Fight or Flight

by Young, Samantha

  Surprise and pleasure filled me that he would admit that, and he shook his head at my expression. “Are you gonna lie and say I’m not the best you’ve ever had?”

  Usually, I would take his words for annoying overconfidence, but I knew that wasn’t how he meant them. He just knew, as I did, that sex between us was on a whole other level of epicness. Still, it discomfited me. “Well, I don’t have a lot to compare it to.”

  Irritation flickered across his expression and he took a step back.

  “I’m not lying,” I hurried to assure him. “I—I’ve only ever been with one other man before you.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “No way.”

  I blushed, feeling vulnerable and suddenly wishing I hadn’t been so honest. “Uh, yes way.”

  “You told me you’d had great sex before.”

  “It was great sex.”

  “But ours is better.” It wasn’t a question.

  “With you it’s …” I flushed harder and didn’t enjoy being so honest with him. “Yes, sex with you is off the charts. Happy?”

  Caleb grinned and I rolled my eyes at his arrogance. “That wasn’t so hard tae admit, was it?”

  “Shut up.”

  He chuckled and stepped back into my space, so I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “No more judgments. No more overanalyzing it. Let’s just enjoy what we have while it lasts.”

  My body was already inching toward him, craving his touch, so there was really no other answer to give. “Okay. But no more telling me I’m not your type.”

  To my astonishment, he looked chagrined. “I won’t do that again. It was an arsehole move and I regretted it as soon as I said it.”

  My lips parted in shock. The man could admit when he was wrong. Wow.

  He suddenly gripped my chin gently and brought my lips to his, where he brushed the sweetest kiss across them. He pulled back but didn’t release me, and he said softly, “I know you’re sad, Ava, about your friend. It’s not up tae me tae take that away, tae make you happy. But I can distract you, babe. I can give you somewhere tae disappear.”

  Tears burned in the back of my eyes before I could stop them at his sweet words. This was a side to Caleb Scott I was afraid to admit might exist. This was a man who could be dangerous to me. But I was going to choose to ignore the danger in favor of the rush and escape he was offering. I blinked back the tears and nodded. “Tonight?”

  “Same time. You’ve still got the key card?”

  “Yes.”

  He kissed me again, longer, deeper, his tongue dancing with mine until I was clinging to the heat of him, overwhelmed. I felt his hand slide down over my ass, pulling me tight against him, and I felt the thickening of his arousal against my belly. Just like that he jerked away, like he had to force himself to let go of me. “You best go.” His voice was hoarse with need. “I’ll need a minute before I go back tae my table.”

  That feeling of power returned and I gave him an arrogant smile that made him chuckle. With one last wave of my fingers, I walked away, feeling his gaze burn into my back. As I left the restaurant, I couldn’t shake off a residual feeling of uncertainty. It had changed from what I was feeling when I first walked into the restaurant. It was no longer worry that I could have such strong desire for a man I disliked. No, now I began to wonder if I’d been lying to myself all along. That maybe I’d been able to see past Caleb’s brusque rudeness, and that maybe I could like him.

  And liking him was concerning to me.

  But not being able to kiss and touch him again was even more of a concern. Dominating my uncertainty was my relief that it wasn’t over. I’d explain the conversation Caleb and I had to Harper so she wouldn’t worry about me. He and I had reached a new understanding.

  As I walked back to my office, I began to wish away the rest of the day, desperate to get my next fix now that we’d cleared the air between us.

  Thirteen

  As soon as I strolled into the Marquess, one of the most exclusive restaurant-clubs in the city, I couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t belong there. However, I suspected if the people who frequented the club caught even a hint of insecurity, they’d be on me like a shark scenting blood in the water. In an effort to seem confident, I wore a careful expression that said, I belong here, but don’t talk to me. I, of course, didn’t belong there. Patrice and Danby had invited me to dine with them along with Caleb that evening.

