothing but sit down all day.”
“That’ll be why.” I moved behind her. “Lean forward.”
“Why?”
“I’ll massage your shoulders.”
She twisted to look behind her to where I’d already sunk to my knees. “You’re going to give me a massage?”
I gave her a lopsided grin. “Yeah.”
She lifted her brows. “Who are you? Where has the mean asshole gone?”
“Oh, he’s never far away,” I drawled. “Just that all the orgasms have pushed him into a brief retreat.”
She chuckled but obeyed my order. I dug my thumbs into the knots at the back of her neck, and she groaned. “Christ, that feels good.”
I must have massaged her for a good fifteen minutes, which surprised the hell out of me. I wasn’t the kind of man who really cared that much about another’s pleasure, yet with Catriona, it felt different. And I hadn’t even slipped my hands over her shoulders to squeeze her tits either.
Catriona emitted this deeply contented sigh. “You’re a good man, Garen Gauthier. Whatever face you show the world, I’ve seen the real you these past few days.”
An uncomfortable sensation stirred in my chest, an alien feeling that caused a ball of anxiety to take root in my stomach and prickles to coat my skin.
What’s happening to me?
A sudden impulse to get the hell out of there sent me staggering to my feet. It wasn’t only Catriona who needed space tonight. I needed time alone to work through where the hell the ruthless, fierce, arrogant jackass who only cared about his own agenda had fucked off to. He wasn’t in this fucking room, that was for sure.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I said, drying my hands on a nearby towel. “I have work to do.”
I didn’t stick around for her to question me, although the surprised expression on her face left me in no doubt my reaction hadn’t been the one she’d expected to such a compliment.
Too bad. I needed out.
28
Catriona
“Are you busy this evening?”
I glanced up from where I’d settled down with a book in the garden room where light flooded in through the glass roof and amplified the warmth from the weak fall sun. I’d discovered this space yesterday after a fitful night’s sleep caused by what happened with me and Garen Monday night on our return from the hospital. I still couldn’t figure out what had gone wrong. One minute he was giving me a massage worthy of a professional masseuse, his talented hands eradicating the tension that had burrowed into my muscles. The next he’d scurried off, and I hadn’t seen him since.
Until now.
Lifting my brows, I gave him a cold stare. If he thought he could wander in here and act like nothing had happened, he had another think coming. “Yes,” I said in a curt tone.
A hint of surprise graced his face, and then his jaw flexed. “Well, whatever plans you have, cancel them. There’s a work thing I need to go to, and you’re coming with me.”
I closed the book and set it down on the coffee table next to my half-finished glass of juice. “What work thing?”
“Does it matter?” he snapped. “We might be in Switzerland rather than Canada, but our deal stands. I told you there would be occasions I need you to attend functions. This is one of those times. It’s black tie, so dress appropriately.”
His snippy attitude stiffened my spine, and I sent him a venomous glare. “I don’t have appropriate clothing for an event like that. I wasn’t planning on staying long, if you remember.”
“I’ll have the driver take you into the city this morning. I have accounts at several suitable establishments in town. I’ll leave the list of venues with him. Meet me in the entranceway at seven o’clock.”
He spun on his heel and strode off before I could impart a suitably sarcastic retort.
“Asshole,” I muttered. I’d mistakenly assumed that Switzerland Garen was a lot nicer than Canada Garen. How wrong I was. Well, fine. If that was the way he wanted to play it, I’d meet him blow for blow.
I asked Grams and Aiden if either of them wanted to come dress shopping with me. Aiden’s exhaustion from Monday had receded quickly, as the doctors had promised us it would. Just as well, considering his next session was tomorrow. Both of them hurriedly declined, Grams citing the desire to finish the latest sweater attached to her knitting needles and Aiden pretending he’d had a sudden relapse. Couldn’t blame them, really. Shopping for clothes wasn’t something anyone in my family did very often, and as such, it wasn’t what we considered a fun activity.
As it turned out, though, I did have fun. The establishments Garen mentioned were the kinds of stores where the members of staff treated their customers like royalty, and they had a real flair for dressing women. It was at the third place I visited that I found the perfect gown. The deep-purple coloring went perfectly with my green eyes. The off-the-shoulder design and cinched waist gave me the illusion of an hour-glass figure, even though my dancing roots had left me a little lacking in that department. Paired with three-inch heels, necessary given the length of the gown, I reckoned I’d almost be as tall as Garen.
The driver dropped me back off at the house, and after a late lunch with Grams and Aiden—with Garen nowhere to be seen—I headed off to my room to get ready for the evening.
As soon as I entered, I spotted a square box sitting on the edge of my bed and a folded piece of paper on top. With a frown, I padded over and picked it up.
I’m sorry for my bad mood. Peace-offering?
I picked up the box and opened it, a gasp falling from my lips. Inside, nestled amongst swathes of wine-red satin, lay a sparkling three-tiered diamond choker and a pair of drop earrings. With trembling fingers, I removed the necklace and examined it in the dim light. These gems couldn’t be real. Could they? No, surely not. They had to be cubic zirconia. If these were real diamonds, it must have cost… shit, an unbelievable amount of money. More than I’d probably earn in a lifetime.
