He got off the bed and crossed the room, then grabbed a book from a shelf along the far wall. He took it back to her and handed it over. “Here, read this. Chapters twenty-eight through thirty-two, to be specific. I think you’ll find them . . . informative.”
“The Adventures of Mira,” she said, reading the title aloud. “What is it about?”
“A man and woman who like to play sexual games. The master and slave type.”
Her face flamed, and she dropped the book onto the bed as if it were a snake. “Oh,” she mumbled. “That’s . . . nice.”
Dean reached out and cupped her cheek. “Read the chapters, Catherine. If you hate it, then we’ll forget I ever brought it up.”
She bit her lip and looked down at her lap. “Will you be disappointed if I don’t like it?” She peeked up at him. “I mean, I’m not sure I could play those types of games.”
Dean winked. “Sweetheart, there are about a million other sexual things I can think of where you’re concerned. I have a very vivid imagination. If you don’t feel comfortable with this one, then we’ll scrap the idea and go to idea number one hundred and ten. My pleasure comes from your pleasure. It’s as simple as that.”
She laughed, but Dean could tell she was worried. “You’re sure?”
“I’m positive,” he said, hoping to alleviate her concerns. “Just read the chapters and we’ll talk. No pressure, no expectations. Got it?”
She nodded.
Dean wrapped an arm around her middle and drew her close, then covered her mouth with his. He forced her lips apart and swept inside, needing a bigger taste of her on his tongue before he left her to meet with Jonas. Their tongues teased and Dean’s dick went hard all over again. With the last shred of willpower he had left, Dean released her. “God Almighty, your mouth would tempt a saint.”
“Right back at ya,” she whispered.
He stood up and pointed to the bed. “Stay as long as you want. Use the shower, raid the fridge, whatever.”
“And read the book,” she helpfully supplied.
He wagged his eyebrows. “Definitely read the book,” he said, then he left, lest he be tempted to skip the meeting and spend the day in bed with the seductive woman. It wasn’t until he was in his truck and down the road that it dawned on him what he’d done. He’d left a woman in his house alone. He hadn’t done that since he’d been living with Linda.
“Damned if she hasn’t sneaked right under my radar,” he said to himself, a stupid grin on his face. But when he thought about where he was headed and why, the grin swiftly vanished. He’d pried into her life like a dog with a bone. What the hell had he been thinking? If a woman had done that to him, he’d be livid. If he screwed up with Catherine, Dean knew he’d be doomed to a life alone, because no way in hell could any woman ever hold a candle to her.
24
When Dean arrived at his office, Jonas was already there, pacing back and forth. “How’d you get in here?” Dean asked, frowning down at the doorknob. “I thought I locked up yesterday.”
“You did.” Jonas shrugged, completely unrepentant. “It’s not my fault you need better locks.”
“You picked my lock?” Dean shook his head as he moved around the desk to sit down. “Why am I even surprised by that?”
“Beats me,” he said as he took the chair across from him. “The file is there”—he pointed to a manila folder—“and it’s not pretty.”
Dean looked down at the innocent-looking file, a feeling of dread filling him. He should throw it in the trash and forget about the whole damn thing. He trusted Catherine. He knew he’d always trusted her. It’d been Linda’s betrayal that had clouded his judgment, but he was seeing things clear now. Catherine wasn’t Linda. She wasn’t anything like the other women who’d hurt him either. Dean had been a damn fool to even think of comparing her to anyone else.
“Well?” Jonas said, obviously annoyed. “Are you going to open it or stare at it all day?”
Dean picked up the folder, but for the first time in his life he wasn’t sure what to do. Opening it seemed like a betrayal to Catherine. If he trusted her then he shouldn’t look in the folder. Right?
Jonas cursed and reached across the desk. He snatched the folder right out of his hand and opened it, then said, “You’re making me nuts.” He yanked out a few papers and tossed them at him. “There, read it.”
Dean looked at the top sheet. It was a legal court document. It took reading it twice before the full meaning hit him. “What the fuck,” he muttered.
“My sentiments exactly,” Jonas bit out.
Dean read it again, unwilling to believe his own eyes. “According to this, Catherine’s biological mom was raped?”
“Gracie and Catherine’s biologica
l mother, you mean. Don’t forget that.”