Filthy Rich

  I made a decision. I gathered up all of the mess and trashed the whole lot of it.

  I went into my home office and logged on to Target.com. I ordered new condoms and selected the option to pick up in the store. I forwarded the confirmation to Victoria and told her to pick them up and bring them to the penthouse. I didn’t obsess over the awkwardness of my request, either. She was my personal assistant, and I paid her very well to do a job. If I needed her to pick up condoms, then her job that day was to pick up condoms—what I was fucking paying her to do.

  Jesus, I was tense. I needed Brooke to de-stress me with her own particular brand of magic. X-rated images danced through my mind at the thought of exactly how she could accomplish it, too.

  Aaaaaand that just led to wondering about what was happening tonight. We hadn’t discussed it, and I imagined she would want to go home to her own house. A fucking depressing thought. I didn’t want her on the Blackstone Island Ferry anymore. The weather was unpredictable and could sink a boat in minutes under bad conditions. The risk to her safety made me mental.

  We needed to have a serious talk about a long list of things, but mostly I just wanted to be with her again tonight. I wanted to be with Brooke—pretty simple.

  Now that I’d found her I couldn’t be without her.

  Pussy. Pussy! PUSSY!

  “And what is your point?” I said to my inner demons.

  “I have a problem.” There’s something to be said for unburdening your true feelings to someone you care about, because the minute the words were out of my mouth, I felt instantly better. I knew Brooke’s beautiful voice would soothe me even if the building were in flames and crumbling down around me.

  “Oh? Tell me about it.”

  “Well, I met this beautiful girl, and she has completely captivated me in just a short time of knowing her. Last night . . . aaah, we shared the most amazing night together, and now I can’t stop thinking about her, or wondering when I can see her again.”

  She laughed softly into the phone, and I pictured her lips as she did it. “You say this is a problem, but if you like her and she likes you, then why do you call it a problem?”

  “Well, that is a very good question. Have I told you yet, how smart you are? If I haven’t, then I’ve been remiss, because I think you are very, very smart.”

  “So do you have a problem or not?”

  “Oh yes, I have an additional problem.”

  “Will you share it with me, Caleb?” she asked with a hint of teasing.

  “All right then. You won’t laugh at me?”

  “Ahhh, I might possibly laugh, but not at you—only with you—because you are funny.”

  “Back to my problem, Brooke.”

  “Right, the elusive problem you can’t seem to spit out for the life of you.”

  It was my turn to laugh. She could string the simplest of words together in a statement, but coming out of her mouth, it transformed into pure poetic prose. “I’m going out of the country on a business trip the day after tomorrow on a red-eye. And I want another night with her before I have to leave for a week, because I know I will miss her every day that I’m away.”

  Silence. And then the soft sob I’d heard this morning when her emotions blasted her. Shit. I made her cry, again?!

  “Brooke . . . baby . . . it’s okay.” I waited and tried to remember what she’d told me this morning, about how this—whatever the fuck they were: sudden emotional episodes—never happened to her before the accident.

  “I’m fine,” she breathed back at me after what felt like an eon of time. “You just surprised me with another wonderful moment, Caleb. You should maybe slow that down a bit.”

  I laughed again, and I felt so fucking relieved to know that if I was making her cry, at least it was the wonderful-moment kind and not the other. “I will try, but it’s probably impossible to limit my wonderful moments with you, Brooke.” Straight-up truth.

  “I think I have a solution to your problem, Caleb. Would you like to hear it?”

  “Yes, I’d love to hear it.” It sounded like she might take pity on me and stay over again. I mentally crossed my fingers.

  “Well, I am going home tonight. I need to be in my normal environment and go about my usual routines. I visit Nan at physical therapy, and there is the wedding coming up, too, which I work on planning at night, and also getting her things packed up to move into Herman’s house in a very short time. She’s being released from the hospital this Thursday, and I’ll be taking the rest of this week off work so I can be home to prepare, and to help her get settled.”

