Caine's Reckoning (39 page)

“With your parents dead, who’s in line for it?”

“My sister and I.” She frowned. “Maybe.” At least she’d always assumed that, but something in the way his gaze sharpened made her rethink. She bit her lip as reality sank in. “Actually, I don’t know.”

“Damn, you sure?”

Dear God, she wasn’t. How could she be so ignorant about something as basic as her inheritance? She gave her coffee a sharp stir. “I was supposed to look pretty, remember?”

He nodded. “Just checking.”

She couldn’t let it go. She’d given up all hope of returning to her old life, word of what had happened would keep her and her sister ostracized, but she’d been counting on the money to make a new beginning. “Doesn’t inheritance always come to the children?”

“Sometimes.” Caine shrugged and sipped some more coffee. “Sometimes it can have conditions. You ever remember your pa or ma talking about your inheritance or maybe your money in relation to your marriage.”

“Only that everything was in place and that it should be brilliant.” And she’d let it go at that because it never occurred to her that she needed to know more, or that her perfect life could fall apart.

“Brilliant, huh?” Caine took another sip of coffee. The width of the cup did nothing to hide his smile. “You were that good at being pretty?”

“I was the best.” Her own smile was rueful. She’d taken such pride in being the best, too. “Though to be fair, being the perfect ornament doesn’t take much skill.”

“Seems to me it would take a hell of a lot of control. I’ve met eastern men, and they tend to have a need to exaggerate their own importance.”

Desi took a sip of her coffee, eyeing him over the brim. “In my experience, that need isn’t limited to the east.”

His only nod to her sarcasm was an amused “Ouch.”

And then nothing. She waited while he took a leisurely sip of his coffee and focused on a point over her shoulder. And then another. And with each second that passed, she was aware of time slipping away, of the deadline looming. She looked at the clock by the dining room door. He only had two minutes left. It shouldn’t matter to her, but when he went for a third sip, she couldn’t help blurting out, “You’re running out of time.”

Caine didn’t even glance at the clock. “I appreciate you keeping track.”

She resisted the urge to turn and look at what held his attention, but only because she knew what he really was doing was thinking. For all his lazy talking ways, the man’s mind never settled. And that was making her nervous. She clenched her fingers around the warm cup.

He motioned with the cup. “The other man, the one who liked to hurt you, are you still worried he’ll get you back?”

Horror, terror and rebellion twisted together inside as they always did at the mention of
him.
She glanced at the clock. She still owed him ninety more seconds of honesty. “Yes.”

His hand settled on her shoulder. “He won’t, you know.”

The statement was made with the same nonchalance with which someone talked about the weather, but while Desi didn’t share Caine’s confidence, she wasn’t fool enough to irritate him by saying so.

His fingertips rubbed up and down her neck in tiny increments. So soft she had to strain to feel them.

“Did you marry me to escape him?”

Oh, God, why was he making her say these things out loud? “Yes.”

“Do you expect this marriage to last?”

Pain in her knuckles alerted her to the fact she was squeezing the mug too hard. She relaxed her grip but she couldn’t do anything about the tightness in her throat. “No.”

Caine rested his foot on the rung of her chair, imprisoning her between his hard thigh and the side of the table. The wood offered a subtle protest that echoed the silent chant ripping through her. No. No. No.

Desi glanced at his leg and then his face. Did he think she was going to run? Could he sense how much she wanted to?

“Because he’ll come for you?”

It would be so easy to just say yes, and let it go. She glanced into his eyes, something she’d been avoiding doing until now. The irises were green with dark shadows flickering at the edges.

People have tried to use me before for a whole lot less reason.

Lying to him now would truly make her one of them. She didn’t want to hurt him like that, didn’t want to hurt him at all. He deserved better. There was still a minute on the clock. “No.”

Caine cocked his eyebrow at her. “You wouldn’t be trying to run out my time by drawing out your answers would you?”

She bit her lip. “No.”

But she might have if she’d thought of it earlier.

“Then answer me right.”

“When the novelty wears off, you’re going to feel differently about me.”

But she wasn’t going to feel differently about him, and she wouldn’t go any deeper into that hell than she had to.

“The novelty being the way I desire you?”

She nodded, her attention instinctively falling to the thick, tempting outline of his manhood that stretched down his thigh.

“And you figure the easiest way for me to be shed of an unwanted wife is to let the bastard take you.”

“It would be the easiest.”

“And therefore the most logical.”

She nodded.

“That’s a hell of an opinion you have of me.”

There was something in his voice that struck her wrong. She glanced at his face. She found nothing obvious, just that cool measuring assessment, but she couldn’t shake the inner sense that he was upset. She touched his left knee, driven by that irrational inner urge to comfort him. Beneath the cotton of his pants, his cock flexed. Her fingers strayed higher, stroking softly.

Even though she knew there was no way she could have hurt him, she said, “I’m sorry.”

His knee bent, shortening the distance between her hand and its destination. “You should be.”

Her mouth went dry as his shaft jumped again. He truly was a warlock and the proof was in how much she wanted to unbutton his pants and take out that big cock, ease him into her mouth and bring him the softness of release. Just nurse him gently until he came, taking the stress from his big frame and that darkness from his gaze. Even if only for a few seconds.

Seconds…She looked at the clock. “Your time is almost up.”

His fingers on her neck stopped that imperceptible caressing and just rested against her. “It’s all right. I’ve only got one more question.”

