CHAPTER SEVEN

The morning after he’d shown up in my garden, I went upstairs to my home office instead of heading to the city. When I joined the board of Johansen’s Enterprises, my father had surprised me with a fully renovated space where I could work from home.

I stepped inside and let the door fall shut. Everything was quiet. The curtains fluttered, revealing the balcony lined with blooming hyacinths. My desk sat in the center of the room, facing the far wall covered in bookshelves, so I had a good view of the double doors and the balcony that looked out over the orchard and koi pond.

There was a space in the yard beyond the rose garden not visible from down below. It was a rounded hilltop with a flat, grassy top. I blinked hard at it because…for a second, it looked like there were pillars rising into the sky.

What was wrong with me?

Maybe Caden and his talk of sleeping with me on a temple floor was getting to my head. No doubt that was exactly what he wanted.

Annoyed, I yanked the curtains shut. My heels clacked across the floor. Everything smelled faintly of hyacinths, the familiar scent calming. I settled myself into the cream swivel chair and flipped open my laptop to reveal a long list of emails waiting for me.

I sighed.

I was so grateful for everything I had. Not many people had a father who doted on them the way mine did or had a job set up for them as soon as they graduated. I’d worked so hard, putting in long hours, to feel like I deserved a small portion of what life had handed me.

But I was still tired sometimes.

I cracked my neck, startled by the crunching sound. My fingers tapped over my keyboard, answering the first set of emails on autopilot. They were easy, just approval for some raises.

It felt like it took much longer than it should have. This morning, I was dragging, and I needed to do something to get my head in the game because, unfortunately, I had a date later.

The first date I’d been on in years.

Rubbing my eyes, I rose and made an espresso at the kitchenette in the corner. As I waited for the creamy coffee to fill the cup, I tapped my foot, trying to keep my mind from going back to that night at his apartment.

Trying not to remember how his tattooed fingers dug into my hips.

How the muscles rippled down his stomach as he fucked me on the stone floor of Aphrodite’s temple.

Wait, what?

Damn it, he’d successfully messed with my head.

I grabbed my cup and sat down at my desk. My fingers hovered over the keyboard again, iridescent mauve nails glinting as I flexed my joints. Maybe I should get them done this afternoon after my date—something I wasn’t looking forward to but that I’d let Delaney push me into. I kicked my heel absently against the leg of my chair and started picking at my thumbnail.

My computer pinged. It was a reminder from my phone that my date was coming up. I needed to leave by eleven-thirty to get there by twelve. I glanced at my white gold watch—ten-fifteen.

I got up and finished my espresso, grabbing my phone and heading to the balcony. Outside, the air was warm and smelled of roses from the garden below. I swiped my screen, hit call and speaker. It rang once, and Delaney answered mid-yawn.

“Hey, what’s up?” she grumbled.

“I have a date with that guy,” I said. “At twelve. Feeling kind of bleh about it, so maybe I can just cancel?”

“No, you promised to date a little this year.”

“I will, just maybe not him.”

I heard her roll over, and I knew she was still in bed. “You promised. Just give him a chance. He’s a nice guy…I think. His dad does stock market stuff.”

“Yikes,” I murmured.

“Not like that kind of wall street. He goes to church.”

“Where?”

“Um…I think he’s a Presbyterian,” Delaney said.

“Well, I’m not. Look, we’re doomed to fail.”

I heard her get out of bed and the shower turn on in the background. “Listen, you”re not looking for someone to fulfill you. Circe Johansen needs a man to kiss her goodbye on the way to his job that you don’t know or care about so you can focus on your company. He just needs to give you good head and not talk too much.”

“Why’s that?” I laughed.

“You have everything else. What is a man going to do for you?” she yawned. “Except the good head part.”

My mind flashed with that arrogant smirk, cobalt eyes glittering like sapphires. Lids heavy with desire. Tattooed neck with sweat etching down between his collarbones. Tongue dragging over my clit as he held eye contact with me. My stomach flipped.

He wasn’t my type. He was all muscles and tattoos and a chip on his shoulder about everything, the antithesis of the man I was about to meet up with.

I sighed again, but this time louder. “He’s a total prep, Delaney.”

“Babe, go look at yourself in a mirror.”

“Okay…I’m elegant.”

She laughed. “Hey, I have to go, but text me if you really, really need me to get you out of the date. Have fun and give him a chance!”

“What was his name again?”

“Oh God. I’ll send you his profile.”

“You’re the best.” I tapped my phone, hanging up. It was almost eleven, so I left the office and headed back to my room.