  “You are very busy,” I said, trying not to let her hear my disappointment at knowing she wouldn’t be sleeping in my bed tonight. She wouldn’t even be back to Boston at all before I left on my trip.

  “Yes but busy doing things I love. It sounds as if you’ll be booked up as well, considering you have an international trip in a few days. Where are you going?”

  “Abu Dhabi. It’s the World Sustainability Summit. I go every year.” I suddenly hated the idea of going this year.

  “Well, I don’t know what commitments you have at work before you leave for Abu Dhabi on Wednesday night, but if you are free to take some time off, you could come and stay with me at the cottage . . . and experience south-end island life for a few days.” She paused in the silence. “If the idea is to your liking, of course.” God, I fucking love you.

  “Yes, the idea is to my liking. Yes, I’m free to take the time.” No wasted words there. My heart was about to explode out of my chest, but I was answering her in coherent sentences at least.

  “Will you come on the five-thirty ferry with me, or are you getting there on your own at a later time?” she asked softly.

  “Oh . . . most definitely on the five-thirty ferry with you, beautiful,” I answered.

  Brooke

  Caleb emerged from the backseat of the Mercedes with a leather bag in his left hand and an autumn bouquet of flowers in his right. A supremely hot man boarding the ferry whilst carrying flowers got more than a few heads turning—and even some smirks, as he walked right over and greeted me with a kiss that stole my breath. Lucky me.

  “Have you ever taken this ferry before?” I asked, after he ended the kiss.

  “When I was a kid with the Boy Scouts I did,” he said, looking over the side with a frown. “Why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no reason other than you don’t really have the vibe of a BIF annual pass holder going on, is all.” I shaped my hands around the outline of his body for emphasis. Caleb still wore the navy blue suit he’d put on this morning, but he’d replaced the shirt and tie for a jumper in a mustard color that popped against the blue. It would be hard to miss him in a crowd. Even when dressing down, he still looked expensive. “But hot. Incredibly hot.”

  I forced myself to tamp down the images of us together last night still playing in my head and making me ache for more of the same. I had to suppress them, or I might do something utterly indecent in front of our audience on this very public ferry boat.

  Caleb Blackstone had infected me with the desire to belong to him, to be more than just sexual partners in some really superb shagging. He made me feel like I mattered, like I was important to him and he needed me. It was the most wonderful feeling, experiencing that with him last night.

  And absolutely fucking terrifying at the same time.

  I could tell he liked my comment about being incredibly hot because his eyes flared. “No? And here I thought I was doing a good job of fitting right in.” He handed me the mixed bouquet of flowers. “For you.”

  “They’re gorgeous. Thank you for being so thoughtful, Caleb, as always.”

  “You are gorgeous. Thank you for inviting me, Brooke. I—I really wanted more time with you before I leave. There’s so much I want to know about you . . . and experience with you,” he said.

  I loved how Caleb’s eyes looked right now. The blue of them was intensified by his choice of clothing, and even the gold ringing th
e blue iris matched the color of the sweater he’d chosen. Beautiful eyes that penetrated right into my heart. Somehow Caleb had gotten inside my heart.

  And that meant my heart was now in very grave danger of being hurt—which was the fucking terrifying part.

  I led him inside to a bench seat where I was pulled in to rest my back against his chest as soon as we sat down and settled our things. He placed his chin on top of my head and took one of my hands in his. All of his gestures very sweet as he went about the business of touching me. Caleb seemed to need the touching as much as I did.

  I felt warm and could smell the delicious scent unique to him enveloping me. I was being held by someone whose arms I wanted around me. All new experiences.

  The hour-long commute would make me happy tonight.

  Because Caleb would be holding me.

  WATCHFUL is how I would describe Caleb as we left the boat. He carried both bags as I led him to where the car was parked. It reminded me of shopping at Target with him actually. He didn’t use public transportation, and I’d only seen Isaac driving him around the city, so I imagined he was “learning” his way through this experience, too.

