Fall from India Place (On Dublin Street 4)

“I might have to take my word back on one thing. I’m just as good a shopper as you are,” he said, his hand still cradling her jaw, his gaze trailing down over the jeans, running shoes, and fresh, light green sweater he’d bought her. The sweater clung to her breasts, and his gaze lingered there—not for the first time since she’d donned the garment.

“I agree. You even got the sizes perfect. How did you do it?”

“I pointed out a woman working at the store who looked about your size. Except for there,” his brows lifting slightly as he glanced at her breasts. “She was smaller than you, but I didn’t say anything. I’m glad I didn’t. I like the result.”

Lin snorted with laughter. They walked back through the city, pausing to stroll around a bustling Millennium Park before they returned to Kam’s new apartment. By the time they returned to Kam’s building, it had become cooler and overcast. They’d be getting rain later.

When they’d left the building earlier that morning, Lin had experienced a moment of anxiety. What if they ran into Francesca or Mrs. Hanson? How would she explain what she was doing with Kam when she’d called and told Ian she couldn’t make an important business brunch?

On the return trip to the building, she never even thought of it. Her head was too filled with Kam to consider anything else.

Perhaps the realization that she’d so easily forgotten her other life was what was responsible for her temporary relapse into her work mindset when they returned. The promise of a storm cloaked the apartment when they entered. The living room was cast in shadow.

“I’m just going to go wash up,” Kam said, pointing toward the bathroom.

“Okay,” she said, suddenly feeling shy for some stupid reason. The dim apartment seemed in stark contrast to their former warm, easygoing mood on the walk. There was a hushed quality to the luxurious interior. Expectant. It seemed very intimate. Her awareness of Kam suddenly ratcheted up several degrees, making her feel self-conscious and . . .

. . . excited.

She spotted the computer she’d been using earlier still on the floor. She walked over and picked it up distractedly, sitting on the couch. It wasn’t that she really planned to check her e-mails, they just popped onto the screen when she touched the mouse pad to turn off the computer. Spotting a new, potentially crucial, subject line, she pulled on her glasses. She was paging down on the e-mail, studying the screen intently when Kam spoke.

“Now you’ve gone and done it.”

She looked up in surprise. Her mouth fell open when she noticed his expression—both grim and amused at once.

“What?”

“I told you what I was going to do if I caught you working,” he said matter-of-factly. He stepped forward and grabbed the computer off her lap, setting it on the couch. She was reminded of his piratical side when he lifted his dark eyebrows in a challenging expression. “Are you going to come willingly for your punishment, or should I carry you?”

She smiled, half disbelieving, half anxious because she kind of did believe him. “Give me a break.”

His brows lifted another fraction of an inch, as if to say, I’m still waiting for an answer. His cockiness pricked her pride, but it also excited her. She lifted her chin, daring him with her stare. “I was just checking my e-mail. I’m not going anywhere.” She reached for the computer.

“Fine,” he said unconcernedly. “So your answer is that you’re not coming willingly.”

“Kam!” she squawked when he swooped down and lifted her from the couch so rapidly she was taken by surprise. She grabbed his shoulder to steady herself. She was suddenly flying through the living room. Kam gave her a dark glance when she met his stare, but she saw amusement pulling at his mouth. She couldn’t help it. She snorted with laughter.

“I told you that you were going to get it if you worked instead of focusing on relaxation and pleasure, buy you just had to go and test me,” he said with mock sadness as he carried her down the dim hallway.

“So now I’m going to be punished for the horrible crime of checking e-mail?” she asked, containing her grin. Despite his playfulness, she saw his determination. His single-minded intent to steal her away to the bedroom for what she expected would be more experiments in dominance and submission and smoking-hot sex sent a forbidden thrill through her.

“Somebody’s got to cure you of your addiction.” He shut the bedroom door with his foot and entered the suite, setting her down next to the four-poster bed, his hands lingering on her hips. “You agree with that, don’t you?”

She arched her eyebrows. “It’s hardly an addiction. But maybe I shouldn’t be quite so concerned about work.” He continued to watch her expectantly. “Especially on the weekend.” He waited. She bit her lip. “Especially on a weekend when I’m supposed to be focusing on fun.”

“And?”

“Pleasure,” she whispered. Suddenly, all the playfulness faded from his expression. He released his hold on her and sat down at the edge of the bed near the headboard.

“Take off your clothes.”

His quiet command kept repeating in her head like an echo. Her mouth suddenly felt very dry. She untied her laces and kicked off her shoes, feeling shy meeting Kam’s gaze. Her new sport socks joined her shoes on the carpet and then her jeans. Her fingers felt stiff as she began to unbutton the clinging green knit. The underwear Kam had bought her was in stark contrast to the casual clothing. He’d purchased three pairs of matching bras and panties, each of them silk and lace from a top designer. The set she wore today was a pretty periwinkle blue. When she’d teased him about his purchase of fine lingerie for a day of leisure earlier, he’d merely shrugged, unembarrassed.