Fight or Flight

And at their private club no less.

Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves surrounded us, with leather-bound books filling every inch of them. Coffee tables and elegant armchairs were strategically placed throughout the room, and there was a small free bar near the entrance.

“Oh, how the other half live,” I muttered.

“You look beautiful.”

Caleb’s compliment brought my gaze swinging back to his rugged face. He wore a small smile, as if entertained by my startled expression. “I’ve called you beautiful before. Why so surprised now?”

“Because you said it without sounding pissed off about it.”

He flashed me a grin. “Is that so?”

“It is.” I gave him a quizzical smile. “And thank you. You look very handsome.”

He leaned an elbow on the armchair and braced his fist against his mouth. Though the movement shielded his lips from me, I saw the thoughtful amusement in his gaze. I didn’t know what was so funny about my compliment, but I shrugged it off since he did look handsome in his dinner suit and black tie.

There was something kind of erotic about the fact that he dressed like such a gentleman here and hid the wild, tattooed guy that only I got to see when we were together. I’d traced every inch of his tattoos with my tongue, so curious about them I’d almost asked him about the significance of the warriors and the phrase he’d decided to have permanently inked on his skin.

Thankfully, I’d stopped myself before I could cross that line.

Caleb continued to study me, his eyes taking in every detail of my face until I shifted uncomfortably. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Lifting his head away from his hand, he shrugged. “Nothing else is worth looking at when you’re in the room.”

Stunned, I felt my breath catch in my throat. It was quite possibly one of the most romantic things anyone had ever said to me, and it came from the most unexpected source. It took a few attempts to compose myself and ignore the way my heart turned over in my chest; I struggled for once for a retort. Instead, I decided on a subject change, breaking my rule about not asking him personal questions. “Why were you frowning at your phone when I walked in?”

If Caleb was perplexed by the probing question, he didn’t show it. Instead he glanced at his phone where it sat on the coffee table. “They think flights tae Europe will be available again by the end of the week, but it looks like I’ll be here for at least a week beyond that.” He stared at me as I felt a warmth in my chest that couldn’t possibly be happiness. “The men I was at lunch with the other day …”

“Yeah?”

“One of them is the CFO of the North American division. And he’s a complete and utter nightmare. He does nothing. Delegates everything—and I mean everything—tae staff members who are struggling under the weight of their own duties and now his. Staff members who aren’t qualified and aren’t paid the six figures he’s being paid. He deflects my questions because he can’t answer them. He’s lazy, arrogant, and clueless and—” He cut off as his voice began to rise in anger.

Sympathy moved through me. He sounded so stressed. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m not his boss. In fact, the little shit thinks he’s my superior because the North American division brings more money in than the UK.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s true for most companies—we’re a bigger country.”

“Aye, but the figures aren’t adding up. The company should be doing better here than it is. I suspect he’s mismanaging the financial risks the division is taking, but I can’t know for certain without getting a look at his files. And he won’t let me look at his files.”

“So how do you alert the head honchos without pissing everybody off, right?”

“Right.” He sighed. “And is it my place tae alert them?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately. “It’s obvious you care about your work and this company. You don’t cross me as the type of man who would let an injustice go on without doing something about it.” And weirdly, despite my misgivings about him in the past, he really didn’t. I suppose I’d started to realize that when he sought to protect me from the assholes at the restaurant in O’Hare.

Caleb studied me with an intensity that made my skin flush hot. “Ten days isn’t much time tae do it.”

I smirked. “But you’re going to do it anyway.”

He let out a low laugh but didn’t answer either way. Still, I knew deep down he was going to do something about it.

We shared a look of mutual appreciation, and I felt emotion begin to well up inside of me. Emotion I had not expected to feel toward him. It was exactly as I had feared. Was I beginning to like my Bastard Scot?

“There you are, darlings!” Patrice’s voice carried across the room and we both turned to watch her and Danby walking toward us. She wore a long, figure-hugging, black-beaded dress. Her arm was looped through Danby’s. Michael Danby Senior was the same height as his wife, with a trim, athletic build and a handsome boyish face that never seemed to change as the years passed. His dark eyes were always lit with good humor and kindness.

Caleb and I stood at their approach and were immediately engulfed in Patrice’s expensive perfume as she kissed our cheeks in turn. When his wife released me, Danby stepped forward to kiss my right cheek.

“You look beautiful as always, Ava,” he murmured.

“And you handsome as always.”

He smiled at my compliment and then offered his hand to Caleb. “Nice to see you again. We keep missing each other at the house.”

Caleb shook his hand. “Tae be honest, I’ve been working so late at the office, I’ve been crashing at the hotel instead. I hope you dinnae mind.”

“Of course not,” Danby said. “But the room is there if you need it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Did he just say thank you?

“You really should use it, though, darling,” Patrice admonished gently. “Our cook, Andrea, makes the most wonderful breakfast. I’m quite sure the Four Seasons’s doesn’t compare.”

Caleb gave her a placating nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Well.” Patrice stepped back to look at us standing together. “Don’t you two look absolutely ravishing together. Danby, don’t they look ravishing?” But before he could agree, she frowned at Caleb. “Although, darling, I would really like to see that handsome face of yours. Danby, make an appointment for Caleb at your Ray’s Barbers.”

“No,” I blurted out without thinking about it.

Patrice seemed bewildered by my outburst while mirth danced in Danby’s eyes. Caleb looked at me with knowing laughter twitching his lips. I flushed, giving him a side-eyed glare before I smiled somewhat sheepishly at Patrice. “I just mean … that … I, uh … well, I think Caleb should make that decision. Maybe he likes all that stubble.”

She eyed us in suspicion and growing understanding. Something like delight crept across her features. “It’s no longer stubble, Ava. It’s a beard.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed. You could still see the shape of his jawline. Surely that didn’t count as a beard? And quite suddenly I realized I was studying him while he stared back at me, apparently still trying not to laugh.

“You seem awfully invested in the subject, darling?” she teased.

I frowned and looked away. “I’m … I’m not.”

“Ava’s right.” Caleb came to my rescue. “I told her myself I’m not really the clean-shaven type. That’s why she spoke up for me.”

“Oh.” Patrice nodded, eyeballing us dubiously. “I see.”

Oh God. “Time for dinner, I think.” Danby slid his arm along his wife’s waist to turn her back the way they’d come. “I’m starved.”

“Yes, dinner, all right.” Patrice looked over her shoulder at us, but we waited a moment or two for them to get ahead of us.

I felt Caleb’s hand on my lower back, gently nudging me forward, and I tried to shrug off my embarrassment. Apparently, he had no intention of letting me. “So what is it you like about the facial hair the most?”