Page 38 of Flawless Desire


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I laugh. “Sure, that would go down well with the tabloids,” I tease. “Sterling heir caught in bistro romp.”

“Romp…” he repeats. “I always liked that word. So full of promise.”

I laugh again, and take a drink of water.

See? I can do this. Just some casual chat and good food. Nothing to worry about.

“So tell me about you,” I say, once we’ve placed our orders. “What did you do before taking over the company?”

I’m expecting him to act like every other guy, and fill the rest of the night with a monologue about his life, but Caleb shakes his head.

“I didn’t invite you to dinner to talk about myself. I want to know about you. Where are you from?”

I shrug. “It’s not at all that exciting. I’m from Leonia.”

“Ah. A Jersey girl.”

I smile. “Don’t hold it against me. I went to school here, then moved to Chicago for a job after college.”

“A great city. What brought you back here then?”

I pause. “Family things,” I say diplomatically. “My mom… Well, it was better that I was close by. Anyway,” I say brightly. “Did you always have an interest in jewelry?”

If Caleb notices me trying to change the subject, he’s too polite to say.

“Not always,” he replies, sipping his wine. “To tell the truth, there was a time when I’d rather do anything else. Growing up, it felt more like a death sentence, my father made it clear I had no other option but to take over. He had me go into the office with him, every Saturday, while the rest of the kids at school were playing ball. Hanging out with friends. Having normal childhoods.” He gives me a self-deprecating smile. “Being a Sterling was never normal.”

“Is that why you rebelled?” I ask boldly. He raises an eyebrow. “I may have done a little research, before the interview,” I admit. “Apparently you had quite the wayward youth.”

That’s one way of putting it. Parties in Ibiza. Yacht races off the coast of St Tropez. Caleb was a major party boy, with a supermodel in every port.

Most guys might brag about that, but Caleb gives a rueful laugh. “I made some mistakes, trying to figure things out. But when my parents died… Well, I grew up fast. I realized the responsibility they left me could be a blessing, not a curse.”

I see that shadow in his eyes again, the one I’d seen when he was looking at the photograph. But just as smoothly, Caleb takes a forkful of the terrine and holds it out to me. “Try, it’s delicious.”

He brings the fork to my lips and I taste the rich pate. “Delicious.” I agree, and soon our entrees have arrived, and we’re trading stories of our favorite dishes from around the city: everything from the perfect corner stand hot-dog to the best two a.m. dumplings.

Caleb pauses a moment and looks at me. “How does it feel?” he asks, his voice low.

I look at him questioningly.

“To know you have me in the palm of your hand.”

I give him a dubious look. “Nice try,” I tell him lightly.

“You don’t believe me?” Caleb leans closer. “Every time I look at you, all I can think is what I would be doing if we were alone… The obscene things I could show you.”

My heart stutters in my chest.

“Caleb. You promised.” I try to sound scolding.

“What did I promise?”

“That you wouldn’t proposition me in the middle of a crowded restaurant.”

He gives me a wicked smile. “Unless you liked it. Would you, Juliet?” His breath is hot in my ear. He runs a fingertip down my bare arm, bringing goosebumps to the surface. “Because I think you would. I think you’re already wet for me.”

Oh God.

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