I returned my focus to the note, my heart softening. Whatever the reason for Garen’s dark mood since Monday night, he appeared to have shaken it off. At least I hoped so. I’d find out for sure in a few hours.
At five before seven, I stood in front of the full-length free-standing mirror in the corner of my bedroom, shocked at the image staring back at me. Grams had offered to put my hair up, and it had been the right call. The style elongated my neck and brought attention to the choker and earrings. Paired with this beautiful dress and light makeup, I scarcely recognized myself.
I carefully picked my way downstairs, holding my dress up to make sure I didn’t snag a heel in the hem. As I reached the bottom, I glanced around, searching for Garen. The entranceway was empty, an eerie silence gracing the wide space. Frowning, I set off toward the kitchen. I poked my head inside. That, too, lay empty, the countertops cleaned down for the day, the surfaces gleaming where Lia had polished them religiously.
If Garen had done this as a form of punishment, I’d… I’d…
I whirled around, ready to hunt him down and give him a sizeable piece of my mind, and then gasped. He stood with his shoulder propped against the door, his elegant fingers stroking his chin.
“Wow,” he murmured. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”
I clasped a hand to my neck, my fingers touching the cool diamonds at my throat, reminding me of his extravagant gift.
“Hi.”
I dipped my chin, peeking up at him through a pair of unfamiliar fake eyelashes that one of the women at the store had convinced me to buy. Damn, he looked fine, his tuxedo fitting him like a second skin, the crisp, white shirt offsetting his darker coloring to perfection.
He crossed the space between us and captured my hand, bringing it to his lips. “You got my gift and my apology then?”
I t
ouched the necklace again, then my fingers fluttered to the earrings where I lightly tugged. “Are they real?” I whispered.
He traced his thumb over my knuckles. “As real as you, but not nearly as beautiful.”
I dipped my chin, shaking my head. “It’s too much, Garen. I’m happy to wear it tonight, but then you must take it back.”
“No,” he said bluntly, then stood back to study me. “That dress is gorgeous on you. I’ll enjoy removing it later.”
I drew in a shaky breath as my pulse leaped at his compliment. Had Switzerland Garen made a return? I hoped so. The other one made me want to bring my knee up and aim right for his groin.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he mused.
I almost laughed aloud. You don’t want to know.
“Nothing. Shall we go?”
He inclined his head, then stuck out his arm. “I’ll have to keep a very close eye on you this evening.”
I frowned up at him. “Why?”
“Because every man in that room, single or otherwise, is going to try to steal you away, and the first one who makes an attempt will live to regret it.”
My heart skipped a beat, and a lightness settled over my chest at his possessiveness. He walked me to the front door. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Grams and Aiden standing at the top of the stairs peering down at me. Aiden stuck up both his thumbs, a broad grin almost splitting his face in two while Grams gave me a brief nod, her approval in that slight movement of her head. I wasn’t sure how Garen had managed to win over my grandmother, but it appeared as though he’d achieved the impossible.
“What is this event, anyway?” I asked as the car pulled onto the main highway into Geneva. “You didn’t say.”
“The Federal Chancellor heard I was in the city and invited me to attend an event in aid of a local charity he’s supporting,” he explained. “No doubt he’ll tap me for a sizeable donation before the evening ends.”
I wrinkled my nose. No idea who this man was, although his title made him sound important. “Who’s the Federal Chancellor?”
“A senior member of the Swiss government,” Garen said.
I widened my eyes. “The government? Wow. Do you often mix with foreign governments?”
He smiled. “All the time. Unfortunately. These gatherings are usually decidedly dull.” His eyes darkened as he lowered his gaze, settling on my cleavage. “I think tonight might be an exception.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I swallowed. “Why’s that?” I whispered.
A chuckle left his mouth. “Fishing for compliments, Catriona? You, mon petit chaton. You are the difference.” He lifted his gaze to my mouth. “I hope you have a spare lipstick in your purse.”
His palm skimmed along my jaw, and then he pulled me to him, his lips gently roving over mine in a kiss filled with unspoken promise. Goose bumps pebbled my bare arms, and I sank back against the buttery leather seat. Garen removed his seat belt, shuffled closer, and deepened the kiss.
Long before I’d had my fill of him, he broke away. He touched his fingertips to his mouth, rubbing back and forth. “Take off your panties.”
A flush of heat rushed through me, and I ducked my head as I realized what I’d have to admit given his question. “I’m not wearing any.”
A groan rumbled through his chest, and his eyes briefly closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”
“They ruined the line of the dress,” I hurriedly explained. I didn’t want him thinking I was some kind of hussy who regularly went around panty-less. Nor did I want him thinking I’d done it for him. Or maybe I did. Shit, my thoughts were all over the place.
“If we weren’t almost there, I’d hoist up that dress and fuck you in the backseat of this car. As we’re only about five minutes away, my plans will have to wait until the return journey.” He gave me a wicked grin. “Or maybe I’ll spirit you off into a dark corner somewhere when no one is paying attention.”
A shudder of pleasure rippled down my spine. One he noticed if his roguish grin was any indication.
