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Dirty Little Secret(46)

By:Ella Sheridan


Opening the door, Alex stood and stared, his breath frozen. Cailin held out her hands from her sides, offering herself for inspection as she waited on the front steps. The movement showcased her delectably feminine figure, outlined to perfection in candy-red chiffon. The dress reminded him of red hots, so much so that his mouth watered. Material lovingly draped her round breasts, slinked along her nipped-in waist, and parted provocatively at midthigh to reveal Marilyn Monroe legs he desperately needed wrapped around him soon. Thank God for the tux, which helped cover an instant erection he couldn’t have stopped without medical intervention. And when she turned to close the door behind herself, he almost swallowed his tongue.

“Oh God.”

Cailin peeked over her shoulder and grinned. The bare expanse of silky-smooth skin from her neck to her tailbone gleamed in the overhead light. “Like it?” she whispered huskily.

Since all the spit in his mouth had dried up, Alex could only nod, his gaze glued to the tiny dimples winking on either side of the barely visible tops of her perfect ass cheeks. Damn.

“Where the hell did you find that dress?” he asked huskily.

“Oh, ask Sara Beth.” Cailin turned, her breasts jiggling lightly in a way that drew his attention immediately—and probably every other guy in the place as soon as they saw them. “I’m sure she’ll take me back if you like this one.”

“Uh-huh.” Fascination rose as her nipples visibly peaked beneath the soft material. The urge to find a shawl, towel, blanket—anything—and hide her in it almost overwhelmed him. He drew a shaky hand down his face.

“Alex. What the hell are you doing lollygagging in here? Come mingle, for God’s sake.”

John’s voice jerked Alex out of the haze enveloping him. He didn’t miss the softening of Cailin’s nipples as her desire fled. The rest of her body tensed.

“Um, why don’t you go ahead? I’ll stay and answer the door if anyone else arrives.”

He nodded before glancing out of the stained-glass side light. “There are only two we’re missing now.” Turning back, he fought not to get lost in her eyes again. “Be sure and come in when they do.”

“Alex!”

The tiny flinch of Cailin’s body made him want to throw something. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he told her.

She nodded, hastily turning toward the front door. He wished he could escape so easily.

John hauled him aside before Alex could enter the main living room. The man’s grip on his tux was ruthless, demanding Alex’s attention. “It’s the secretary, isn’t it? You’re fucking your secretary.”

A hot burst of rage lit his mind. Sparing a glance over his shoulder to make certain Cailin was out of range of his father-in-law’s accusations, he clamped down hard on his tongue and forced himself to silence. Denying he was sleeping with anyone but his wife wouldn’t make a bit of difference to John, even if Alex could have lied with such blatancy. Instead he simply stared at John and let the man dig his own hole.

“As much as I love Sara Beth”—at John’s words, Alex bit into the tender muscle in his mouth so hard blood surged into his throat—“a man has his needs. But a secretary?” Disgust colored the word. “That’s just cliché.”

“She’s my executive assistant, John. Get with the times.”

“Exec—” An impatient flick of his hand. “Whatever. She’s a woman, an available woman if her naked ring finger is the truth, not that it always is. But regardless, you don’t piss in your own watering hole. If you need a little something on the side, do what we always did: keep them in an apartment somewhere, far away. Not in the office.”

As if Cailin were a two-bit whore Alex just played around with. “I never said I was sleeping with her.”

“But you looked at her.”

Shit! Was it that obvious? John was astute, but so were many of the men he worked with. Had he put the woman he loved in that precarious a position? “So? A man can look.” He threw a nod over his shoulder, knowing Cailin was visible as she stood at the front door, looking out onto the driveway. “Wouldn’t you?”

John’s eyes on his woman made bile rise in Alex’s throat. “Of course I did,” John said. “And when you’ve done your duty by Sara Beth and provided an heir, you can look—and touch—all you want. But. Not. At. The. Office.”

“Fuck off, John.” Before he said anything else he’d regret, Alex walked into the living room. Away from his father-in-law. Away from the urge to kill. And away from the fear that Cailin might one day see their situation with the very same unrosy glasses.