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“How’s BANK?” I ask him.
“Still standing.” His reply is quick and to the point. “What the fuck is going on?” he demands.
“Lauren and I are leaving. Can I take your car?” Cain stands and stares down at Perry.
“Sure.” His friend shrugs.
“No, we’re not,” I say loud enough for only our table to hear. “Sit down.”
“Lauren, we’re leaving. I’m not above making a scene, so unless you’re up for a challenge, don’t fucking try me.”
“Cain,” I plead.
“Now,” he demands. I flick a cautious glance around the table. Perry is grinning like a fucking hyena on the other side of the table. Kat is pressing her lips together to stop from laughing, and for once, Amberley looks gobsmacked, if not a little guilty.
I collect my bag and stand slowly. “Excuse me,” I whisper haughtily, hooking the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walking away at a speed I feel is neither too slow nor fast. As I breach the door, Cain cups my elbow and steers me towards the valet, who pulls up with Perry’s car. “That was embarrassing and completely unnecessary,” I grate.
“Yes, it was. Imagine being told you’re too rich to fuck,” he drawls as the doors open, and I stare, open-mouthed, as Cain loops around the bonnet and stands watching me from the other side. The valet slips from the vehicle. “Allow the nice man to escort you to your seat,” he mutters, and I jump into action, smiling at the valet who waits for me to secure my belt before he closes the door and Cain peels out of the circular drive.
We don’t talk on the journey. The radio is untouched, and although there is a world of noise happening outside, the car is a catacomb of silence. By the time we pull into the underground parking, I’m feeling even more foolish and awkward. Before I have a chance to open it myself, Cain walks to swing open my door.
“You're angry with me?”
“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with your friend, and I’m disappointed that after we spent a night together, you would use money as a reason to cover for your insecurities.”
“I’m not!” I snap, indignation hot in my voice.
“No?” He dips his head so we are face-to-face, inches apart, breath tangling together. I square my chin, but his eyes take the action in with a dazzle of amusement. “You admitted Amberley had shown you the article—you said I was stinking rich. I am.” He growls lightly. “I could secure a jet in less than a minute, be on it in twenty, and be balls fucking deep in the most expensive pussy the world could buy, and yet, I wanted to fucking spend the weekend with you,” he points out.
“I hardly need to hear about your weekend escapades,” I spit, my face aflame in light of his directness.
“I don’t have escapades, Lauren. I was spinning a fucking line. That’s what you read, right? That I could jet to Dubai and buy whatever I wanted ten times over? Or that lunch in a restaurant that you can’t afford is pocket change to me?”
“What is your point?”
“My point is, yes, I do have money.” His gaze burns like hot, glowing pokers. “But the only thing I wanted this weekend isn’t for sale. She doesn’t want to buy me either, and for once, just fucking once, I was glad to be able to enjoy a woman’s company for the simple fact that we share something that is priceless,” he hisses in my face. His eyes are an even deeper shade of blue as anger swirls, whipping up a storm, and my mouth turns down, feeling shameful and small. He’s talking about our chemistry, the tangible rush crackling and buzzing between us, the desperate need we feel to devour one another in those intimate moments when not a soul but us is watching, and we can see nothing but each other. It’s an addictive feeling. A dangerous drug nature created, and indulging does not cure it, and distance would not dismiss it either. It’s without visibility and louder than any explosion.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Do you think if I cared about our differences, I would be entertaining this attraction?”
“I said I was sorry. Amberley wouldn’t shut up about you on the way over, and it freaked me out,” I admit, swallowing thickly. “I was reading the article, and she was going on about all this stuff she had read online”—his face shutters, and I grip his arm—“and I know, I know not everything the media shares is true, and that this is a…a..it’s a—”
“Weekend heist.” His lips finally develop their usual curve as he smiles softly and intimately.
“Yes, but you are painfully rich, and for a short time, I forgot all that…forgot you are my boss. Seeing the article. Hearing her. I panicked. What if someone finds out? I could lose my job. I’m doing okay for myself. I like London. I don’t want to jeopardise the small life I’m creating for myself.”
Cain drops to his hunches, unclips my belt, twists me in my seat, and cups my bottom. “I wouldn’t let that happen, Lauren. I may not know you all that well, but I do respect you enough to ensure nothing like that would happen. Next time, before you read anything, ask me.”
Nodding, I roll my teeth along my lower lip. “Please don’t be mad at Amberley.”
“She’s lucky she still has her job,” he rattles before helping me to stand and threading our fingers. I drop to stare at our linked hands as he locks the car and begins walking us to the elevator. His fingers are long enough that they envelop mine and hold my hand in a soft shackle. His thumb is lazily rolling across my skin, dancing on my pulses and tickling my palm. When we step inside, he pulls me to his chest and drops to kiss my mouth softly. “Us,” he begins quietly as we ascend, “has been a welcome surprise and one I shouldn’t act on. I’m violating more than one policy and setting a really awful example by indulging in you.”
I let him press a short but sweet kiss on my mouth. “I’m not expecting more from you. I knew what this was…is,” I correct. “I’m not in the market for a relationship, and I hope, come Monday, we can remain professional. I really do love working at the hotel, Cain.” I hold his gaze, hold it long enough to fight the haze of desire and ensure he hears me and believes the truth in my words.
“Out of all of my employees, my assistant included, your job is the only one I have a vested interest in. You’re putting yourself at risk, but your job is safe, Lauren.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