The car eased to a stop, and I peered out of the window at an imposing mansion set amongst lawned gardens adorned with mature trees and shrubbery. Several smartly dressed men and women milled around the entrance, and a line of luxurious cars were ahead of us, winding their way back down the driveway. My palms dampened, and a fluttering in my belly made me feel slightly nauseated. Nerves. Just nerves, Catriona. It was to be expected. I’d never mingled with dignitaries before. What if I said something stupid and embarrassed Garen and he turned back into the Canadian version I didn’t like?
“Relax,” Garen said, his thumb rhythmically stroking my inner wrist. “You’ll be fine.”
I nodded, dampened my lips with what little moisture I had in my mouth, and stepped onto the paved driveway. Garen was by my side in a second, and he captured my hand, his warmth a comfort I desperately needed.
I smoothed my free hand over my hip and ignored the chill breeze blowing across my bare shoulders. We’d be inside shortly. I could manage a short period of discomfort while we waited to be admitted.
“Walther,” Garen said, releasing me to shake hands with a man in his forties with thinning blond hair and crinkles around his eyes. “Allow me to introduce Catriona Landry. Catriona, this is Walther Meyer, the Federal Chancellor.”
The omission of any additional introduction such as girlfriend didn’t escape my notice. Then again, I wasn’t his girlfriend, so why would he introduce me as such? He’d made it perfectly clear we were a casual item enjoying each other until we weren’t. At least he didn’t saddle me with something like associate or, worse, secretary.
“Miss Landry, welcome.”
Walther smiled and thrust out his hand for me to shake. He had a firm grip, but not overly so. In my opinion, men who almost crushed bones when they shook hands were usually jerks trying to make a stupid point.
“Nice to meet you,” I murmured.
“Come on in. Mingle. Have fun. There’s champagne right inside. I’ll come find you later, Garen.”
He winked, then turned away to greet the next set of guests.
“Told you,” Garen whispered in my ear. He swiped two glasses off a loaded tray held with impressive steadiness by a waiter in a smart suit. Handing one to me, he clinked his glass against mine. “Cheers.”
We wandered around, Garen stopping to speak to various people about things that went over my head. I took these opportunities to scan the room. People-watching was one of my favorite activities, and this room provided excellent fodder. As Garen expected, Walther cornered him and secured a sizeable donation to the beneficiary of tonight’s event, the amount Garen cheerfully donated making my eyes water. Yet he waved it off as if it were nothing more than a dollar.
“Let’s go outside,” Garen whispered when Walther moved on to his next target, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a delicious shudder through my body. “I’ve had enough of sharing you.”
“I didn’t bring a wrap,” I said. “It’s chilly out.”
He swept his tongue over his plump bottom lip, drawing my eye. “Don’t worry, chaton. I’ll keep you warm.”
We wandered out onto the enormous decked area at the rear of the house. I needn’t have worried about the chill. Several heaters were dotted around, making it feel as warm as a spring morning. A few other people wandered about, but apart from nodding to one or two of them, Garen didn’t engage. Soft music played from speakers I couldn’t see as he steered me to a quiet corner, maneuvering me until I found myself flush against the wall of the house.
“Every man in that room wanted you tonight,” he said, dropping little kisses along my jawline.
His hand gripped my ass and he ground his erection into me. I closed my eyes, savoring the sensation.
“But they can’t have you, Catriona. No one can have you except me. And I will. Repeatedly.”
He drew back, his eyes burning with a possession that scared as well as thrilled me.
“You’re mine, and only mine.”
I inhaled a sharp breath, his words playing on a loop inside my head. Was this a declaration of something more? If we discounted the lunch on the roof terrace the first day we arrived in Switzerland, then tonight was our third date. Dinner in the mountains the night we slept together, the sailing trip, and now tonight. Although maybe this didn’t count as a date. Oh, who the hell knew? I had to stop trying to second-guess Garen’s intentions. The man was unreadable at the best of times. Seeking to figure out what went on in his head was a futile exercise.
He shuffled back a step or two, and a weird expression crossed his face, darkening his features. Shaking his head as though he had water in his ears, he muttered something under his breath that sounded remarkably like “No fucking way.”
“Garen?”
He met my query with narrowed eyes and shoved a hand through his hair. “I’ve had enough. Let’s go.”
29
Garen
Silence hung heavy in the air as my driver negotiated the winding driveway that led back onto the highway. I sensed Catriona’s confusion in the way she fiddled with the strap on her purse and the amount of times her hand touched the diamond choker I’d gifted her, almost as if she wanted to rip it off and ram it down my throat.
I didn’t blame her.
One minute I’d declared she belonged to me, and in the very next breath, I backed off as if I’d spotted a grizzly bearing down on me, threatening my very existence.
When I’d uttered those words, I’d meant them with every fiber of my being, the strength of my pronouncement coming as a hell of a shock. A few weeks ago, I hadn’t even known this woman existed, and now I struggled to acknowledge a life without her in it.
The same mantra started up in my head.
I didn’t do relationships.
I grew bored with female company after a couple of dates and a few meaningless fucks.
Entrapped: A Billionaire Romance (The ROGUES Series Book 3) Page 16