Oh, balls.
Heat radiated from behind me and I knew Caine had heard and interpreted Antoine’s comment. It wasn’t like it was hard to understand.
I never thought I’d want to run my way out of the hot boy sandwich I was in the middle of, but if the floor had opened up in front of me I’d have dived right into the gaping hole to escape the utterly awful awkwardness.
“True,” I murmured.
“And of course if you’re ever in Paris …” He leaned down and kissed me on my cheeks again, this time more slowly. His hand rested on my waist. “The new job suits you. You look beautiful.”
And if we’d had this encounter a few weeks ago, I’d be putty in his sexy-as-sin French hands.
Unfortunately my mind was muddled enough by the brooding businessman whose stare was burning holes into my skull. “Thank you,” I replied. “I’ll hopefully see you soon.”
Antoine smiled and then gave Caine a nod of acknowledgment before he left.
I gathered myself before sliding back onto the stool beside Caine and his foreboding expression.
I sucked in my breath and waited.
Just as I was beginning to think he wasn’t going to comment and I could relax, he finished his beer and scowled at me. “I presume you realize he wants to fuck you.”
I wrinkled my nose in distaste at his crudeness. “You really took my word for it on the whole not-pretending-to-be-a-gentleman thing, huh?”
He ignored me. “The question is, do you want to fuck him?”
Oh no. He did not get to be angry or jealous. And yes, okay, maybe I felt a little thrill course through me at the idea that he was jealous of Antoine, but at the same time it was unfair and confusing! Caine had already made it clear that what he got from me on Saturday night was all he was willing to take. He was not messing with my head now.
My answer to him was to slide off the stool with my drink. I sauntered casually across the room, as far as I could get from him, and settled in a seat with my mimosa and magazine.
I was glad we had an aisle between us in first class, because I was more likely to punch Caine than speak to him. Six hours later when the plane landed in Seattle, I was much calmer and actually managed to be civil to him as we made our way out of the airport to find our chauffeur waiting for us.
We were staying at the Fairmont Olympic and I tried not to gape as we wandered inside. I’d stayed at nice hotels before, but Benito favored extremely modern hotels. The Fairmont was old-school beautiful with its high ceiling and grand twin staircase at the end of the reception hall. Plush, expensive traditional chairs and sofas furnished the hall, and giant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting light over all the gleaming chestnut wood.
“Checking in under Carraway,” Caine said as a greeting to the young woman behind the desk.
She smiled and began typing on her computer. “Mr. Caine Carraway and a Ms. Alexa Holland. We have you booked for a deluxe executive suite, and a standard Fairmont room for Ms. Holland.”
Caine exhaled wearily and shot me a displeased look. “Again?”
I knew what he meant without having to ask. “I’m your PA. I’m perfectly happy with a standard room.”
He ignored me. “Can you upgrade the Fairmont room to a suite?”
The girl did a quick check and gave Caine an apologetic thin-lipped smile. “We only have a deluxe room available.”
“That’ll do.”
After we’d checked in and were walking toward the elevator, I said, “You really didn’t have to do that.”
“I’m not repeating myself,” he muttered impatiently.
“Right, appearances,” I muttered back.
Caine walked me to my room even though his was a couple of floors above mine. Once inside my perfectly lovely deluxe room, I spun around to face him. He lowered my bag to the floor by the television cabinet. “The dinner with Farrah Rochdale and Lewis Sheen is in the hotel restaurant,” I reminded him. “At seven o’ clock.”
He gave me a tight nod and started to back out of the room. “I’ll collect you at six fifty.”
A few seconds later he was gone and I could breathe properly again. I sank onto the beautiful bed and kicked off my heels. As I stared at the door, a feeling of melancholy began to bring me down. I fought to keep it at bay.
I just had to make it through dinner this evening and then tomorrow we were on that plane back to Boston. It was safer somehow in Boston. I could hold it together. Here, in close quarters with him, I was constantly reminded of the possibility between us, and Caine’s stubborn-ass refusal to see what might have been.
Promptly at six fifty I opened my hotel room door to Caine and I had to quickly look at my feet to hide my reaction to his appearance. He’d shaved off his scruff—the clean-shaven look was as hot as the unshaven look—and he was dressed in a light gray slim-fit three-piece suit.