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“Probably,” he said. “But when specifically?”
“Back when we first met. You rather crudely told me I looked like a woman who hadn’t been properly f—”
Cain’s smile dropped, and he touched his fingers to her mouth to stop her words. “Don’t. Don’t, Duchess. That’s not what this was.”
Her breath caught. “It wasn’t?”
Slowly, he shook his head.
She laid her head back down, and as she drifted off into sated sleep, she could have sworn she heard him mutter, I only wish that’s all it was.
* * *
Violet awoke on her stomach, sticky Mardi Gras beads plastered to her chest and a warm hand stroking her bare back.
“Duchess,” Cain said softly. “You’ve gotta get up. You’ve got to get going if you don’t want to miss your flight.”
Groggily, Violet lifted her head, blinking her way through the sleep fog, then scrambling upright when she realized:
She’d overslept.
She was naked.
Cain was not.
He’d said she was going to miss her flight.
She fumbled around for her shirt, and remembering that it was on the floor, settled for pulling the pillow in front of her.
“Aren’t you coming? I thought we were taking the same flight.”
Cain shook his head. “I need to stay here another day. Wrap up a couple things.”
Violet’s stomach plummeted. “Oh. I could stay with you…”
Cain avoided her eyes. “I’ll be busy most of the time. I won’t have any time to entertain you.”
Entertain me?
Her hurt must have shown on her face because he tiredly rubbed at his forehead. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just… pacify Edith for me, will you? Tell her I’ll be back tomorrow?”
Seriously? Edith wasn’t the type to be pacified, and even if she were, Cain wasn’t the type to bother with the nicety.
“I can tell when I’m being placated, Cain,” Violet said softly. “You really needn’t bother. You warned me last night what this was. I just didn’t think you’d be the one to freak out afterward.”
His jaw clenched. “I’m not freaking out. I just have some business to take care of.”
She nodded and didn’t push him, because if she’d learned anything from the past month with this man, it was that he needed to do things his way, on his own timeline.
“All right,” she said simply, scooting toward the edge of the bed and swinging her legs to the ground. “How long will it take to get to the airport? Do I have time for a shower?”
He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “If you make it fast.”
Violet nodded, then purposely dropped the pillow and strolled naked across to the bathroom, smirking a little when she heard his stifled groan.
When she came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, hair still damp, her suitcase was open on his bed, neatly packed, and he was waiting with a cup of coffee in hand. In a to-go cup.
She laughed as she shook her head and accepted the cup. “Okay, Cain. I get it.”
“You get what?”
“Your sendoff is pointed, but props for being considerate too.” She lifted the coffee cup.
“Look, I thought I made it clear—”
“No, no, you did,” she interrupted as she tucked her toiletry bag into her suitcase, then zipped it. “No big dog, no flowers, no happily-ever-after. I heard you, and I respect it.”
“Good. So long as we’re on the same page.” Cain nodded as he said it, though he looked more frustrated than relieved.
“Absolutely, same page.” She wheeled her suitcase to the front door. “I’ll call an Uber from outside.”
“Duchess—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she said, smiling to show him she meant it. “But if I can just say one thing?”
He hesitated, then nodded warily.
“We’ll do things your way, but”—Violet went to her toes and brushed her lips lightly over his—“your way seems awfully lonely.”
Then Violet grabbed her coffee, her suitcase, and left Cain Stone alone with his thoughts.
Twenty-Five
Damn, you are pulling out some baller moves,” Ashley said approvingly over lunch. “You said that? In those exact words?”
“Yup,” Violet said smugly.
“Have you heard from Cain since?”
“Nope.” Violet picked up her menu. “Edith mentioned that he’s back, but he hasn’t texted.”
“He’s scared,” Ashley said in a confident, matter-of-fact tone.
“Of?” Violet asked skeptically.
“Of you! You should see yourself the past couple of weeks. You’re like a whole other woman. Fierce and fabulous.”
“I admit, I feel fierce,” Violet admitted. “But I didn’t realize it was that obvious. It’s not like I bought myself leather pants and black lipstick. I’m still wearing the same dresses, same pearls, same lip gloss I’ve been wearing since college.”
“Because it’s the right lip gloss, and the right wardrobe for you,” Ashley said. “External makeovers can’t hold a candle to internal ones, and to answer your question, yes, yours shows, and I for one am all for it.”
Violet smiled. “Wish you’d shared that little insight about makeovers with me before I tried to change Cain into a stuffy suit. I can hardly blame him for keeping me at arm’s length.”
