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Bad girl. You’ll be punished later.
The promise is driving me wild.
Whatever he has in mind, I’m itching for it, thirsting for it. And while I desperately want him to feel the same, he seems fine to keep me waiting, and all too happy to play this social game.
But appearances can be deceiving. He told me he hates these things.
And unruffled as he looks, maybe he’s just as giddy with anticipation as I am.
“Gallagher!” Finally, Caleb greets someone with what sounds like genuine enthusiasm. It’s a man around his age, with a shock of curly hair and a tan suit. They shake hands and slap each other on the back. “This is my buddy Jonathan,” he introduces us. “I’ve known him since I was a kid.”
“But don’t expect me to tell any embarrassing stories,” Jonathan greets me with a smile. “I’m bound by attorney-client privilege.”
“You better be,” Caleb chuckles. “The amount you bill.”
“You have to pay for the best.” Jonathan grins at me, the first genuine smile I’ve received here all night. “Now, who’s this lovely lady, and why haven’t I heard about her before?”
“This is Juliet,” Caleb replies—and doesn’t elaborate.
I wish he would. At least then, I would have a clue how he sees me this evening. As his assistant? Date?
Conquest?
Jonathan doesn’t seem to notice the vagueness of my introduction—or maybe he’s used to Caleb showing up with a different woman every day of the week. “Lovely to meet you,” he says. “And also, you have my sympathies, being dragged to a boring shindig like this. I hope Caleb makes it up to you later.”
Caleb gives me a burning look. “I’m planning on it.”
We sit down to dinner,with a group of people discussing Aspen, and Palm Beach, and the merits of skiing versus sunshine at the holidays. Caleb gamely plays along, commenting on St Barts, and holding forth about lodge construction costs in Montana. I can’t believe the ease with which he can play pretend, but maybe this is a side of his personality I just haven’t seen before.
Then his hand sneaks under the tablecloth and finds my thigh.
He does it so effortlessly, without breaking his conversation with the old man across from him. They’re discussing yachts. Apparently, Caleb’s an expert yachtsman. I don’t find this hard to believe because he’s an expert at everything.
Especially the way he’s touching me.
His hand brushes higher. On edge, I drop my butter knife and it clatters to the china plate.
Everyone turns to stare.
My hot face burns hotter. “Whoops!” I manage, and they all turn back to their gazpacho. An announcer begins a speech at the head of the room, distracting everyone. Caleb uses the cover to lean closer and whisper, “You’re so tense.”
“I wonder why?” I shoot back under my breath.
He chuckles. “I can think of a few ways to… Relax you.”
His fingertips begin tracing tiny circles on the inside of my bare thigh.
I tense. “That would have the opposite effect,” I remind him, and he smiles.
“Maybe so, but God, you’d look beautiful coming here, in front of everyone.”
I try to keep my cool.
“I’m beginning to think you have an exhibitionist kink,” I say coolly, sipping my water.
Caleb stifles a laugh. “What do you know about kink?” he murmurs in my ear, still caressing me out of sight, under the table.
Absolutely nothing I haven’t read about in steamy fan-fiction, but he doesn’t have to know that.
