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His hard stare continued, his thoughts locked behind the vault of his stare. “It’s nothing personal.”
“But it is personal because I’m the woman who sleeps with you.” I should just let this go, but he didn’t fuck me like a client fucked a hooker. He’d made love to me on and off for an hour, our eyes locked, our bodies writhing in passion. The connection between us was undeniable, but he continued to dismiss it.
“Camille, I am who I am, and I’m not going to change.”
“You’ve changed everything else…for me.”
He broke eye contact, as if ashamed. “But not this. Like I said, it’s nothing personal. I just have issues. You’d think you’d understand after I told you my entire family has betrayed me at some point.”
“I didn’t mean to sound insensitive—”
“Selfish. That’s the word you’re looking for.” He left the bed and pulled on his bottoms.
I winced like I’d been slapped, and then I was out of bed and at the door. “I just care about you so much, Cauldron—”
“Camille.” Somehow he silenced me just by saying my name. There was so much power in his voice, undeniable power. “I’ve never slept beside a woman. I can’t remember the last time I kissed a woman before you. You have more of me than anyone else ever has. Don’t demand more of me than I can give—because I’ve already given you what I can.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
His stare lingered for a moment before he walked out the door.
I let him go.
THIRTY
CAULDRON
Camille left me alone for most of the day.
I went about my daily routine, hitting the gym first thing in the morning then having breakfast before I started my workday. She kept herself busy as I stayed in my office, getting all the details from Jeremiah’s replacement. I hit Grave’s business hard, and he hit mine back just as hard. We were both in free fall but neither willing to hit the brakes.
World’s biggest pissing contest.
Toward the end of the afternoon, she stepped into the study. In a red skirt and ruffled top with sandals, she approached my desk and took a seat. She waited for me to finish typing and meet her gaze. “You’re still mad at me.”
“Mad, yes. But not at you.”
“What are you mad at?”
“Everything.” I sat back in my chair and propped my elbow on the armrest. My fingers curled into a fist and slid underneath my jawline. Still, I stared at her, enjoying the sight of her face with minimal makeup. Her eyes were bright on this warm fall day.
She let the word echo in our minds for a while before she spoke. “I’m sorry about last night.”
I continued to stare. Her looks always hypnotized me, the way she could express so much with so little. Her features were delicate, but her eyes could burn hotter than a bonfire of banned books.
“I just…” She looked down at her intertwined hands in her lap before she met my look again. “I want more.”
I knew exactly what she wanted.
“We’ve become so close. I don’t mean to rush things, but we’ve become inseparable, and I guess…I want you as often as I can have you. If I’m the woman you sleep with, I don’t see why I can’t be the woman you go to sleep with every night.”
Instead of an apology, it seemed like another request.
She looked at me expectantly because it was my turn to say something.
“This started as an arrangement, and I haven’t gotten past that yet.”
Her eyebrows furrowed, turning her beautiful appearance into a quizzical one. “We’ve established this is a lot more than an arrangement—”
“But that doesn’t mean I know what it is yet.”
A glimmer of fire moved into her eyes.
“Pushing me isn’t going to get you your answer any quicker.”
She kept her silence, but her look suggested she had more to say.
We sat there for a long time, the tension like a heavy perfume that burned the nostrils.
“I’ll be gone for a while this evening.”
“Where are you going?”
“To a dinner party.”
“Why aren’t you taking me?” she asked, the accusation audible.
“Because I’m going to get your necklace back.”
Grave was hosting a dinner party as a fundraiser for some disease awareness.
Ironic, huh?
I knew the real purpose of these events—to get clients. It was France’s best-kept secret that Grave was in the trafficking business, and anyone who needed a kidney or wanted to display a set of eyeballs on their mantel knew who to call. Surgeons left their practices because they were paid triple their previous salary.
After a quick flight to Paris, I pulled up to the front of his home. The lit chandeliers were visible in the high windows, and the music from the piano was in my wars the second the car door cracked open. Couples in cocktail dresses and tuxedos crowded the enormous front doors as they made their way inside. It was just like any other fancy party. After a while, they all started to look the same.