She waited. He didn’t seem in any hurry to get to it. Her fingers strayed higher. His hand cupped her head. His thumb under her chin brought her gaze up. She hoped her thoughts didn’t show in her face.

“What is it?”

“Are you holding back with me in bed?”

She blinked. “How am I supposed to answer that?”

“With the truth.”

Dear God, had she said that out loud? From the way he was watching her, she must have. And from the razor sharpness of his gaze, this was the only question he’d ever intended to have an answer to all along. “Maybe.”

“Maybe is a hedge, not an answer.”

Anger flared out of nowhere, resentment holding it up with a steady support. She leaned back against his hand, straining against his hold. “Well, maybe ‘maybe’ is the best I can do.”

He held her where he wanted her with aggravating ease. “I don’t think so.”

She glared at him. “And what do you know?”

“That you promised to answer me honestly.”

His weight shifted forward as he settled into a better position, bringing that hard cock to the forefront of her attention. All she needed to do was slide her palm up the solid muscle of his thigh and she could touch it, make it leap and throb, give him pleasure. All he had to do was press on her neck and give her a command and she wouldn’t have any choice. Why didn’t he just do it?

His fingertips caressed the nape of her neck but didn’t pull away, which meant she didn’t have any choice but to answer the question she’d promised to.

“It just feels wrong to enjoy it.”

“‘Going to hell’ wrong?”

She wished it were that simple.

She licked her lips. “Wrong because of my past, how we married, wrong because of how this will all turn out. Wrong because I’m me and you’re you and you deserve so much better.”

“So you’re protecting me?”

She shook her head, her gaze locked on his cock. Was it her imagination or had it really gotten bigger? She’d promised him honesty. She glanced at the clock. Five seconds left. “I’m protecting myself.”

His thumb tipped her chin up before moving to the corner of her mouth. “And now, sweetheart. Who are you protecting now?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

His thumb pressed, parting her lips, and she had a sinking feeling she hadn’t concealed her thoughts at all. His next words convinced her.

“Denying yourself my cock? Who is that protecting? Me or you?”

Humiliation swamped her in a deluge of heat. He knew, knew how her mouth watered to taste him; knew how she wanted to make him come. She closed her eyes, unable to watch the confirmation change his expression from intent to smug. She forced the small whisper out. “I don’t know.”

“Look at me.”

She opened her eyes, expecting smug victory. Instead, she found something else. Emotion. It was pure, unadulterated emotion that tightened the harsh planes of his face to an utterly masculine edge of demand. A demand everything inside her that was feminine clamored to appease. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. All she could do was stare helplessly at him as he asked, “What were you thinking when you were looking at my cock?”

Oh, Lord. He was going to make her say it. “You said only one more question.”

“I lied.” Without any remorse he ordered, “Tell me, Desi.”

His tone brooked no denial. And truth was, she was tired of maintaining the pretense. She allowed her hand to travel those few critical inches to cuddle the broad head of his shaft, letting it settle into the cup of her palm. What did it matter now?

“I was thinking how nice it would be to make you happy.”

He cut to the chase with his usual efficiency. “By taking me in your mouth?”

The only time she ever saw him relaxed was after he came. “Yes.”

His cock leapt beneath her palm.

“How?”

She focused on her hand on his cock, on fitting the ridge precisely into her palm so she didn’t have to focus on the humiliation, hoping he would let it go before her control snapped. “Gently.”

“Why?”

The wildness welled. She lashed out with her hand, aiming for his face. He caught it in his, curtailing the impulse, controlling it.

“What does it matter?” It was almost a wail.

“Because I want to know.”

“I just wanted to give you some softness. All right? That’s all.”

“Why?”

She rested her cheek against his thigh, giving up. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does.”

Then he was just going to have to stew right along with her. “I don’t know.”

His thumb tipped her chin up, no doubt because he wanted to read the truth in her eyes. She raised her lids, letting him see whatever he wanted there. It wouldn’t change anything. “Ah, Desi girl, you really don’t know, do you?”

And he did? “I told you I wouldn’t lie.”

“So you did.”

There was something different about his expression now, too subtle to define, but her body responded to it. Softening, peaking, yearning. A tickling sensation shot up from her palm. She looked down. She was stroking his cock through the rough cotton of his pants. When she glanced back up, Caine was smiling, but it wasn’t a mocking smile. His thumb touched the corner of her mouth.

“Don’t ever think I don’t want your softness, Gypsy, or that I don’t value it.”

“You like it?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It’s natural, sweet and rare.”

He wasn’t lying. Some of his confidence flowed into her. She cocked her head to the side. “That’s not what my mother told me.”

His harshly beautiful face lit up with genuine amusement. “I seriously doubt your mother brought up that particular delight at all.”

“No,” she admitted with a small smile. “She didn’t.”

But she wished she had. Then maybe she’d be able to sort out the feelings inside.

“Do you still want to make me happy?” Caine asked.

Heat shot through her, not all of it from embarrassment. Desi measured his length with her fingers. He was a big man all over. It would be so easy for him to hurt her, but he never did. She remembered how hard he’d struggled to please her while she fought him, remembered the bliss of his mouth on her privates. How the flick of his tongue could shatter her defences and leave her open and vulnerable. Replete. She stroked him softly before sliding her hand higher, toward the buttons. “You won’t be upset?”

“Sweetheart, you can take my cock into that sweet mouth anytime you want and all you’ll find under your ministrations is a very happy man.”