“I told myself to cut ties with you until this is all over.” He prods some chicken and chews it thoughtfully. “I’m all about the weekend heists.”
“I’m assuming you’re telling me this because you truly want this to go somewhere and not because we have some serious chemistry,” I say, blunt but soft.
“I want this to go somewhere, Lauren,” he confirms.
I close the space and press my mouth to his. I cut off the fear, the anxiety of being caught, and the uncertainty that being with him brings. Him trusting me with this information alone is hugely flattering. A bond passed between us during the weekend we spent together—it was unspoken and too precious to ignore. Thick arms wind around my back, lifting me to straddle his legs. His rich, woody aftershave snakes around us, and I breathe it in.
This isn’t a mistake.
Whatever this is, it’s real. It's delicate, but it’s real.
“Royce is a complication I don’t want for you,” Cain rasps woodenly. His lips rub along my hair. “I need you to expect the worst. He’s predictable, but I'm pushing him into a corner, and he will get nasty. I don’t want him making a beeline for you.” Cain tilts his head and pecks my mouth. My mind is catapulted to another man who made a beeline for me. Henrik. I have no doubts that Martin is aware of his father’s blackmail. The fact that Cain is concerned about the outcome and not assisting in it has the knot of unease in my stomach unravelling. I almost blurt out the truth behind my move to London, but I swallow the words back down, hiding the truth because that's my fight to win. Although, withholding leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Cain is laying his cards on the table, and I have mine neatly tucked away. Now wrapped in a bow of guilt.
“We just need to be careful,” I remind him and myself. If our involvement gets out, not only will it jeopardise my job, but it is a complication I know Cain can’t afford to deal with right now.
“Am I forgiven for my prickish ways?” he hums between kisses.
“I will deny all knowledge of what I am about to say, but,”—he grins against my mouth—“I somewhat like your prickish ways.”
“I fucking knew it,” he declares proudly. “Every prick needs a prick tamer.” His eyes glitter, and I bite my lip.
“They do. Although I refuse to work a probationary period,” I stipulate my terms.
“Agreed. Anything else?”
“Staff meetings are to be conducted in the buff.” I peek up at him.
His smile is almost jumping off his face. “Naturally.” He nips at my jawline and groans deeply when I wriggle to get closer. “Daily reports are of the oral variety,” he counteracts.
“Seems fair.” I dip my head, giving him full access to my neck.
“And I want that ass.” Large hands grip my bottom and squeeze.
I squeak with uncertainty.
“I’m having it,” he confirms, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. So much for trying to set boundaries and play it safe. Amberley knew I would give in. I should be ashamed, but I feel compelled to be around Cain. He is far nicer than the reports and articles detail him to be.
The man I have here is one I get to myself.
His fingers give another determined squeeze of my bum. “Negotiations can start tomorrow.”
I pout.
“I’m a ruthless prick—business with me could get physical,” he warns playfully.
“I don’t doubt it.” I run my fingers into his hair. “Take me to bed.”
“Do I need taming?” Full lips quirk up at one side. I can’t help it as I lean in and kiss him, moaning happily.
“You wish.” I hum against his mouth. “You look knackered. You need sleep.”
“Shower with me first?”
Chapter25
Cain
Danvers is detailing each offence and how we can build a case against Royce. We have a meeting first thing Monday at Ivory Corp, and as soon as we hand the evidence over to the police, Royce is going to be wishing he never left St. Lucia. He was safer there. I know he returned home yesterday, and that he had an emergency meeting with his own lawyer.