CHAPTER THREE

I woke late, a little slower than usual. My neck cracked loudly as I dragged myself out of bed and searched for my phone on the floor. I snatched it, swiping the screen to reveal a barrage of texts from my group chat with Emmy and Delaney.

My stomach flipped as the memories of last night came flooding back, sending heat curling through my stomach and making my clit pulse.

He’d touched me—no one had touched me in years.

My skin was deliciously raw, like I could still feel his fingertips on my thighs and his tongue on my pussy.

Flustered, I vaulted out of bed and ran into the bathroom, pulling the curtain back to let the sunlight flood the room. In the mirror, my naked body stared back at me.

My fingertips skimmed over the pink marks on my skin. At first, the memories felt good, like a sweet secret only I knew. But the longer I stared at those fingerprints, the more I was torn on what I’d done.

One part of me was elated all it had taken to make him fold was for me to giggle and twirl my hair once. He’d be easy to work alongside. I could get in, make the important deals, and get out before he knew what was happening. I could take all the credit and prove to my father I didn’t need a partner for this deal.

The other part of me dreaded having to face him now. Had I fucked up the mission?

We were scheduled to have our first meeting within the week, and he was going to realize who I was as soon as I walked in.

And he was going to know I’d known.

Heart thumping, I flipped the shower on and stepped in, letting the hot water wash him away as I scrubbed until my skin glowed. Normally, I worked out before I showered, not after.

But I needed to be clean right now.

It was sinking in that I’d messed up before we’d even started. My hands shook as I toweled off and lined up my vitamins, filling a glass with water.

In the fridge in my bedroom, I grabbed the last green juice and poured it into one of my crystal glasses. Even the slightly bitter acquired taste couldn’t make me feel like myself again.

I was used to order, neatness, being pretty, wearing pearls, sitting with my ankles tucked properly.

I didn’t go home with tattooed mafia soldiers.

He’d thrown me off my game. I needed to get back on track, or he was going to wipe the floor with me in that meeting, and I couldn’t have that.

Plus, I was annoyed.

For some reason, it was pissing me off that he’d gotten me to cave so quickly. Yes, I had seduced him, but he’d done a lot of seducing himself before we even agreed to hook up. All he’d done was buy me a drink and have sexy tattoos.

Clearly, that was enough for him to get my panties down around my ankles.

Wrathfully, I brushed my teeth. I might not feel like myself, but no one needed to know that. By the time I’d slipped into my yoga set, I was feeling a lot better.

Everything was back to how it should be. Equilibrium was achieved.

I grabbed my juice and headed into the mini gym off my room. Soft meditation music on the timed speakers drifted through the morning air wafting in through the window. I rolled out my mat and slid into a gentle downward dog, letting my muscles sink and rest.

Usually, I enjoyed the gentle stretch I did after my shower. Today, it gave me a little twinge between my legs. I frowned, noticing for the first time that my pussy was sore. Rolling onto my back, I extended my calves and ankles, letting my hand drift down and skim over my sex through the cloth.

There it was—a little twinge where he’d worked his magic.

I flipped over and slid into a pigeon pose, glaring up at the ceiling as I extended my spine.

Five times.

Last night, he’d made me come five times. That should be illegal or something.

I cracked my neck and switched legs.

Who was he anyway? All I knew about him so far was that he worked for Merrick Llwyd, the head of the Welsh Mafia organization. My father hadn’t briefed me any further than that, so I was going into his office the minute I had a chance to uncover the rest. I’d have to be casual about it—my father could never know what had happened last night.

I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but I knew it would be negative. He was always trying to point me in the direction of nice young men who graduated from Harvard who wore checkered button ups.

My father had a specific idea of who he wanted me to be and who he wanted me to marry. I had to be pretty and perfect like a doll, a flawless representation of his business with an ideal son-in-law at my side.

I frowned, trying to center my focus. I did yoga every morning, but I’d never had this much trouble with it.

