Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom

by Magda Alexander

  I flip us so she’s beneath, grab the condom from her hand and roll it over me. “I wouldn’t have liked it if you’d fucked another man.”

  She caresses my cheek. “I haven’t. You’re the only one I’ve been with.”

  Before I take her again, I need to taste her essence. I kiss my way down her stomach, lick around her belly button and nibble my way down to her mons. She’s wet and about to get wetter. I smile against her trimmed patch. Her intimate curls glisten a dark auburn.

  “What?”

  “I used to wonder what color you were.”

  “And now you know.”

  “Yes.”

  I dip my tongue into her folds and she moans. When I nip her hot button, she screams.

  “Come into me, Sterling. Please.”

  I do since we both want the same thing. She’s hot and oh-so-eager for me. It doesn’t take long before she reaches her climax and for me to reach mine as well. I can’t get enough of her. Never have, never will. Thoroughly pleased with myself and her, I fall asleep to the sound of her heart beating beneath me.

  But when I wake in the morning, she’s gone.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Caitlyn

  Sunday morning after walking out on Sterling, I indulge in a crying jag at my East End apartment. My roommate, a medical resident at Lenox Hill Hospital, is on duty so I don’t expect to see her until the next day. Thank God, because I really do not want to get grilled by her. Puffy eyes and a hangdog look tend to bring out the overprotective doctor in her.

  The next day, I march toward my cubicle, determined to focus on my assignments at work. If I do, maybe my mind won’t dwell on my disastrous life. But seemingly the universe has made other plans.

  “Sterling MacKay? You know Sterling MacKay?” Claudia, hands propped on her hips bars the entrance to my space.

  Going around her, I unlock the drawer where I stash my valuables and drop in my purse before I answer her. “Yes. How did you find out?”

  “At the charity dinner, I saw the two of you practically racing for the exit.”

  “I used to work as his assistant.”

  She jams her arms across her front. “And you didn’t tell me? We could have talked him into investing with us. They’d hand you the key to the Executive Washroom if he signed on as a client.”

  “I could never do that,” I say, shaking my head.

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t.” She gives me the hairy eyeball. “Look it’s none of my business, but you don’t look too good.”

  Guess the makeup has done nothing to camouflage my puffy eyes. “Coming down with something. The flu, I think.”

  She huffs. “It’s summer. People don’t get the flu in the summer.”

  “A cold then.”

  “Uh huh. So after you knocked boots in his room, did he kick you to the curb?”

  My breath catches in my throat. How dare she insinuate such a thing? “I’m done with this conversation.”

  In a snit, she hightails it to her side of the cubicle. But the damage is done. Our coworkers probably heard every word. So much for flying under the radar today.

  At the end of the day, on the way home I grab some noodles from Mr. Wong’s hoping to hole up in my room and watch reruns of my favorite show. But I’m not so lucky. I step through the door to find Trista putting a pan of lasagna in the oven. Which means her boyfriend is coming over for dinner. He loves the stuff.

  She takes one look at my face and asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. Just tired. I guess.”

  “You’re not coming down with something, are you?” She rests the back of her hand on my forehead.

  Takes me back to my childhood days when my mother did the same to gauge my body temperature. “No. I just want to eat dinner and go to bed.”

  “It’s only six o’clock. Greg’s coming over dinner. Why don’t you join us? It will do you good.”

  It’s that last bit of kindness that does me in. I burst into tears.

  “Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” She embraces me, and the aroma of yeasty bread envelops me, something that says love to me.

  “Sterling.” I snuffle into her shoulder.

  “Your old boss.”

  Affronted, I step back. “He’s not old!”

  Her full lips quirk in a smile. “Former boss then.”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened?”

  “The charity dinner I attended last week?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “He was there.”

  “And?”

  “He invited me to his room to talk.”

  She studies me for a couple of seconds. “And you did more than talking.”

  No surprise she figured it out from a quick glance. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions. “Yes.”

  “So why this hangdog attitude? Wait.” She squints at me. “He didn’t kick you out the door as soon as you were done, did he?”

  “No.” I focus on the floor, not wanting to see her reaction when I say the next words. “I walked out on him.”

  “Why?”

  My gaze darts back to her. “Because I’m in love with him,” I yell. There I’ve finally admitted my feelings for Sterling. Something I’ve denied since Hong Kong.

  “I would think that’s a reason to stay, not leave.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “Enlighten me then. Here.” She pulls back one of the chairs from the kitchen dinette set and pats the seat. “Sit and tell me all about it.”

  I wave my hand at the stove. Whatever she’s cooking smells delicious. “You don’t have time to listen, not with making dinner and all.”

  “The lasagna is in the oven, and Greg won’t be here for forty minutes. Now stop stalling and tell me.”

  In fits and starts, the sorry story pours out of me. She already knows I worked for Sterling, but I never shared anything else. So I give her the PG version of what happened in the library, the first time we made love, our trip to Hong Kong. And most importantly, the lies I told him when I left.

  “So you left him so he would have the surgery?”

  “Yes. I wasn’t sure he would, but I hoped.” I wipe the moisture from my face.

