Whose Bed Is It Anyway?

‘Let’s go sightseeing.’ He framed her face, tilting it so she couldn’t look away from him. ‘You can’t hide—it’s like you’ve let them put you in a prison. You shouldn’t. You’re not guilty.’

She shook her head. ‘It’s not that.’

He ran his hand down her spine, as if he were soothing a spitting cat. ‘Then what?’ He drew her close so she leant against his body.

She didn’t want to resist. How could she? But she might make him pay. ‘Okay. I’ll come out with you. But there can be no PDA.’

He tugged her hair so she lifted her face. He stared at her in disbelief. ‘You’re that paranoid?’

‘The photographers might not know me. But they know you. You’re like royalty here.’

She saw the denial flare in his eyes. ‘You’re worried about being photographed with me?’

She nodded.

He threw his head back and laughed. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

She put her palms on his chest and pushed, freeing herself. ‘It is not.’

‘It is.’ He laughed again. ‘But okay. If that’s what it’ll take, then no PDA. You want to walk five paces behind me as well?’

‘Not a bad idea,’ she said loftily. ‘That way I can check out your butt.’

His eyes glittered wickedly. ‘Come on. Come with me now and I’ll let you do a lot more than check out my butt later.’

It wasn’t quite five paces behind, but Caitlin did linger just a little as they walked outside the apartment building, purely to check out his mighty fine butt.

* * *

James walked up to the yellow taxi idling at the kerb. Tired but determined to do this for Caitlin. The right thing. She couldn’t spend the next fortnight doing nothing but having sex with him. Much as he’d love exactly that. Except he knew he wouldn’t—if he lay still too long, thoughts began to bug him.

He bent his head to look through the window and grinned at the driver who’d picked him up from the airport only a couple of days before. Oddly, it felt like a lifetime ago. Life had changed. ‘Thanks so much,’ he said.

‘Any time.’

‘I might need you for a couple of days,’ James warned.

‘No problem. Where you want to go first?’

‘I’ll tell you in a minute.’ James straightened and turned to find Caitlin. She was just in front of the entrance to the building, studiously—obviously—ogling him. He laughed. ‘Come on, then, woman.’ He winked.

‘We’re going by taxi?’ She looked pretty damn happy at the sight of the yellow car.

‘I massaged those sore feet of yours last night, remember?’ James teased. ‘I’m saving myself from the task tonight.’

She reached up on tiptoes and murmured in his ear. ‘Maybe I’ll require a massage anyway.’

Before he could wrap an arm around her waist and hussle her back home pronto, she stepped out of reach and opened the cab door, sliding inside.

James took a moment to inhale deep and tell himself he could manage the no-PDA thing. Climbing into the cab after her, he chuckled inwardly at her outrageous demands. The woman who’d been so tart and scathing that first night sure had a naughty streak. He loved it. Loved that she felt free enough with him to release it.

He knew she didn’t usually. Hell, she was blushing now, even though she’d said her little vixen bit already. But it was because of the deal they’d struck—an unlimited, evanescent fling. It gave them both a kind of freedom.

‘So where are we going?’ She turned towards him as she asked, her eyes alert, face shining.

His tour-guide trick had been a damn good idea. The no PDA thing? Not so much.

James shifted on the seat and tried to convince himself that all good things came to those who waited. ‘First we’re going on a drive by. Edited highlights. So you get an overview of the island without destroying your feet. Let’s start with a trip around the park.’

The taxi driver pulled out into the traffic.

‘James.’

Uh-oh, he didn’t like the edge in her voice. He glanced across and saw her gnawing the edge of her lip. ‘Problem?’

She nodded. ‘Money. Paying for this.’

He drew a breath and lied. ‘The cab is free, right?’ he called to the driver.

‘Absolutely. I owe you,’ he answered.

Good thing James had briefed him and already paid for the full day’s driving.

James felt Caitlin’s unrelenting gaze on him. To his astonishment he felt a flush mount in his own cheeks—probably deep enough to match hers.

Yeah, she knew it was a set-up. But she said nothing. James quickly leaned forward and pointed past her, out of her window. ‘Look, you can just see the Chrysler through there.’

He knew distraction would get him only so far with her. He knew he was spoilt. It was pure luck he’d been born into an extremely wealthy family. Hell, he donated almost his entire salary to charity because he already had enough income from his trust fund. He didn’t need to work a day in his life, not for money. But for sanity? For self-worth? For dignity? He’d work every hour he could. Usually he took care not to flash his funds around the guys he worked with. Certainly not around the people who’d more often than not just lost everything.

But he wanted to take Caitlin out. The money, the offer, meant nothing to him. Yet meant all the wrong things to her. He knew she wouldn’t accept because she was proud enough to want to go Dutch and couldn’t afford it. So he was going to have to improvise. Fortunately, he knew where he could find some really good guidebooks.

And he’d show her New

York.

‘You want to get an idea of where things are,’ he said as the car cruised along with the traffic. ‘How the city works, in terms of design.’ If she designed costumes, he figured she’d be interested in other aspects of design too. ‘I have a plan for sustained sightseeing.’

‘Oh, you do?’

‘Uh-huh.’ He nodded sagely. ‘You don’t want to cram too much into one day. You have the benefit of a whole month in New York—you can afford to take your time, get to some of the things that aren’t on the usual lists, spend longer in some of the great places.’

‘Okay.’

He grinned; he had her interest. ‘So the rough daily plan is a gallery, a park, a place.’

‘Daily plan?’ she giggled. ‘Like this is some sightseeing diet?’

‘Feast,’ he corrected in all seriousness. ‘I’m assuming you’re into galleries, right? Museums? Places to soak up inspiration?’

Her face lit up. ‘Yes, please.’

‘Then a park—some fresh air. A bit of a stretch, some greenery. And then a place.’

‘A place?’

‘Like a building, or another kind of attraction. Maybe something historical, whatever. Like Liberty. Sound good?’

‘Sure. I’m happy to be in your hands,’ she turned her head towards him and cooed.

Tease.

‘All right, let’s head to our gallery for today.’ He had to get out of the car before he hauled her across his lap and showed her what he really thought of the no-PDA idea. ‘The Met. You okay with that?’

‘Absolutely.’

Twenty minutes later they got out of the cab. James told the cabbie to come back in a couple of hours and then pulled the paper from his pocket. He’d printed the e-tickets while she was showering this morning. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at them and registered what they were.

‘I don’t like queues.’ He shrugged.

‘I’m not a charity case.’

‘You can buy me lunch in return.’

She looked up at him, her eyes very blue and fully serious. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’