It took me a half hour to find something to wear I felt comfortable enough in for a first date. In the end, I picked a mauve sweater, cropped jeans, and heeled shoes. Then, I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs and out the door. The front door security system beeped as I hit the remote, and the detached garage slid open, revealing my white and silver vintage convertible.

It was an eighteenth birthday gift from my father, and I practically lived in it when I wasn’t at home or the office.

I sank into the leather seat and pulled my heels off, tossing them on the floor. Barefoot, I pulled down the drive, flipping the radio on high. Warm sunlight fell in golden dapples over me as I headed into town, music wafting behind me.

It was the perfect day. Too bad I’d agreed to go on a date—I really should have been in the office by now.

It was twelve on the dot when I pulled up outside the Vengeful Mermaid on the other side of the river. Contrary to the pub-style name, it was an upscale, modern restaurant with an ocean view. Everything inside was airy and light, and the decor reminded me of a butterfly wing or a fish scale in iridescent greens, blue, and pinks.

I parked and stepped out, shielding my eyes. The parking lot was full, but there was a man standing by the door who I was pretty sure was my date. I swiped my phone and hit the link Delaney had sent.

Damian. That was easy enough to remember. I pushed my phone in my purse, arranged my face so I didn’t scare him off, and moved across the parking lot. He looked up and broke into a pleasant smile. He was nice looking, with dusky brown hair, gray eyes, and a wide, triangular grin.

He looked like he had a membership to a country club and called his mother every weekend. Very safe, very nice. My father would have loved to talk politics or business with him over a glass of scotch.

I drew near, feeling myself slip into my work persona, sweet and modest.

“Damian?” I asked.

He nodded. “Circe?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

He gave me an awkward side hug, and I saw his eyes run over me but stop before they got to my breasts. God, I was going to feel so bad when I turned him down. I could already tell he was sweet.

He led the way inside and even pulled my chair out. We were seated in the far-left corner with a stunning view of the ocean. Down below, I could hear waves crashing against the rocks. Even inside, it smelled faintly of the sea.

Salt, fresh air, and freedom.

Damian took a seat, and I offered him a smile.

“So what are you up to today? Other than this of course,” I asked brightly.

He shrugged. “Oh, you know, I had some work earlier. But today, I only did a half day because I have a meeting with your father. Our business sometimes crosses.”

“Who’s your father again?”

“Charles Galt.”

I frowned, trying to figure out why that name sounded familiar. “Oh, is he related to Vincent Galt who works with Merrick Llwyd?”

“Yeah, Vincent is my uncle.”

The waiter appeared, and I ordered a white wine, hoping he wouldn’t be put off by me having a glass in the middle of the day. He seemed fine with it. I sat quietly while he scanned the liquor menu and finally ordered a lite beer, something fancy with citrus in it.

My mind shot right to the first time I saw Caden, his eyes locked on me as he put his cheap beer to his lips, tatted throat bobbing as he swallowed.

God, he had no right being that confident.

I forced my eyes back to the man sitting before me. He had a kind face, but it was so clean cut. I wondered if he measured the half centimeter of stubble on his square jaw, or if it just stopped growing when it was the perfect length.

I glanced over my shoulder, catching my reflection’s eye.

I gave myself a once over. Perfectly manicured nails, holding my menu at the proper height. Napkin folded properly. Feathery false lashes shading my eyes. Mauve lipstick, perfectly in the lines.

Was I so different than him?

I swallowed past the dry lump in my throat and plastered my pleasant smile back into place, the one I used when I sat in boardrooms full of men. Damian leaned back in his chair, and I forced myself to give him the once over, trying to appreciate his looks and failing.

God, what was wrong with me? He was handsome.

“So, you have quite a resumé, Miss Johansen.”

My mind was blank. “I do?”

Damian was clearly having some reservations about me. His brows drew together in a polite, inquiring frown.

“Your job,” he said. “At your father’s company… I thought you were training to take over for him. Aren’t you the COO, or you will be?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I said, waving a hand.

For some reason, the ring on my middle finger—which was the correct size and never slipped—flew off my hand and smacked into the window. Mortified, I whipped around and cracked my knee on the table leg loud enough that the entire restaurant had to hear.

“Oh—fuck,” I swore, biting my lip as the word slipped out.

I clapped both hands over my mouth. Damian jumped to his feet and chased after the ring. It rolled down the middle of the room and clattered to a halt. I followed it with my eyes, face burning, as he scooped it up.

Then, my eyes moved higher.

My stomach twisted.

Caden was at the bar, Yale at his side, his back to me. They were deep in conversation, but those cobalt eyes were locked on me over Yale’s shoulder. His mouth curved in a short smile. Not a mocking one—no, this was much worse. There was a little pity in his gaze, like he was thinking poor girl, what a mess.