  “And he can see now?”

  “Yes. The operation was a success.” Which tells me I did the right thing.

  She reaches out and pats my hands which are resting on my lap. “Honey. You have to tell him.”

  “Tell him what?”

  “The truth. Something still exists between the two of you.”

  “He’ll never believe me, Trista.”

  “You’ll never know unless you try. You’ve been miserable for the last six months. And it’s because of the way you broke things off with him. Tell him the reason you left. If he’s the man you think he is, he’ll believe you.”

  “No. He won’t. His former fiancee only wanted him for his money. After his accident, she walked out on him. He thinks I did the same. I stayed with him only long enough for my boyfriend to find me a job. As soon as he did, I hightailed it to New York with the money I’d earned.”

  “But you never had a boyfriend!”

  “He doesn’t know that. And there’s one more reason I can’t tell him the truth. He hates liars. So I’m damned if I tell him and damned if I don’t.” I twist my hands on my lap.

  “Whatever happened six months ago, he still wants you if he took you up to his room.”

  “That’s different. It’s just … sex. He wants me. He always did.” That craving, that hunger for me is still there, even if I don’t understand why it’s so.

  “So build on that. Maybe it will turn into something more.”

  I shake my head. “It can never be serious. He wants a fiancee from his social class, not someone with a blue collar background.”

  “Maybe he no longer wants that.”

  “Doubt it.”

  The doorbell rings.

  “That’s probably Greg,” I say, glancing toward the door.

&nb
sp; She peeks at her watch. “He’s early.”

  “He probably wants to talk some more about you moving in together.” He’d brought it up the last time he visited.

  Her cheeks pink up. “You heard?”

  “You can hear anything through these walls.”

  “We haven’t decided anything yet.”

  “You should. He’s one of the good ones. Don’t let him get away.” Living together would make sense. With their crazy schedules, they don’t see each other that much.

  “If he moves in, where would you go? I worry about you.”

  I shrug. “I’ll find somewhere else to live. Lots of places in Manhattan.”

  Probably none as convenient as this one or one with a roommate as nice as her. Standing, I thumb toward my room. “I’ll go shower.” Picking up my carry out, I trudge to my room. I spend the rest of the evening crying. Not even Mr. Wong’s crispy fried noodles make a dent on my pain.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sterling

  The trip to Peru culminates in another successful partnership with a company whose products will feed millions all over the world. At the rate we’re growing, I’ll soon need to establish other bases of operations in South America and Europe. Brandon Lattimer would make a great European branch chief. Unfortunately that means I would have to get a new VP of Finance. He will be hard to replace. He’s not only great at his job, but a trusted friend. But I can’t hold him back. Now that I’ve regained my sight, I need to give him the promotion he richly deserves. I take a deep breath, let it go.

  The flight back to D.C. gives me plenty of time to think about Caitlyn and the reason why she ran out on me at the hotel. The sex was as explosive as always. And I made damn sure she enjoyed it. So that’s not the reason she hightailed it. But what do I want from her? That’s the million dollar question. She betrayed me, abandoned me, lied to me. Something inside me howls. It just doesn’t track. Could she have been lying to me all along? Or did she lie to me at the end? Making up a sorry excuse of a tale so she could get away from me and my endless list of wants?

  Well, there’s one way to find out. I dial my security chief and ask him to investigate her background, her current employment in New York, her personal life. I want to know everything about her, from the moment she was born to right now. He assures me it will take only a couple of days to conduct the investigation. He’s true to his word. Within 48 hours his report lands on my desk.

  Everything she said about her past is true.

  After her father was killed by a drunk driver, her mother raised her alone. And just like she said, her mother died from breast cancer a couple of months before Cait came to work for me. The heavy burden of her mother’s medical bills pushed her to take on my personal assistant job and to put up with me and my demands. I cringe when I think of what she went through. There’s no excuse for the way I treated her at the beginning, and yet, she put up with it all with grace and even humor at times.

  But the biggest surprise is the lie she made up about the boyfriend. She didn’t quit to rejoin him. The one she’d had in college wasn’t even in New York. He’d moved to San Francisco a year before. She stayed in a hostel for the first few days until she found an apartment-sharing situation on the Upper East Side. The place appears to be in a decent location. Thank God for that. She now works for an investment company in midtown Manhattan, one which manages several funds. Apparently, she got the job on her own with no help from a boyfriend or anyone else. Only her own merits. God knows they never called me for a reference.

  The facts beg the question. Why did she leave me when she had nothing, no one to go to? Did she finally get fed up with all my demands? Or was there another reason? Wait. She’d come to the charity dinner in New York. When I first saw her there, she’d been talking to Dr. Testa. Had they met before? They’d talked to each other. That much I know. He’d called the house several times complaining about my missed appointments. Had he said something to her that had prompted her leaving me? Well, there’s only one way to find out.

  I flip open my cell and dial Dr. Testa’s office. I’m told he’s busy with a patient, but will call me back as soon as he can. An hour later, he does.

  “Sterling. How are you?”

