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“I’m fine,” she assured him.
Caradoc’s face gave little away. An expert negotiator, he found it easy now to disguise the torrent of emotion that was flooding him. “Muller,” he spoke with a firm dismissiveness. “I see you’ve met Finn.”
His words were a warning, but to whom? Finn or Cristoff?
“Caradoc,” Cristoff held a hand out and the men shook, but it was a gesture that was devoid of any warmth or affection. He dropped Caradoc’s hand almost immediately, then turned back towards Finn with a smile meant solely for her. “Yeah. You could say she caught my eye.”
Finn’s skin prickled with a sense of danger. Though Caradoc didn’t react in any way, she felt a charge of feeling from him, and she knew that he was battling a sense of antipathy. Oh, not over her! She meant nothing to him –certainly if Cristoff’s reports were to be believed – but it was obvious that these two men had a history rich with dislike and enmity.
“She would catch anyone’s eye,” Caradoc dismissed, and though it should have been flattering, Finn didn’t feel that it was a compliment. “Thank you for keeping my place warm, but I’m here now, and I’d like to take my date home.”
“Your date?” Cristoff’s lip curled in a small twist of derision. “Oh, dear.” His eyes flashed towards Finn, and she knew what he was thinking. What he must be experiencing! He’d said far more than he should have, and yet now, confronted with the truth, he looked pleased rather than abashed.
“A problem?” Caradoc asked smoothly. His eyes roamed Finn’s face and drifted lower to her exposed décolletage. With a small frown he shrugged out of his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. The gesture jarred Finn’s sense of reality, for it was kind and thoughtful, and Caradoc most certainly was not.
“No,” she shook her head, and her smile came easily when she faced Cristoff. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
Cristoff opened his mouth to say something, perhaps to impart a cheap shot at Caradoc and make him sweat a little, but he evidently thought better of it. Putting Finn in the middle of their dislike would achieve nothing. “It was a pleasure meeting you tonight, Finn,” he said, returning to German.
She responded in kind. “Likewise. Thanks for keeping me company.”
His eyes glowed, and again, Finn had the impression he was about to say something. But he shrugged and turned, moving back towards the hotel with an elegant gait.
They were alone. At least, it felt that way, though cars were zipping past and people were everywhere. Finn stared at Caradoc, and her heart sunk to her toes. Because she knew then that, with all his faults, he was a man unlike any she’d ever known, and unlike any she’d know again. She knew that her body wasn’t the only part of her that was engaged in this affair. It was her heart. Her damned foolish heart had fallen headlong into love with him, and Finn was powerless to ignore it.
“Do you want to go home?”
His eyes were dark, they glowed like the night sky. His grey hair was silver ink in the moonlight. His chest, broad and muscled, his body so virile, everything about him was fuelling her need.
“Finn?” His eyes flickered, for the briefest moments, with something akin to worry. Doubt. Caution.
She swallowed. So what if he had an ex? So what if he did still love the beautiful Marlena? That was nothing to do with Finn. Caradoc had never made her any promises. Well, not beyond this week, at least. One week was all he’d invited her to Manhattan for. And she was glad for that. At least, she should have been. After all, she had a life back home. And a job!
But suddenly, the thought of one week with Caradoc was suffocating her. If she thought of it as a finite length of time, a piece of string rather than an elastic with endless give, she wanted to curl up into a ball.
“Has that jackass upset you?” Caradoc demanded finally, his voice laced with impatience.
Finn shook her head. She knew that if she spoke, her words would be stained with tears.
“Finn? Damn it, what’s going on?”
She had to answer him. Caradoc didn’t suffer fools and her muted silence was obviously foolish. “Nothing,” she shook her head jerkily.
He was far from convinced, but all he wanted was to get Finn back into his apartment. Alone. It had been a stupid idea to bring her to something as banal as this party. “Good. Then let’s go.”
“Caradoc, it’s your mother’s birthday. We’re not going anywhere.”
His eyes moved beyond Finn to the hotel beyond. “My mother will be fine. I’ve had about as much as I can take of that group tonight.”
“But … your absence will be noted.”
He shrugged. “So?”
Finn didn’t know why she was pushing him so hard. After all, she didn’t relish the prospect of returning to the event. “I don’t want you to leave just because of me.”
Caradoc reached over and stroked her cheek. “I don’t do anything for anyone, Finn. I do what I want. And all I’ve wanted to do since I slid that dress over your beautiful body is to remove it again.” He dropped his hand to the stitching of the bodice, running an insolent finger along her flesh, to the valley of her breasts. Her intake of breath showed her surprise, and he smiled slowly.
“How can I spend any more time making small talk when you are waiting for me?”