I swallowed, turning around and sitting down hard. This was officially the worst date ever, and it had nothing to do with Damian. He appeared at my side and chivalrously slipped the ring back onto my finger.

I released a short sigh as he sank down.

“You’re probably wanting to leave right now,” I said lightly.

His shook his head. “You’re not what I expected, but let’s give it a shot. We haven’t even ordered.”

I glanced over my shoulder. Caden cocked his head, and his eyes ran over Damian, looking at him like he was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. That pissed me off enough that I turned back around and offered him a sweet smile.

“I’d like that,” I said.

Caden Payne was going to sit there and watch me have a nice date. That was his punishment for that pitying smirk.

“Maybe our next date should be to the jewelers,” Damian said.

My eyes widened. “What?”

His brows shot up. “God, I meant to get your ring resized. I’m so sorry, today is not my day either. It was meant to be a joke.”

I reached across the table and patted his hand, which seemed to surprise him. “Still not more embarrassing than me flinging my ring at a window.”

He laughed, his shoulders relaxing. The waiter appeared, saving us, and I ordered a salad with steamed fish on the side. Damian got the pasta with mussels, and the waiter left us alone in agonizing silence.

I had a gulp of white wine. It was starting to hit my veins, making me bolder. I fluttered my lashes over the glass, and he cocked his head, clearly a little confused.

“So tell me what you do exactly,” I said.

He launched into an explanation of stock trading that made my face melt from boredom. I had to listen to this kind of talk all day long at work. I was sorry I asked, but I didn’t stop him, because he lit up talking about it.

Then, I had another glass of wine.

The second glass was a bad idea. My body swayed as I stood up and allowed him to kiss my cheek. He paid and put his hand on my elbow, leading me out into the hallway. Unwilling to let him walk me to the car, I paused, glancing down the hall.

“Hey, I’m going to the bathroom,” I said. “But thanks so much for the date. I’ll text you.”

We hugged awkwardly and parted. I watched him stride into the parking lot. My shoulders sagged, and I let out a sigh of relief as he drove away. That was the worst date I’d ever had with such a nice person, and I felt terrible about it, since I was not doing that again.

I straightened my sweater and strode down the hall. In the bathroom, I fixed my lipstick and pulled my hair into a ponytail to get it off my sweaty neck. The wine had me feeling warm. I needed to go sit at the bar and have a glass of ice water to make the room stop spinning.

And call an Uber. My father could pick my car up later.

I strode out of the bathroom, heels clicking, and ran right into a solid chest. Warm, firm hands clamped on my upper arms to keep me steady as cobalt eyes swam into view.

Caden.

Damn it.

“I thought you left,” I snapped, more aggressively than I intended.

“I was in the bathroom,” he said, gaze flicking over me. A crease appeared between his brows. “You can’t drive like this.”

I pulled back, narrowing my eyes. “Of course not. I’m calling an Uber.”

“Yale drove me here,” he said. “Let me drive your car back.”

“No, my father will pick it up.”

The corner of his mouth jerked. “No, I’ll drive your car back with you in it.”

I chewed my lip. To my surprise, he actually seemed genuine. I picked absently at my nail, staring past him at the hostess stand. It would be an inconvenience to have the car picked up later, and I’d have to explain to my father that I’d had too much wine at noon. He’d have questions, since I rarely drank during the day.

I wasn’t dying to explain my bad date to my father either, especially because Damian Galt was exactly the sort of man he wanted me to eventually marry, the kind of person who could be part of our company someday.

I sighed. “Okay, fine. You drive me home.”

The corner of his mouth twitched again. He had a way of smiling that was so arrogant, like nobody ever got the better of him. I fucking hated it.

He held out his hand, like he intended on escorting me, and I glared. I could hear his faint laughter as I strode out into the parking lot, heels clacking on the pavement. He followed me, walking easily with one arm hanging at his side.

He sank down in the cramped driver’s seat. He was in excellent shape, and I couldn’t help but sneak a glance as I climbed into the passenger side. He wore black fatigues and boots. His t-shirt rode up a little when he sat down, flashing some ink on his lower abs.

Rock hard abs, a little trail of dark hair going up. Heart sparked, and I plopped into the passenger side, slamming the door.

My body was a traitor.

He adjusted the seat, making room for those long legs, and hit the key fob. The engine purred, and the radio started playing. I glanced over again, watching as he searched the dashboard for something.

“What are you looking for?”

He ignored me, hitting the volume button to silence the music.

“Um…why did you do that?” I asked.

“Because it’s shit,” he said.

My jaw dropped, and he let out a sigh as his hand flexed on the wheel. There was a long silence as he pulled the car out onto the street.