  Two more days had passed since he and I had had our little tête-à-tête at Canterbury. And two more nights of passion in his hotel room. Last night he’d been so desperate to have me, he pounced on me as I let myself into his room.

  My eyes locked with Caleb’s as the host of the club led me across the elegant library room toward him. Apparently, Patrice and Danby hadn’t arrived yet, so Caleb and I were to wait for them before being led into the dining room.

  There were only a few other people in the room sitting near the open fireplace, but Caleb was sitting in the back. He’d been frowning at his phone, yet had looked up from it almost as soon as I entered the room. As if he’d felt my presence.

  I couldn’t help but shiver at the way those wolf eyes of his dipped down my body as I approached. The heat in his gaze made me glad I’d worn this dress. It was one of my favorites—a modern twist on a flapper dress. I felt like a 1920s movie star whenever I wore it. Champagne colored with silver detailing, it sparkled subtly as I moved, hugging my body but not too tightly. The kind of dress that made me feel playful but classy at the same time. I’d matched it with a pair of strappy silver stilettos and I’d swept all my hair to one side in a loose, elegant braid.

  Caleb stood up as I approached.

  “As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Danby arrive, I will inform them that their guests are here,” the host said.

  “Thank you,” I replied, watching him walk away, feeling Caleb’s focus on me. Finally I turned to meet his eyes. “Hello.”

  He pulled a seat out for me at the coffee table. I thanked him as I sat down, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingered over my legs as I crossed them. The truth was, I was nervous to be in a normal situation with him. For the last three nights, we’d been lost in a sex bubble together, and because of that it felt like we’d been sleeping together for longer than we had. I knew intimate details about this man, as he did about me.

  We had, however, planned to keep our interludes restricted to the physical desire we shared. When we talked in the hotel room, it was about what we wanted to do to each other. Yet, despite our best-laid plans, Patrice had turned the tables on us. She’d called me to tell me she felt terrible for neglecting Caleb, certain that he wasn’t staying in one of their guest rooms at all, but still at the hotel. Upset at failing in her hostess duties, she had insisted she and Danby make time to have dinner with him, and had also insisted that I join them.

  And at their private club no less.

  Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves surrounded us, with leather-bound books filling every inch of them. Coffee tables and elegant armchairs were strategically placed throughout the room, and there was a small free bar near the entrance.

  “Oh, how the other half live,” I muttered.

  “You look beautiful.”

  Caleb’s compliment brought my gaze swinging back to his rugged face. He wore a small smile, as if entertained by my startled expression. “I’ve called you beautiful before. Why so surprised now?”

  “Because you said it without sounding pissed off about it.”

  He flashed me a grin. “Is that so?”

  “It is.” I gave him a quizzical smile. “And thank you. You look very handsome.”

  He leaned an elbow on the armchair and braced his fist against his mouth. Though the movement shielded his lips from me, I saw the thoughtful amusement in his gaze. I didn’t know what was so funny about my compliment, but I shrugged it off since he did look handsome in his dinner suit and black tie.

  There was something kind of erotic about the fact that he dressed like such a gentleman
here and hid the wild, tattooed guy that only I got to see when we were together. I’d traced every inch of his tattoos with my tongue, so curious about them I’d almost asked him about the significance of the warriors and the phrase he’d decided to have permanently inked on his skin.

  Thankfully, I’d stopped myself before I could cross that line.

  Caleb continued to study me, his eyes taking in every detail of my face until I shifted uncomfortably. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

  Lifting his head away from his hand, he shrugged. “Nothing else is worth looking at when you’re in the room.”

  Stunned, I felt my breath catch in my throat. It was quite possibly one of the most romantic things anyone had ever said to me, and it came from the most unexpected source. It took a few attempts to compose myself and ignore the way my heart turned over in my chest; I struggled for once for a retort. Instead, I decided on a subject change, breaking my rule about not asking him personal questions. “Why were you frowning at your phone when I walked in?”