  When I stopped at Woody and stuck my key in the lock to open up the back hatch, he paused—surprised—I was sure of it, before catching himself and stowing our bags inside. I doubted Caleb had ever been driven around in a car older than him before, but he didn’t say anything. He merely followed me to the driver’s side and opened the door for me after I’d unlocked it. Even though he was the passenger, Caleb did not forget his lovely manners. I had to pinch myself in the brief space of time it took for him to walk around to the other side and get in with me. Caleb was coming home with me. Caleb. Was. Coming. Home. With. Me.

  Once we were both in, he turned toward me and said, “I need to do something first.”

  “What’s that?”

  He leaned over the console and took my face in his hands—a gesture I adored from him—and whispered, “This.”

  Caleb kissed me senseless, deeply and thoroughly until I probably couldn’t remember my own name, let alone drive. His scratchy beard caressed around my lips as he pulled on the bottom one with his teeth, teasing me until I was a wet mess—ready to straddle him in a public car park. Seriously, the man was sexually dangerous, and all he’d done was put me in the car and kiss me.

  “Careful, or I’ll never be able to drive us,” I murmured against his mouth.

  “Sorry.” He backed off, but he kept one hand under my chin and rubbed his thumb along my bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.” More with the beautiful, blue-with-gold-rings-around-them eyes studying me for a serious moment. “I’m okay now,” he said with his little-boy smirk. “We can go.” A beat or two of silence passed. “Where are we going?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. It was so nice to not care about the awkwardness that much. We were going to have to figure it out somehow, but if Caleb kept up with being so adorable, it wouldn’t be a problem for me. “We are going to stop in for a quick visit to Nan at therapy, and then I’m taking you to the cottage where I’ll make us some dinner. After that, we can do whatever you want.”

  “Whatever I want?”

  “As long as it involves warm socks on my feet, I am game,” I answered wickedly.

  “Uhmmmm . . .” he groaned lowly as he shifted in the seat. So he was feeling it, too . . .

  Good.

  Payback was fair play.

  “NAN, I’ve brought a friend with me—someone who knows you well. Do you remember—”

  “Caleb Blackstone, you may have grown taller, but I’d recognize your face anywhere. You look so much like your father when he was your age.” Nan’s face lit up, and she reached out her hand to him—which he took in both of his and held warmly.

  “Mrs. Casterley, you haven’t aged a day. It’s so wonderful to see you again. Brooke tells me you are about to be released from here.” I watched him greet my nan after nearly a decade and marveled at how lovely he was with people. Especially people he clearly adored. Caleb possessed social skills in conversation that, sadly, were lacking in many people of our generation, so I was content to sit back and watch them get reacquainted. I knew Nan would pin me to the wall later and want to know what I was doing with a man like Caleb Blackstone, and I’d have to tell her something.

  And what would that be? He treats me with respect, says he wants me, and makes me feel like the person I was before I made my terrible mistake. It was the truth, even if it scared me to believe it. She would be skeptical of his intentions toward me and probably ask him outright. She didn’t work for his family anymore, so she wouldn’t be censored by any sense of obligation to hold back her opinions from a respected employer, plus Nan was very protective of me now, especially after Marcus . . .

  My inner reflections were interrupted when Herman strolled in with his own bouquet of autumn flowers in his hand. The Blackstone men were certainly blessed with romantic inclinations—something that probably served them very well when it came time for their women to show appreciation, like I was going to do as soon as I had Caleb alone in my cottage.

  “Is that my nephew I see flirting with my girl?” Herman bellowed.

  “Uncle Herman, I think some congratulations are due if I’m not mistaken.”

  As I watched the two of them reconnect, I was struck by the similarity in body shape and bone structure. I knew why I’d told Caleb he reminded me of someone I knew living on the island. Blood didn’t lie and it was clearly evident they were related. If I didn’t know better, I would think they were father and son.

