Hero (Hero 1)

“You came for me,” I whispered, trying not to get choked up again. “Even though it meant facing my father, you followed me to protect me. That meant everything to me. You saved my life.”

His own eyes were bright with emotion and his voice was hoarse when he vowed, “I will always protect you.”

“No fair,” I breathed heavily against the love and desire now pulsing through my body. “We can’t have sex yet until this stupid wound is healed, and I really feel like this is one of those moments where intense sex is applicable.”

“Anticipation is everything.” He laughed, relaxing onto his back and pulling me into his side. “Those first weeks working with you were the best foreplay of my life. By the time I got you naked on my desk, I was harder than I’ve ever been.”

I laughed. “That was really great sex.”

“It was.”

“I’ll miss that desk.”

Caine tensed. “What do you mean?”

I soothed him, stroking my hand over his abs. “If we’re in a serious, committed relationship now, there’s no way I’m working for you. I’ll need to find another job.”

“But no more Paris?”

I pressed a sweet kiss to his stomach. “No more Paris.” I sighed. “I have some e-mailing to do.”

“We’ve both got a lot to do … so let’s just enjoy the next thirty minutes of peace and quiet.”

I snuggled into him. “Now, that I can do quite happily.”

To say the Holland family was destroyed by Matthew Holland’s arrest was an understatement. My defense lawyers were trying to build a case against my half brother while he was out on bail. He’d been bailed out by his mother’s family. They all firmly believed his wails of denial, but my grandfather, although refusing to comment in the media, had taken my side and cut him out of his life and his will. My grandmother was a harder nut to crack. Grandpa said she believed him when he said Matthew had bribed Grandpa’s attorney to find out about changes to his will, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to believe he was capable of something so despicable as trying to murder me.

The jury was out for her until hard evidence was found against Matthew.

Unfortunately there was no physical evidence yet to link him to the case, but the police were working on it. He hadn’t paid Holts in cash but in jewelry, so they were trying to link the pieces that were pawned by Holts to Matthew or anybody connected to him.

I truly believed Matthew Holland was a spoiled idiot who was living so far up his own ass in fantasyland that he’d impetuously hired a man to get rid of the person standing in his way to financial wealth beyond his wildest dreams. I had to wonder if he hadn’t thought of me as a person until Holts’s attack went awry, and then was forced to see me, to see what he had done. Stupid, naive, and quickly terrified, he’d lost control of Holts and the entire scheme. I didn’t think I had anything to worry about regarding my future safety around Matthew.

Holts, however, was a different deal altogether. I felt so much safer knowing Vernon Holts was in prison and, if my lawyers had anything to say about it, would be going away for a long time. That knowledge allowed me to concentrate on starting to put the pieces of my new life together. I contacted Renée and Antoine to tell them I wouldn’t be accepting the job. I apologized for messing them around, and they were incredibly understanding about the whole thing.

I’d put feelers out looking for a job in Boston in events management. The last few weeks hadn’t brought up anything that sounded appealing financially, and I was beginning to wonder if this career change meant starting from the ground up again.

By week three Caine suggested what Charlie the Red Sox date had suggested months ago—that I start my own events planning company. The idea of starting my own company, however, didn’t exhilarate me like it did Caine. All I could imagine was constantly bringing my work home with me, and I didn’t want that. I understood work spilled into personal life, but I didn’t want my whole world to revolve around my business. That wasn’t me. And I couldn’t imagine Caine and I would ever see much of each other if we were both running our own companies.

When I said that to him he was quick to agree that I should look at joining someone else’s company. To help me along he was using his own connections to see if there were any open positions in that industry. Meanwhile, his offer for me to remain working with him if I couldn’t find anything was on the table.

What hadn’t been on the table was sex.

By week six into my recovery, although weighed down by the stress of the case against Matthew and Holts, and finding a new job, I was feeling much better physically.

Something I kept trying to explain to Caine.

Although he insisted that I stay at his apartment throughout my recovery, he was very careful with me. I was treated to delicious kisses and gentle caresses but nothing more. After the kissing he’d release me and whisper, “Soon,” in my ear.

Well, I was getting sick of “soon.” I wanted now. When I’d attempted to push the subject, he got stern with me and told me to be patient, that it was important I made a full recovery.

Of course Caine should have realized by now that telling me what to do outside of the office was never a good idea. My answer was to head home to my apartment and get settled in. I had to admit I’d missed my place. I loved Caine’s but only because it was where he was, and I loved his view. Nothing beat his view. Or the fact that Effie was just down the hall.