  “No problems. I’m fine, Marcello. I have a question. About Caitlyn Bennett.”

  His breath whooshes out. “I knew it was only a matter of time before you put two and two together.”

  “You talked to her? About me?”

  “Yes.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “The truth. That you were refusing the operation. That you were satisfied with the way things were at home, at work and you saw no need for the surgery.” He sounds apologetic and sure of his convictions at the same time. A rare combination to say the least.

  But no matter what he sounds like, what he believed at the time, I have to know. “Did you pressure her to leave?”

  “No. As God is my witness, Sterling, I never asked her to do that.” I believe him. He’s telling the truth.

  I hang up, more confused than ever. Did her discussion with Dr. Testa prompt her to leave? Or is it as I fear that she got fed up with me? There’s only one way to find out the truth. I have to talk to Caitlyn. I push the office button to get Anton.

  “Mr. MacKay?”

  “Call my pilot. Tell him to get the plane ready. Tomorrow I’m flying to New York.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Caitlyn

  Two weeks after my heart to heart with Trista, my six-month review comes up. I fully expect to be let go which is god-awful timing since Trista invited Greg to move in and I need a new place to live. My lease is up at the end of the month. Oh, Trista won’t kick me out, but I feel like a third wheel when they’re in the apartment making googly eyes at each other. And the walls are thin which means I can hear everything they do in her room. I’ll need to find a place soon, something which will be darn near impossible if I’m let go.

  To my surprise, my boss praises my work-solid research, insightful knowledge of stocks and the market, my recommendations nothing but winners. When he tells me I’m on the short list for a senior financial analyst position, I’m shocked to say the least. I’m torn by this turn of events. On the one hand, my job’s assured. On the other, I can’t see doing this job for another six weeks, much less the next six years. But I nod, pin on a bright smile, and exit the office.

  When I return to my cubicle, Claudia’s there breathing dragon fire. “You snake.”

  “What?”

  “You said you wouldn’t talk Sterling MacKay into investing with us.”

  “I didn’t.” I hadn’t even told him where I worked.

  “Well, guess who just became one of our investors?”

  “Sterling?”

  “Oh, it’s Sterling now. Should have known. You screwed me over, Ms. Butter-won’t-melt-in-your-mouth.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She bares her teeth as her upper lip curls. “Barry pulled me into his office this morning and told me I’m no longer a candidate for a senior financial analyst position. I can only guess who is.”

  Great. She’s not getting what she wants while I’ll probably get what I don’t. “I’m sorry. Maybe if I talk to him?”

  “Don’t bother. At least I tried to do it on my own merit, not fuck my lover to get him to invest with the firm. Way to get a promotion.”

  “I didn’t-”

  She flashes the ‘talk to the hand’ gesture. “Don’t bother. I don’t believe you and neither will anybody else after I tell them what a slut you are.”

  She’s not kidding. By the end of the day, I’m getting nasty looks from half the staff on my floor. When five o’clock comes around, I punch out on my computer, grab my purse and head out. I’m so immersed in my own thoughts I don’t notice the limo parked in front of our building until Sterling steps out of it in a killer three-piece gray suit the exact match to his eyes.

  Shocked as I am, I come to a d
ead stop, blocking those exiting from the building. Someone bumps into me, and I end up sailing into him. Thankfully he catches me before I face plant on the sidewalk.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, gazing into his steel-hued eyes.

  “Taking you to dinner, I hope.” His sexy voice curls around my spine.

  My bare skin tingles where his restless hands caress my upper arms. When he insinuates a finger beneath the open sleeve of my dress, I grow liquid. If he keeps this up, I’m likely to climax right here on the spot. “Dinner?” I whisper.

  “Yes. I made a reservation at Le Cirque. It’s not until eight, though. Maybe we can go to my hotel and talk?”

  “Talk?” God. I’ve turned into a one-syllable idiot.

  His mouth curls into that sexy grin I love, the one that makes mush out of me. “Yes. Get in, Caitlyn.” He points to the leather seat in the back of the car.

  I’ve missed him so much I don’t even think about saying no. “I’ll need to stop by my apartment and pick up a change of clothes.”

  “No need. Your roommate was very accommodating when I explained I was stealing you away for the weekend. She packed a bag for you, including one of your cocktail gowns. Everything’s in the trunk.”

  How does he know where I live? I never told him. But it wouldn’t have taken him long to find out. Not with the investigators he employs at his company. And Trista handed over my clothes and things without question. That’s just the sort of thing she would do. She knows all about him after all.

  After I slip into the limo, he explains he’s made a reservation for me at the Waldorf Astoria spa so they can pamper me before our dinner date. Spa, dinner date? What’s going on? I walked out on him last time we met. He shouldn’t be this nice. Is he hoping for another round of hot sex? Going by that smile on his face, that would be a big fat yes. And to tell you the truth, so am I.

  At the spa, I opt for the full body massage. They work their magic and by the end of the hour I’m stress free. Back in the room he’s reserved for the weekend, he points to the bedroom where my clothes await. I barely have enough time to dress and put on my makeup before he whisks me down to the limo and out to Le Cirque.