Claiming Caroline (Claimed 3)

"N-no. I'm fine," I say. My voice shakes as if I'm nervous or breathless. I'm not. I think I might be a little stunned though. There's no way this gorgeous man attends our little college. Every woman at the school would be following him around if he did. He's that kind of handsome, like all of my friends say my brothers are. Except I can't see this man being annoying like they are. He has to be close to thirty-five or forty, and he's way too self-possessed to be anything close to an annoyance.

Maybe he works here?

"Are you sure?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice. It's in his eyes, too. And in the way his hands run up and down my back, setting off fires in their wake as he checks me over for injuries. He didn't hurt me though. He just startled me.

"Are you hurt?" I ask, more worried about him than about me.

He blinks at me.

"You stormed out of there like you expected trouble." I shift to move out of his arms, but he doesn't let me go. For some reason, my heart leaps. I like the thought of this dashing stranger wanting to hold onto me for a little longer. "I was worried you might have been under attack or something. I don't have any weapons, but we can probably use my heels for daggers."

His lips twitch. "You'd use your heels to protect me, princess?"

"They'd make better weapons than shoes," I mutter. "So…bathroom brawl?"

"No bathroom brawls here." His lips turn up into a chagrined smile that is far too charming. "Just misplaced annoyance."

"Misplaced annoyance?"

"Misplaced annoyance," he repeats, that charming smile growing. A tiny divot appears in his left cheek, so small most people probably wouldn't even notice it unless, like me, they were this close to him. "I didn't want to come to this thing tonight but got roped into it. I wouldn't have been nearly as pissed had I known you were here, Red."

"At least someone knows who I'm supposed to be," I mutter, which makes his smile grow. "I don't want to be here either. Would you think me a coward if I admitted that I thought about hiding in the restroom all night?"

"I'm glad you didn't, princess," he says as if he truly means it. "It would have been the height of cruelty to be so close to you yet never cross your path."

Wow. He's good at that.

"What's your name?"

"Caroline"—I remember at the last minute that I'm supposed to be playing the role of my sister tonight—"Kennedy."

"Caroline Kennedy?" He arches a brow, undoubtedly familiar with the name. Caroline Kennedy is basically American royalty.

I shake my head, trying to clear it. "Um, you can call me Kennedy if you want."

"Nah, sweet baby. I like Caroline," he says, and then shocks me by lifting my hand to his lips to press a kiss to my knuckles. He lingers over it for a moment, his eyes locking on mine. Something perilously close to…regret flickers through them. "I'm Jared Kingston."

"It's nice to meet you, Jared," I whisper, darting the tip of my tongue out to wet my lips.

"The pleasure is all mine." For a brief moment, he seems relieved, but before I can ask why, he straightens up. He still doesn't let go of my hand. Instead, he places it on his chest, stepping so close I feel the air between us shooting off little sparks. They pop against my skin, leaving it humming like electricity. "Did you come here alone, princess?"

I bob my head in a nod, transfixed on the way his lips shape the words.

"Good girl," he says, his voice a velvety croon that does wicked things to my insides. I like the thought of being good for this man…and the thought of being bad with him. He wraps his other hand around my waist, tugging me closer to his body. His hold is possessive. So is the look in his eyes. They're full of heat and something darker, some hunger that makes me shiver with anticipation I've never felt before.

"Did you…come here alone?" I find the voice to ask.

"I did."

I exhale a tiny, relieved sigh and then quickly check his hand. He isn't wearing a ring and there isn't a ring mark. Still… "Are you always alone?"

"You want to know if I'm dating anyone? Married?"

I bite my lip, not sure I'm allowed to ask that of a man I met exactly four minutes ago. But then I nod anyway because I really do want to know, especially since he's still holding me flush against his body so not even air moves between us.

"There's no one, princess," he murmurs, tipping his head down until our lips almost touch. "I'm not married, and I haven't been on a date in longer than I care to admit."

"That's good," I whisper, transfixed on his lips. They're so full, shaping each word that spills from them like a kiss. "I don't date either."

"Good. Do you dance?"

"Yes. I mean, no."

One dark brow quirks.

"I haven't mastered the heels yet," I say by way of explanation. My cheeks heat at having to admit that tiny fault to this man. He probably does everything perfectly. Me, not so much. I'm not girly or graceful. I've never much cared how I looked or if I could walk in heels or if anyone found me attractive.

"Ah." Jared glances toward my feet, which are hidden beneath the hem of my gown, and then back to me. He glances around and then seems to make some sort of decision. He releases me, which I instantly dislike. But before I can even think about why, he slips my hand into his and tugs gently. "Come on then, Caroline Kennedy."

"Where?"