The air around him seemed to swell with annoyance. “What?”
“An X. You know … a kiss …” I trailed off, wishing I was back in Hawaii with a mojito.
Quite abruptly Caine put his hands on the armrests of my chair and shoved it against the desk as he bent down to level his face with mine. He was so close I could actually see the chocolate coloring in his eyes that stopped them from being entirely black, and his mouth … his mouth was but an inch from mine.
I held my breath from the shock of his sudden movement and his closeness.
“First of all,” he said through clenched teeth, his hard stare holding mine in its grip, “do I look like a man who would ever put a kiss at the end of a message?”
I didn’t have to contemplate the question long. “Not really.”
“Not really.” He nodded, and pushed in closer, his breath fanning my lips and causing me to swallow a gasp. “Second of all, if you ever meddle in my personal life again I will annihilate you. Understood?”
“W-well, annihilate is—it’s pretty final,” I stammered, “So—so yeah.”
His eyes flashed. “Alexa.”
I fought past my physical reaction to him in order to attempt an explanation. “I was just trying to help. I thought it would be more romantic. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“You weren’t helping,” Caine hissed. “Contrary to popular belief, I give a shit about the women I date. That means I don’t want to hurt them. And one way I avoid that is by never making a woman feel like she has more of me than she actually has, because inevitably it won’t work out and I don’t want to be the bastard that led her on. What you did with Phoebe will make me that bastard.”
That was kind of honorable in a fucked-up way.
“But why will things end?” I whispered, confused. “Phoebe Billingham is perfect for you.”
Something flickered across his face and then he grew scarily still. I held my breath as we stared into each other’s eyes. He was so close.
The sexy jackass smelled delicious.
For a moment I forgot where I was and who I was. Who I was to him. My eyes dropped to his mouth. It was right there. Right there.
Arousal shot through me and I glanced up quickly, afraid he’d catch sight of my desire, but to my surprise I found his eyes trained on my lips.
They parted under his stare.
Caine’s gaze returned to mine. The tingling between my legs increased at the heat in his.
“Don’t do it again,” he said softly, his voice hoarse.
“New bully tactics, Caine?”
Caine jerked away from me at the interruption and I sucked in some much-needed air.
Standing beyond us was Henry Lexington. He looked back and forth between us, smirking.
“Henry.” Caine nodded at him, seeming perfectly composed.
I was not.
I crossed my legs, willing the heat in my body away. I just knew if I touched my cheeks I’d burn my knuckles.
“I thought we had lunch plans,” Henry mused, and his eyes darted past Caine to me.
“We do. Let me just grab my jacket.” He disappeared into his office and Henry approached my desk.
He grinned down at me. “We meet again.”
I smiled, still trying to shake off the intense moment with Caine. “I think technically I have you to thank for the job. If you hadn’t gotten me in to see Mr. Carraway, I wouldn’t be here.”
“That’s right.” Henry’s blue eyes twinkled with good humor as he leaned on my desk with flirtation written all over him. “So in a way you owe me. I do so like to have a beautiful woman in my debt.”
“Do you have a lot of those?”
“Only one of them is interesting.” He cocked his head, curious. “You are a mystery. Caine won’t tell me where you came from or how he knows you. Naturally I’m intrigued.”
I was sure he was, and I was also sure the last thing I’d ever do was reveal a part of Caine’s tragic history, and frankly I was tied up in that in a way that depressed me. “We met in Hollywood.”
Henry raised an eyebrow. “Hollywood?”
“Mmm-hmm. Boulevard.” I sighed in exaggeration, leaning my chin on my palm in dreamy retrospection. “Oh, those were the days. I was a lowly hooker looking for a white knight, and he was a rich billionaire who didn’t know how to drive a stick. I showed him how and the rest is history.”
Henry frowned. “What?”
“It’s the plot to Pretty Woman,” Caine said dryly. He leaned against the door to his office with something akin to amusement on his face. He pushed off the jamb and gestured to Henry to follow him. “Did I mention my new PA is a smart-ass?”