  If Caleb was perplexed by the probing question, he didn’t show it. Instead he glanced at his phone where it sat on the coffee table. “They think flights tae Europe will be available again by the end of the week, but it looks like I’ll be here for at least a week beyond that.” He stared at me as I felt a warmth in my chest that couldn’t possibly be happiness. “The men I was at lunch with the other day …”

  “Yeah?”

  “One of them is the CFO of the North American division. And he’s a complete and utter nightmare. He does nothing. Delegates everything—and I mean everything—tae staff members who are struggling under the weight of their own duties and now his. Staff members who aren’t qualified and aren’t paid the six figures he’s being paid. He deflects my questions because he can’t answer them. He’s lazy, arrogant, and clueless and—” He cut off as his voice began to rise in anger.

  Sympathy moved through me. He sounded so stressed. “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I’m not his boss. In fact, the little shit thinks he’s my superior because the North American division brings more money in than the UK.”

  “Well, I’m sure that’s true for most companies—we’re a bigger country.”

  “Aye, but the figures aren’t adding up. The company should be doing better here than it is. I suspect he’s mismanaging the financial risks the division is taking, but I can’t know for certain without getting a look at his files. And he won’t let me look at his files.”

  “So how do you alert the head honchos without pissing everybody off, right?”

  “Right.” He sighed. “And is it my place tae alert them?”

  “Yes,” I answered immediately. “It’s obvious you care about your work and this company. You don’t cross me as the type of man who would let an injustice go on without doing something about it.” And weirdly, despite my misgivings about him in the past, he really didn’t. I suppose I’d started to realize that when he sought to protect me from the assholes at the restaurant in O’Hare.

  Caleb studied me with an intensity that made my skin flush hot. “Ten days isn’t much time tae do it.”

  I smirked. “But you’re going to do it anyway.”

  He let out a low laugh but didn’t answer either way. Still, I knew deep down he was going to do something about it.

  We shared a look of mutual appreciation, and I felt emotion begin to well up inside of me. Emotion I had not expected to feel toward him. It was exactly as I had feared. Was I beginning to like my Bastard Scot?

  “There you are, darlings!” Patrice’s voice carried across the room and we both turned to watch her and Danby walking toward us. She wore a long, figure-hugging, black-beaded dress. Her arm was looped through Danby’s. Michael Danby Senior was the same height as his wife, with a trim, athletic build and a handsome boyish face that never seemed to change as the years passed. His dark eyes were always lit with good humor and kindness.

  Caleb and I stood at their approach and were immediately engulfed in Patrice’s expensive perfume as she kissed our cheeks in turn. When his wife released me, Danby stepped forward to kiss my right cheek.

  “You look beautiful as always, Ava,” he murmured.

  “And you handsome as always.”

  He smiled at my compliment and then offered his hand to Caleb. “Nice to see you again. We keep missing each other at the house.”

  Caleb shook his hand. “Tae be honest, I’ve been working so late at the office, I’ve been crashing at the hotel instead. I hope you dinnae mind.”

  “Of course not,” Danby said. “But the room is there if you need it.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  Did he just say thank you?

  “You really should use it, though, darling,” Patrice admonished gently. “Our cook, Andrea, makes the most wonderful breakfast. I’m quite sure the Four Seasons’s doesn’t compare.”

  Caleb gave her a placating nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Well.” Patrice stepped back to look at us standing together. “Don’t you two look absolutely ravishing together. Danby, don’t they look ravishing?” But before he could agree, she frowned at Caleb. “Although, darling, I would really like to see that handsome face of yours. Danby, make an appointment for Caleb at your Ray’s Barbers.”

  “No,” I blurted out without thinking about it.

  Patrice seemed bewildered by my outburst while mirth danced in Danby’s eyes. Caleb looked at me with knowing laughter twitching his lips. I flushed, giving him a side-eyed glare before I smiled somewhat sheepishly at Patrice. “I just mean … that … I, uh … well, I think Caleb should make that decision. Maybe he likes all that stubble.”