Caden was everything I wasn’t allowed to have. Maybe that was why I’d caved so fast and let him bring me home, not because there was anything special about him.

Just because he had tattoos, hard abs, and a motorcycle. Not because he had the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen.

Frustrated, I got to my feet and turned off the speakers. I hadn’t even broken a sweat, so I changed into my work clothes and did my makeup. My outfit for today was typical—a cream pencil dress, white gold accessories, mauve lipstick.

I fixed my hair, grabbed my purse, and went downstairs to face the day.

My father stood in the front hall. He was a stoic man who was always perfectly dressed in a light-colored suit, his gray flecked hair slicked back from his hard lined face. He glanced up from sorting a pile of mail, fixing his steel gray eyes on me.

“Morning, honey,” he said. “Heading into the office?”

“Just to drop some paperwork off,” I said, standing on my toes to kiss his cheek.

He sent me an approving look, setting the mail on the hall table. The front hallway was one of my favorite places in the entire house, huge with a curved ceiling and stone walls that led the way to the double doors with glass panes. As a girl, I’d ridden my tricycle up and down these marble floors for hours.

“Do you want brunch?” he asked. “It’s in the garden.”

I considered skipping and picking up something on the way to work but decided against it. This might give me an opportunity to find out more about Caden without my father suspecting anything.

“That sounds nice,” I said, setting my purse down.

We went out into the garden. It was a large, well-manicured part of the lawn with stone pathways, trimmed hedges, and pale wicker furniture. Around the side was the open gazebo, already set with breakfast. I sank down into my usual chair and kicked my heels off, tucking my feet in. My father sank down, reaching for the coffee.

“How was your night with Emmy and Delaney?” he asked.

Guiltily, I held out my cup and let him fill it with coffee. “It was good; we were out late.”

“I saw Louis had someone go get you at three,” he said. “Did your friends make it home alright?”

I glanced down at my phone. From the barrage of texts, they’d gone to Delaney’s and spent the night speculating about what I was doing.

“Yeah,” I said. “It was nice. We all had fun.”

I’d definitely had more fun than I’d ever had with anyone in my life. My father nodded, distracted by his phone pinging. I cleared my throat and stirred my coffee, gazing out over the garden.

Why did it feel like this changed everything?

Plenty of people hooked up. I hadn’t even had sex with Caden. Surely, we could hit the reset button and pretend nothing happened? It was in his best interest, just like mine, to not mention what had happened. He didn’t seem like the kind of person to be reckless.

My mind wandered back to his apartment. It was intimidating. Everything was minimal and clean, but there were so many strange things here and there, I wasn’t sure if I liked it. The weapons on the walls. The chandelier made of bones. The rug in the living area printed like a medieval tapestry.

All the ink curling on his skin.

Those heavy eyes that seemed to hold back something, like if I fell into them, I might fall through space until there was nothing left but sweet darkness.

I shivered.

“You alright?” my father asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Is there anything you want from the office before our meeting tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I have a report on your partner for you to take a look at. It’s in my office.”

A little twinge of irritation went through me. I was beyond flattered that he was trusting me with it, but why did I need Caden to help?

Frankly, it was a little insulting.

I took a breath, composing my face. “Are you sure a partner is necessary?”

He gave me a level stare. “Trust me on this.”

“I’m just saying, I can do this alone,” I protested.

“Circe,” he said, not unkindly. “You’re my daughter, but I’m also your boss. Don’t argue with me about your assignments.”

His voice was firm. I squared my shoulders and committed to pretending it didn’t matter. If I could lie about having hooked up with Caden last night, I could lie about this.

“What’s his name again?” I asked casually.

“Caden Payne,” my father said. “He’s Merrick Llwyd’s most trusted soldier. From what I can tell, he’s been transitioning him into right hand duties the last few years and transitioning his old commander into other roles. I looked into it, and it seems it started around the time Caden made contact with me about funding the Wyoming base.”

