JULIET
I thoughtthat the orgasm would relax me.
I was wrong.
Oh, at first, I’m feeling relaxed, happy, as we hop in the car and head to his weekend place.
But then he turns into a winding driveway that leads to a sprawling mansion overlooking the ocean. The place is so big, the grounds so lush and manicured, at first, I think it’s a resort.
But nope. It’s all his. Well, his, and the coterie of staff that clearly keeps the place looking so gorgeous. Roses trail from the grey-washed shingles, the windows gleam, and every porch is set with a cozy bench or swing with perfectly plumped pillows. It’s both casual and utterly intimidating all at the same time, the kind of understated luxury that takes money and taste to curate.
“Sure, you just sat around all summer growing up, sweating,” I tease, reminding him of his earlier words.
Caleb smirks.
He pulls up out front and parks, then leads me through the front door. Of course, the place is incredible on the inside, too. Everything is pale wood and soft textures, white and cream and blues to match the ocean beyond. Beyond the massive, sweeping staircase to upstairs, the whole back of the house is windows, offering a breathtaking view of the beach. “Wow,” I sigh happily, taking it all in. Sure, I could try and play it cool, but a beautiful place like this deserves to be admired. I look around. “Are we the only people here?”
“Do you want to be?” He takes my hand and tugs me closer for a steamy kiss. I emerge breathless, my head spinning. He smiles. “I have my amazing kitchen staff preparing us dinner, but don’t worry, they have the rest of the night off. I wouldn’t want them hearing you moan,” he adds, seductive, and I flush.
“I had them prepare a suite for you,” he continues, leading me upstairs. He shows me to a room with a beautiful view of the water. “You should have everything you need. You can rinse off and change for dinner.”
I pause, giving him a suspicious look. “You’re leaving me to shower alone?” I ask. “No seductive lines, no trying to get in there with me?” I point my finger teasingly. “You have work you’re sneaking off to do.”
Caleb laughs. “Busted.” He admits. “Just a couple of calls. But don’t worry, you’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of the night.”
“Go.” I shoo him, smiling. “Just think of me naked and soaped up while you’re on those calls.”
Caleb groans, but he leaves me to it.
I throw myself down on the massive bed and smile with satisfaction. To tell the truth, I’m glad to have a moment alone, to process everything that’s happening. Caleb’s presence is overwhelming. A force to be reckoned with. Like gravity, pulling everything around him into his path. And even though our afternoon on the water was tender and surprising in ways that I never expected, I still feel like I need to collect myself and come back down to earth.
He might not be the man I thought he was.
As I shower in the enormous bathroom, I can’t help thinking about what Olivia said. He’ll use me, and then he’ll cut me loose.
A part of me has been braced for the bastard billionaire to return, but Caleb seems serious about showing me a different side of him. If he wanted to use me shamelessly for sex, he could have seduced me back in the city. We both know, I would have willingly let him. He didn’t have to bring me here for a weekend together, spend all this time with me. Confide about his past, and find out about mine.
It’s like I’m seeing his walls come down, little by little. The way he talked about his family, his fears, his burdens…
I slip on a long, strapless sundress and stare at myself in the mirror, a new warmth spreading in my chest.
Up until this weekend, Olivia had been right about everything Caleb did. I haven’t doubted that she knows him far better than me.
But now, I have to admit... I’m starting to.
What if she’s wrong about him?
What if she’s wrong about everything?
Downstairs,the house is quiet and still. The sun is setting, but I see lights flickering in the darkness outside, so I stroll out to the patio, where a candlelit table is overlooking the ocean.
Caleb is waiting for me there, looking absolutely irresistible in a white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up over tanned forearms. His hair is damp from the shower, and he’s cleanly shaved, and when I move closer to greet him with a kiss, I catch the scent of his cologne again, the smell that seems to wrap around my senses. Intoxicating.
“Hungry?” he asks, and I nod.
It’s the truth, after all. I just don’t mention that I’m ravenous for him.
“Good. I had my chef prepare his special pasta,” he says, pulling my chair out for me. “It’s the best I’ve ever tasted outside Italy. I found him in a hole-in-the-wall place in Jersey, and offered him an arm and a leg to come cook for me.”