  She eyed us in suspicion and growing understanding. Something like delight crept across her features. “It’s no longer stubble, Ava. It’s a beard.”

  I wasn’t sure I agreed. You could still see the shape of his jawline. Surely that didn’t count as a beard? And quite suddenly I realized I was studying him while he stared back at me, apparently still trying not to laugh.

  “You seem awfully invested in the subject, darling?” she teased.

  I frowned and looked away. “I’m … I’m not.”

  “Ava’s right.” Caleb came to my rescue. “I told her myself I’m not really the clean-shaven type. That’s why she spoke up for me.”

  “Oh.” Patrice nodded, eyeballing us dubiously. “I see.”

  Oh God. “Time for dinner, I think.” Danby slid his arm along his wife’s waist to turn her back the way they’d come. “I’m starved.”

  “Yes, dinner, all right.” Patrice looked over her shoulder at us, but we waited a moment or two for them to get ahead of us.

  I felt Caleb’s hand on my lower back, gently nudging me forward, and I tried to shrug off my embarrassment. Apparently, he had no intention of letting me. “So what is it you like about the facial hair the most?”

  Hearing the repressed chuckle in his voice, I tensed. I felt vulnerable all of a sudden. Like I’d revealed to him something I hadn’t meant to. Perhaps I was discombobulated by the rush of affection I’d felt toward him earlier. I scolded myself for making more out of it than there was, realizing he basically already knew all there was to know about how I felt about him physically.

  I lowered my voice and glanced up to meet his gaze. “I like how it feels between my thighs. I’d prefer you keep it during your stay in Boston.”

  He inhaled sharply at my response. I felt Caleb’s hand fall away from my back and watched as he clenched his jaw. Finally, as we wove our way through the elegant, busy dining room with its domed ceiling lit by a magnificent crystal chandelier, he seemed to have gotten control of himself again.

  “Dinnae worry.” He bent his head to whisper. “I have no intention of shaving. Especially not now.”

  I grinned, a womanly grin of victory, which made his expression darken with want. He wrenched his gaze away and held out my seat for me at the table, just as Dan
by did for Patrice. I marveled at Caleb’s manners, wondering where they’d come from. First a thank you, now seating me at a table.

  My wonder was promptly halted when the waiter took our drink order and Caleb didn’t thank him. He proceeded to forget the words “please” and “thank you” throughout the meal, as always. However, it was less obvious because Patrice and Danby weren’t effusive with the words either, although they thanked the waitress as she cleared away our dessert plates.

  Still, preoccupied, I stared at Caleb, trying to figure him out. He could be so abrupt with people in a service position, and brusque in general, but he’d shown good manners to his hosts. Even toward me lately. Not that his manners bothered me so much anymore, I realized, a little shocked. It was just … Caleb. I was beginning to think he didn’t mean anything by it. He wasn’t the type of guy who was demonstrative in general, about anything, until we were in bed. In many ways, he was more reserved socially than even I was. “Taciturn” was probably a better word for it.

  His apparent lack of manners wasn’t an issue now because I felt I understood him better than I had before.

  Danby and Patrice were playfully arguing over who remembered the correct details of a story she’d been telling us about a vacation they’d taken in Aspen. Caleb took the opportunity to lean toward me. “You’re staring at me.”

  I answered honestly. “Your lack of please and thank yous don’t bother me anymore.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes and sat back in his chair. “You and your manners. You’re as bad as my sisters.”

  Sisters?

  Plural?

  “You have sisters?”

  Caleb nodded. “Two sisters.”

  “Really?” Patrice suddenly cut into our conversation. “I didn’t know that. Duncan never mentioned it. And where do you sit? Youngest, oldest, in the middle?”

  “I’m the oldest.”

  Which raised the question: what age was he? As if he read the question in my eyes, he offered, “I’m thirty-five.”