James leapt on the phone to stop it screeching. Damn thing. He should have pulled the plug from the wall. ‘Yeah?’ he whispered, glancing at Caitlin’s motionless form.
‘You’re still in town?’
James winced as he heard the reproach in his father’s voice. Hell. Here he was having the time of his life in a no-holds-barred sexual marathon with a virtual stranger instead of going to see his family. How did he explain that? ‘Ah...things got delayed.’
‘Delayed for how long?’
‘I’m not sure. I could be called away any day.’
Caitlin’s head lifted, her blue eyes sardonically skewered him. He put a finger over her lips.
‘Come home, James,’ his father growled. ‘You should see your mother.’
James swallowed. He hated the disappointment he heard. But he deserved to feel bad. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
Caitlin didn’t take her eyes off him the entire rest of the stilted phone call.
‘I don’t want to go,’ he said belligerently the second he replaced the receiver on the cradle.
‘Why not?’
‘You know, I haven’t asked you for the exact specifics of what happened in London,’ he snapped. ‘We’re allowed some privacy.’
Caitlin immediately withdrew, slipping out of the bed. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly, making a dash for the bathroom. ‘I guess I was concerned. I apologise for overstepping the boundaries.’ But only a pace away the anger hit and she wheeled back to face him. ‘But I’ll just say this, James. I’d love to have a family who cared about me the way yours obviously cares about you,’ she spat. ‘Be grateful for what you have.’
He stared at her, a stunned look on his face—followed by anger, followed by...what?
She didn’t know, but rigidly she stared him out. He looked so stunned—did no one pull him up on his bad behaviour?
He sighed and closed his eyes. A groaning growl emerged from somewhere deep in his gut. ‘You’re right.’
She was.
‘I know you’re right.’ He kept his eyes shut. ‘I’m sorry I snapped. I was feeling guilty. I’ll go see them.’
Would that make him feel less guilty? About what? ‘Great.’
He peeled one eye open and looked at her. ‘You have to come with me.’
‘What?’
The other eye snapped open and he sat up, the vital energy sizzling from him again. ‘It’s the only way I’ll go. You promised me unlimited sex for the time I was back in the country.’
‘Back in New York,’ she clarified.
‘This is still New York,’ he said carelessly. ‘The cottage is in the Hamptons. You don’t come with me, I don’t go.’
She stared at him as if he was loco. Which clearly he was. ‘I can’t just turn up to your family home uninvited.’
‘I’m inviting you.’ He flopped back onto the pillows.
No, that still wasn’t okay. ‘Your family will get the wrong idea.’
He looked amused at her concern. ‘What—would it be so dreadful if they thought you were my girlfriend?’
She clamped her mouth shut for a second. Then breathed. ‘It wouldn’t be honest.’
‘We’re having sex round the clock. It’s not entirely dishonest.’
‘We’re having sexual relations, not a relationship,’ she said crisply, ignoring his laughter. ‘And it’s precisely because of that, that it’s not a good idea if I come.’
‘Your coming is a very good idea. There’s nothing I like more.’
‘Juvenile innuendo aside,’ she said loftily, ‘I don’t believe this is sensible.’
‘You didn’t want sensible. You wanted fun. And I can promise you fun.’
She was diverted by that tone in his voice. The thread of promise. ‘Wicked fun?’
‘So wicked you might not be able to walk.’
She stared at him. The extent to which he turned her on with just a look and a laughing tease was appalling. She didn’t want to have any nights without him. Not when she was having so few as it was. She didn’t want to miss a minute. And besides all that, she was curious. She wanted to know more about him. Wanted to understand why it was he didn’t want to go there without dragging a distraction with him.
He smiled. He knew he’d won. ‘I’ll tell them you’re a friend of George’s staying here—which is true—and that you’re coming to see some more of the US of A. I’ll even get you a separate bedroom. They won’t suspect a thing. I’m very good at sneaking around the house.’
‘I’ll bet,’ she said acidly.
He laughed. ‘We’ll go for a night. Maybe two.’
‘How are we going to get there?’ She frowned, all the practical problems hitting her at once.
He sat up and reached out for her wrist, drawing her back to sit on the bed beside him. ‘Well, I was planning on taking a car. If you can’t cope with coming in a car I’ve paid for, you could try to hitch a ride. Or you could go by train and we’ll pretend we don’t know each other at all...’
She elbowed his ribs. ‘Smarty pants.’
‘If you want to be with me, you’re going to have to put up with my making the travel arrangements. I’m very good at travel arrangements. It’s a family thing.’
‘I still don’t—’
‘Look,’ he growled and pulled her closer, his hands shaping her curves. ‘I want you with me. That’s the only way I’ll go. If you want to see me make happy family time with my parents then you just have to suck it up. I’m not paying you for sex. You are under no obligation to do whatever with me even if I pay for your travel arrangements.’
She chuckled and clutched at his shoulders as he rolled above her. ‘You really can’t forgive yourself for that mistake, can you?’
* * *
Three—lazy tourist fun but PDA banned—days later Caitlin put on the seat belt in the front passenger seat of a sleek Porsche convertible. The drive wasn’t nearly long enough for her to master her stupid nerves. And why on earth hadn’t he visited them sooner when it was less than a couple of hours’ drive?
‘I thought you said this was a cottage?’ Caitlin wheezed as they turned the corner and the house came into view. It wasn’t like the kind of cottages they had back in England. This was a three-storeyed wooden mansion with separate accommodation wings, a car-turning bay, expansive lawns and formal gardens. And that was only what she could see from the roadside entrance. Heaven only knew what incredible features she’d find round the back—beach side.
‘I shouldn’t be with you.’ She twisted towards him as he slowed down on the gravel drive. ‘This is your family...your mother.’ And a place that looked as if it would be featured in an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. This was so out of her league.
‘Don’t worry about it. She doesn’t bite. I, on the other hand, just might have to.’
‘Stop it.’ She elbowed his upper arm.
‘Only if you stop worrying. As I said, I’m telling them you’re George’s special friend.’