“Which means?”

My father glanced up, pale eyes glinting. “You tell me.”

I chewed my lip. “Caden is important. The Wyoming base is the biggest deal Merrick Llwyd’s ever made, so he’d only put someone he trusted in charge of it. So maybe Caden was…working on something else before? And now he’s getting switched?”

My father nodded and shook his head. “Yes. No. He’s important. But why?”

We’d done this so many times before. He’d push me, make me learn to think like him. I was good at it after all this time, but this one stumped me. I closed my eyes and thought back over Caden last night, studying his image in my mind’s eye.

“He…worked on something illegal before,” I said. “Important, but secret.”

“Not bad.” My father poured another coffee, taking a sip. “But no.”

Frustrated, I closed my eyes again. Sometimes, I felt like my father could be a little patronizing.

The image of Caden’s dark blue gaze and heavy lids appeared in my mind. He looked wary, guarded, like he had a secret.

My eyes snapped open.

“He’s someone to Merrick,” I said. “He’s personally important outside of work.”

“Excellent.”

“Who is he replacing within the Welsh organization?”

“Yale Bennett,” my father said. “He trains their soldiers alongside Caden, but recently, Caden has been pulled into the spotlight and given the Wyoming Project.”

“So he’s not dirty,” I said.

“Oh, he’s dirty,” my father said. “But on paper, he’s clean. Yale’s the opposite, which is why he didn’t get the Project, since it’s all legal.”

I stared across the garden to my koi pond. “So who is Caden Payne?”

My father set his phone down, and I leaned in, glancing down at a photo on the screen. It was Merrick Llwyd at a statue unveiling, with Caden standing in the background, looking like a bodyguard with sunglasses and tattoos up his neck.

I brought the phone closer, squinting. Merrick was tall, almost six and a half feet, and Caden was an inch or two shorter. They both had lean, muscular builds and handsome faces. Their hair was dark, almost black, and Merrick’s eyes were turned to the camera, dark blue with heavy lashes.

My brows shot up.

“Caden is related to Merrick,” I said.

My father leaned back, taking a packet of organic cigarettes out. I always scolded him for having one, but today, I was too distracted. The lighter flicked, and I ignored it, too busy staring at the two men.

“He is,” my father said. “I suspected when he was assigned to this mission that there was something more going on. He’s incredibly talented; don’t underestimate him. Merrick is clearly trying to mold him into a right hand.”

“Against his will?”

“From what I can tell, yes.”

I handed the phone back. “Merrick is how old?”

“Forty-seven.”

“And Caden is…thirty,” I said slowly. “Merrick’s either his father or his uncle.”

“From what I can tell, Merrick had an accidental pregnancy with someone he didn’t know well when he was a teen,” my father said. “I tracked down who I think was Caden’s mother, and she was in the States nine months before his birth, in Rhode Island.”

I stared into the distance, trying to absorb this information. Things were changing fast. Last night, I’d gone to the bar for a girls’ night and ended up with the son of the Welsh Brenin’s tongue between my legs.

Oops.

This was a lot more complicated than I’d realized.

“Interesting,” I said lightly, getting to my feet. “Alright, I’m going into the office, and I’ll grab the report off your desk later. It was good to have breakfast. See you tonight.”

I kissed his cheek and left him in the garden, scrolling his phone. In the hall, I grabbed my purse and hit the garage door button in the foyer. Across the driveway, it lifted to reveal my topless convertible, white with mauve trim and vegan leather seats.

I drove into the city with fluffy pop blasting from my speaker. In the parking lot of Johansen Enterprises, I parked in my designated spot and pulled out my phone. Last night, on the way home, I’d saved his number.

But I hadn’t texted him.

I stared down at the name: Caden Payne.

It sounded like a nice name for a nice boy I could take home to meet my father, not like the man who’d eaten me so well that he left fingerprints on my hips. Arousal fluttered, and my finger hovered over his name. With a sudden surge of what could only be described as bravery, I tapped it, brought up my messages, and typed quickly.