  I overheard Caleb mention the Blackwater estate to Herman and watched the two of them go deep into conversation about it. He’d said he wanted to fix the situation of it being closed and the employees dismissed, so maybe he wanted Herman’s advice on the matter. It would be lovely to see Blackwater restored for some useful purpose if the family didn’t want it for holidays anymore. I hoped whoever bought the property had to consider its historic value beyond just an appraisal of house and land. I still thought it odd that he hadn’t known about it being shuttered and on the market. Didn’t his family communicate about something as important as a home that had been in the family for generations? Again, I had to shake my head at the problems of the rich . . .

  “HERMAN and Nan certainly enjoyed your visit this evening,” I said to him as I drove to the cottage over the twisty lanes I could navigate by the feel of the bumps and the turns.

  “I enjoyed it, too. I’m really glad you brought me there tonight. Thank you.” He reached over and gave my thigh a squeeze as if just his words weren’t sufficient to express his thanks.

  “Why so grateful, Caleb?”

  He sighed before answering. “Well, I guess it has something to do with being ashamed of losing interest in things that should hold a higher place of importance to me. After I finished up at Harvard, I went off and immersed myself in work and business to the point I excluded pretty much everything else, even my family. I regret that now, because I know now I missed out on a lot of time with the people I care about.”

  “It’s never too late to let them know how you feel.” I hesitated before telling him the rest of my thoughts. “When I saw you standing beside Herman tonight, I could clearly see the family resemblance between you. Very handsome men in the Blackstone gene pool I must say.”

  “Thank you. It makes me happy you think so. I could say the same about you and your grandmother, though. You two look very much alike, and your voices sound similar. I can hear you talking in my head when she speaks.” He leaned over the console again and spoke against my neck. “And beauty is something you have in abundance in case I’ve failed to mention it before.”

  He licked my neck, producing a shiver that shot straight down between my legs.

  “Driving here, Caleb,” I scolded him. “Behave or the we can do whatever you want offer goes out the window.”

  He just laughed softly into my ear before easing back in
to his seat. “I’ll behave then.”

  When I pulled into the single garage, I could sense he was taking everything in again, back into learning mode. He quickly came around and opened my door for me. It was going to take some getting used to his mannerly gestures. I opened the back, and he carried in the bags to the front porch.

  “This is it,” I said. “The cottage I will never sell as long as I live.” I busied myself with unlocking the door.

  “It’s very charming. I imagine the view is spectacular out the back.”

  “Oh, it is,” I said. “We can sit out there after we’ve eaten dinner. It’s lovely to see the lighthouse shining over the water even if it’s a bit chilly. We can bring a blanket.”

  “Let’s do that then.” He spoke right up against my neck, pressing into me from behind. I could feel the hard length of his whole body. His impressive erection solidly against my arse, too. This attraction with Caleb was crazy.

  Insanely. Wickedly. Crazy.

  But, care—I did not. Not anymore. How could I have ignored the man? He had wooed me. I didn’t believe he had wooed me for sex, either. My experience was limited, but it didn’t feel like I was a conquest to him. Caleb was different in that way.

  The key in the lock to my front door finally gave in to my attentions and turned. As it fell open, Caleb pressed us both forward. I heard bags dropping onto the floor along with my keys and the flowers—and then I was swallowed up by Caleb. I was lifted by strong arms that knew how to hold my body with care as he propped me up against the wall, and pushed in between my legs.

  “Aaahhh,” I moaned when I felt the press of his cock against my clit. I was already moving my hips against him, desperately needing him inside. “Please, Caleb . . . I—I want you.”

  “Sweet music to my ears, baby.” He slipped two fingers inside my knickers and started swirling them over my sensitive flesh. “Oh, fuck, you’re ready,” he said harshly before setting me down to stand on my own. “I have to put this on first.” He brought a condom packet out from his trouser pocket and shook it lightly back and forth.