Fight or Flight

“You’re right,” I whispered, staring at his chest as I tried to gather the courage to meet his gaze.

“Ava.”

His tone drew my eyes to his face, where his expression had softened, a weary amusement filling his gaze. “This was supposed tae be fun.”

I let out a huff of laughter. “Sometimes it has been.”

“Well”—he gave me that arrogant smirk of his—“why don’t we agree tae agree that we dinnae know each other enough tae judge each other? I’ll quit making assumptions about you if you admit you dinnae really know me well enough tae hate me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You still want to see me while you’re in Boston? Surely it would just be easier to pick up a random woman in a bar?”

His eyes grew smoky. “Do you really think it would be the same?”

My breath caught.

He heard it and gave a small huff of self-deprecating laughter. “Hard for two people like us tae admit it, but no one else quite does it for us the way we do it for each other, right? I’m here for a few more days, then I’m back tae Scotland. So why don’t we just take advantage of this opportunity while we can. It’s all right tae be that tae each other, Ava. Tae look back and remember that Bastard Scot that gave you bloody brilliant orgasms and for me tae look back and remember the American beauty who was the best sex I ever had.”

Surprise and pleasure filled me that he would admit that, and he shook his head at my expression. “Are you gonna lie and say I’m not the best you’ve ever had?”

Usually, I would take his words for annoying overconfidence, but I knew that wasn’t how he meant them. He just knew, as I did, that sex between us was on a whole other level of epicness. Still, it discomfited me. “Well, I don’t have a lot to compare it to.”

Irritation flickered across his expression and he took a step back.

“I’m not lying,” I hurried to assure him. “I—I’ve only ever been with one other man before you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “No way.”

I blushed, feeling vulnerable and suddenly wishing I hadn’t been so honest. “Uh, yes way.”

“You told me you’d had great sex before.”

“It was great sex.”

“But ours is better.” It wasn’t a question.

“With you it’s …” I flushed harder and didn’t enjoy being so honest with him. “Yes, sex with you is off the charts. Happy?”

Caleb grinned and I rolled my eyes at his arrogance. “That wasn’t so hard tae admit, was it?”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and stepped back into my space, so I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. “No more judgments. No more overanalyzing it. Let’s just enjoy what we have while it lasts.”

My body was already inching toward him, craving his touch, so there was really no other answer to give. “Okay. But no more telling me I’m not your type.”

To my astonishment, he looked chagrined. “I won’t do that again. It was an arsehole move and I regretted it as soon as I said it.”

My lips parted in shock. The man could admit when he was wrong. Wow.

He suddenly gripped my chin gently and brought my lips to his, where he brushed the sweetest kiss across them. He pulled back but didn’t release me, and he said softly, “I know you’re sad, Ava, about your friend. It’s not up tae me tae take that away, tae make you happy. But I can distract you, babe. I can give you somewhere tae disappear.”

Tears burned in the back of my eyes before I could stop them at his sweet words. This was a side to Caleb Scott I was afraid to admit might exist. This was a man who could be dangerous to me. But I was going to choose to ignore the danger in favor of the rush and escape he was offering. I blinked back the tears and nodded. “Tonight?”

“Same time. You’ve still got the key card?”

“Yes.”

He kissed me again, longer, deeper, his tongue dancing with mine until I was clinging to the heat of him, overwhelmed. I felt his hand slide down over my ass, pulling me tight against him, and I felt the thickening of his arousal against my belly. Just like that he jerked away, like he had to force himself to let go of me. “You best go.” His voice was hoarse with need. “I’ll need a minute before I go back tae my table.”

That feeling of power returned and I gave him an arrogant smile that made him chuckle. With one last wave of my fingers, I walked away, feeling his gaze burn into my back. As I left the restaurant, I couldn’t shake off a residual feeling of uncertainty. It had changed from what I was feeling when I first walked into the restaurant. It was no longer worry that I could have such strong desire for a man I disliked. No, now I began to wonder if I’d been lying to myself all along. That maybe I’d been able to see past Caleb’s brusque rudeness, and that maybe I could like him.

And liking him was concerning to me.

But not being able to kiss and touch him again was even more of a concern. Dominating my uncertainty was my relief that it wasn’t over. I’d explain the conversation Caleb and I had to Harper so she wouldn’t worry about me. He and I had reached a new understanding.

As I walked back to my office, I began to wish away the rest of the day, desperate to get my next fix now that we’d cleared the air between us.

Thirteen

As soon as I strolled into the Marquess, one of the most exclusive restaurant-clubs in the city, I couldn’t help but feel like I didn’t belong there. However, I suspected if the people who frequented the club caught even a hint of insecurity, they’d be on me like a shark scenting blood in the water. In an effort to seem confident, I wore a careful expression that said, I belong here, but don’t talk to me. I, of course, didn’t belong there. Patrice and Danby had invited me to dine with them along with Caleb that evening.

Two more days had passed since he and I had had our little tête-à-tête at Canterbury. And two more nights of passion in his hotel room. Last night he’d been so desperate to have me, he pounced on me as I let myself into his room.

My eyes locked with Caleb’s as the host of the club led me across the elegant library room toward him. Apparently, Patrice and Danby hadn’t arrived yet, so Caleb and I were to wait for them before being led into the dining room.

There were only a few other people in the room sitting near the open fireplace, but Caleb was sitting in the back. He’d been frowning at his phone, yet had looked up from it almost as soon as I entered the room. As if he’d felt my presence.

I couldn’t help but shiver at the way those wolf eyes of his dipped down my body as I approached. The heat in his gaze made me glad I’d worn this dress. It was one of my favorites—a modern twist on a flapper dress. I felt like a 1920s movie star whenever I wore it. Champagne colored with silver detailing, it sparkled subtly as I moved, hugging my body but not too tightly. The kind of dress that made me feel playful but classy at the same time. I’d matched it with a pair of strappy silver stilettos and I’d swept all my hair to one side in a loose, elegant braid.

Caleb stood up as I approached.

“As soon as Mr. and Mrs. Danby arrive, I will inform them that their guests are here,” the host said.

“Thank you,” I replied, watching him walk away, feeling Caleb’s focus on me. Finally I turned to meet his eyes. “Hello.”

He pulled a seat out for me at the coffee table. I thanked him as I sat down, trying to ignore the way his eyes lingered over my legs as I crossed them. The truth was, I was nervous to be in a normal situation with him. For the last three nights, we’d been lost in a sex bubble together, and because of that it felt like we’d been sleeping together for longer than we had. I knew intimate details about this man, as he did about me.

We had, however, planned to keep our interludes restricted to the physical desire we shared. When we talked in the hotel room, it was about what we wanted to do to each other. Yet, despite our best-laid plans, Patrice had turned the tables on us. She’d called me to tell me she felt terrible for neglecting Caleb, certain that he wasn’t staying in one of their guest rooms at all, but still at the hotel. Upset at failing in her hostess duties, she had insisted she and Danby make time to have dinner with him, and had also insisted that I join them.