Hey, this is Cece.

Heart thumping, I hit send.

It went through. There was a second, and then I could tell he’d read it.

No, it’s not.

Frowning, I texted: Is this Caden?

Don’t fuck with me. You want to talk, bring that ass over. You know where to find me, Circe Johansen.

Heat poured through my body as my heart thrummed. I sat there for a solid ten minutes, just staring down at my phone. Then, three typing bubbles appeared and rolled. My jaw dropped.

Get the fuck over here, Circe.

No one talked to me like that, not even my father. Rage flooded me, and I blindly typed and hit send.

I don’t even know where you are, and you’re really rude.

You know my address. Have your driver bring you.

Furious, I threw my car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. How dare he talk down to me like that? I hadn’t done anything to him; we’d both mutually agreed to hook up.

Not that it was a real hook up, of course.

I barely remembered the drive into downtown or parking on the street and flouncing through his open garage to the entrance. My heels clattered on the stairs as my nerves thrummed. I knocked once, and he jerked open the door.

Damn it. He was all sweaty and, in the light of day, he was even sexier than last night, if that was physically possible.

He was a big man, but his build was lean, so he didn’t seem bulky. He wore black fatigues and boots, his t-shirt soaked through, sticking to his ridged abs. His wet hair was slicked back like he’d just run his fingers through it. The sunlight cut through his window, making his eyes glitter like sapphires.

“What happened to you?” I asked.

“I was teaching a bunch of kids self-defense,” he said. “No rest for the wicked and hungover.”

I stared at him, trying to pull my thoughts together. He smelled good—sweaty and salty like the ocean, but good. Between my legs, against my silk panties, arousal woke, warm like pooled lava.

My mind ran away from me, feeding me images I had no business entertaining. The animal part of me I clearly hadn’t constrained with hot yoga, herbal tea, designer dresses, and manicures roared to life, and it wanted Caden to slam me against the cupboards and fuck me hard.

I swallowed as my cheeks radiated heat.

“Can I come in?” I asked.

He considered it. “No thanks.”

I gasped. “You’re so rude.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Clearly you didn’t take it to heart.”

He shrugged, leaning in the doorway. “I’m not letting you in because you’re a liar. You went home with me knowing who I was. I’m also not letting you in because now that I know who you are, I know I’ve got no business sending the heiress of Johansen Enterprises back to her daddy with my handprint on her ass, which is what I’ll do if you put a foot into this apartment.”

My entire body burned. The air crackled between us, and his lips parted, though his heavy eyes stayed blank.

He was so arrogant, so sure of himself.

I cleared my throat, trying to get my temper reined in. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.”

“Well, you did.”

“It wasn’t personal,” I said, tilting my chin. “I thought you looked like a good time.”

“I am a good time, but I come with baggage you can’t handle.”

I glowered—he was probably right. He stepped over the doorstep and crossed his arms, towering over me. I forced myself to stand straight and not back down.

“We’re done here,” he said. “No one will hear about last night from me.”

Maybe deep down, I’d been afraid of that all along, because those words drained some of the tension. Our eyes met, and I swallowed back my pride.

“I think that’s for the best,” I said.

“I need to get ready for my afternoon shift.”

His eyes were hard. It was slowly sinking in that maybe I couldn’t work Caden the way I did businessmen. Maybe he wasn’t swayed by my usual methods. It was also dawning on me that he was a lot smarter than I’d anticipated.

“How did you know who I was?”

He pointed at the doorway. “Night vision security cameras and facial recognition software.”

I swallowed. I’d been one step ahead last night. Now, he had me on defense.

“Maybe I didn’t know,” I said.

He sighed. “You wouldn’t have lied about your name if you didn’t know who I was.”

“I don’t use my first name with any strangers,” I snapped. “You’re not special.”

“I know,” he said before he shut the door in my face.