“I’m trying to be less of a dick,” he said finally. “Or at least learn to filter myself.”

“Why are you a dick in the first place?” I shot back.

His throat bobbed, jaw working. “Because if you hang around dicks long enough, you turn into one. Not everyone was born with a silver spoon in their mouth.”

He was driving fast, one lean arm hanging on the top of the wheel. I glanced out the window, trying to absorb his words. I knew he’d arrived in Providence about ten years ago; I’d read his file, but I’d assumed his life hadn’t been vastly different before that.

Maybe he had a reason for those hard eyes.

I glanced back at him. He was tapping his other finger against the windowsill fast, in little motions. I wondered if it was a nervous movement. Otherwise, he seemed totally relaxed.

I pulled my eyes away. My brain was just finding excuses to look at him.

We were both quiet for the drive. It was warm out, and the air smelled faintly of flowers. Summer in Providence was my favorite time of year. Despite the booming tourism industry, it was peaceful in our neighborhood. The trees hung heavy over the road, dappling the car with sunlight as we passed below.

I sighed involuntarily. He glanced over, his hand flexing on his thigh.

“Alright there?” he said.

I shrugged. “Fine. Just don’t want to go back to work.”

“Me either.” He nodded. “Don’t forget about our meeting later this week.”

I nodded as he pulled up the front drive and parked by the koi pond. He put the car in park and shifted to face me. He cocked his knee, making my eyes flick down before I had a chance to jerk them back up, taking in the faint rise under the front of his pants. Or maybe it was just a crease.

Thank God he was looking away.

“I know,” I said. “I don’t forget meetings.”

Caden yawned, stepping out of the car. He stretched, and I saw a flash of a gun holster on his belt, hidden beneath his shirt. I pushed open my door and got to my wobbly feet.

“Is your father home?” he asked.

I shook my head. For some reason, I felt a crackle of tension, like a bit of static electricity. There was a long silence. My nails dug into my purse. Why was it so awkward to face him?

Was it because of what we’d done? Because I was going to keep pretending like I did that all the time and it meant nothing.

“I wasn’t going to ask you in,” I said.

He cocked his head. “I wasn’t going to come in.”

“I’ll call you an Uber.”

His heavy eyes scanned the lawn, glancing up at the sky. “I’ll walk. I walked here the other night when you threw me out on my ass so your father wouldn’t find out what a bad girl you are.”

His words curled, taunting me. My temper flared, emboldened by the alcohol.

“Do you have a problem with me?” I snapped.

He shrugged, lids heavy. “Maybe. What about it?”

“Okay, what’s your problem?”

“I don’t want you on this mission with me,” he said flatly.

“I don’t want you here either.”

Our voices were loud, echoing in the orchard. The tension buzzed over the top of the car, but this time, it wasn’t sexual. Or at least, not on my end. I was pissed at how mean he was—I hadn’t done anything to him.

Other than let him go down on me without revealing my identity.

Not one of my finer moments.

I swallowed guiltily. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have done that. I took a deep breath and tried to steady my swirling head. The facts were simple. Neither of us wanted the other there, but we had no choice. Our success hinged on working well with each other, and we both wanted this mission to succeed.

“That’s not your fault,” I said.

“What?”

“That you got assigned to work with me,” I said. “And it’s not my fault I have to work with you either.”

He cocked his head, and I thought his eyes softened.

“Alright,” he said finally. “Let’s just get through this.”

He circled the car, coming towards me. In my tipsy brain, I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but he was getting closer. The warmth of his body spilled over me, and I backed up against the car.

Then, he reached out and dropped the keys in my purse.

I sighed, my shoulders falling.

“What?” he said.

I shook my head, mouth dry. My eyes dragged down over his shirt, getting a guilty look at the way it hugged his abs, showing a trace of the V disappearing below his belt. I swallowed and forced them back to his face. He was watching me quietly, his expression unreadable past those heavy lids. They were a shield between him and the world.

“So we’re not in competition?” I said.

“Oh, no, I’m going to walk all over you when it comes to getting this funding. Eat my dust, butterfly.”

“Okay. Goodbye,” I said primly. I wasn’t letting him get a rise out of me again.

“See you later,” he said, not moving.

The wine made me a lot bolder than usual, so I darted around him, only pausing at the bottom of the stairs to turn around. He was watching me, squinting under the afternoon sun.

“I’m not sleeping with you,” I said. “Now or ever.”

The corner of his mouth turned up.

“Yeah, okay.”

My teeth gritted and anger flared, but he was already walking up the drive. I stood on the porch and watched him until he turned the corner and disappeared past the gate.