Sweet the Sin (21 page)

“You know she was meeting with a client this afternoon. She asked Pete to wait in the lobby instead of coming up to the apartment with her.”

“What?” Caleb interrupted. “There are multiple areas of access to apartment buildings. You can’t be sure she would be safe if he just waited in the lobby.”

“I understand that, sir. Pete didn’t want to wait there, but she insisted. And our understanding was that her protection wasn’t forced.”

Caleb let out a breath, knowing everything Tim said was correct. They couldn’t force protection on Kelly if she refused it—no matter how much Caleb might want to.

“Okay,” he said. “So what did Pete do?”

“Since he was concerned about leaving her up there unprotected, he managed to get access to the building’s security cameras while he waited. There aren’t very many—just in the lobby and the public areas. Including a workout room on the eighth floor.”

Caleb drew his eyebrows together. “Okay. So what’s the point?”

“The point is that, after she met with the client, Miss Watson went to the eighth floor and met with someone in the workout room. Tim copied the video feed. I’m sending it to you now.”

Caleb froze, trying to work out the significance of this information. “Who did she meet with?”

“We don’t know. We’re trying to identify him, but we have nothing to go on, so I don’t think we’ll be able to figure it out. They seemed—close.”

And it was then that Caleb’s heart stopped jumping and started to sink. “Close?”

“Sex didn’t happen. But close. Yes.” Tim was obviously reluctant to give that particular answer.

Caleb cleared his throat. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll look at the video and tell you how to proceed.”

He was holding his breath when he pulled up the message Tim had just sent him, clicking open the video feed.

The video quality was poor and it was black and white, but Kelly was clearly visible coming into the room with a tall, dark-haired man.

The man was facing the camera more than Kelly was, and he was clearly into her. Caleb could tell even from the slightly fuzzy image. They talked, standing very close, and the man got closer and closer as the conversation progressed.

Caleb recognized the man immediately. The same man from the dressing room. The one Kelly had insisted was a stranger who was just randomly coming onto her.

As he watched, Kelly put her hand on the guy’s arm at one point, and later he had her pressed up to the wall, his body against hers.

Caleb felt a shuddering of possessive rage as he watched this other man with his body all over Kelly.
His
Kelly. And something painful ripped through his chest as he saw her arms go up around his neck.

He dreaded the idea of seeing them kiss, but he couldn’t look away.

He waited, a lump lodged hard in his throat, for something worse to happen, but they left before anything did, the man’s arm around Kelly’s waist.

He stared at the final image for a long time, trying to think, trying to use his mind instead of his instinct, which was to howl in outrage and start knocking things over.

There weren’t many possibilities for why Kelly had met up with this man. She’d snuck away to meet with him twice, so they were obviously in some sort of relationship.

She had lied to him—right to his face, so convincingly that he’d completely fallen for it. Whether or not she was cheating on him with this guy, she was keeping secrets from him.

Either way, Kelly wasn’t being faithful.

He’d just turned down a luscious woman who had offered him easy sex for the taking. He hadn’t even wanted her.

When Kelly was here betraying him.

He was washed with wave after wave of cold anger and pain, and he sat stewing in it for the rest of the drive home.

He was in a bad state when the car pulled through the gates, and then up in front of his house. Something big and intense and broken kept swelling up inside him—something that felt like a dangerous, trapped, wounded animal—and he had to clench his fists to keep his hands from shaking as he climbed out of the backseat.

Nothing really had changed. He was still Caleb Marshall, a man who had always ensured he remained perfectly in control of his world.

He did what he wanted. Took what he wanted. Didn’t let anyone stand in his way.

He never let himself do anything, want anything, be anything that would cause him to be helpless again.

One young woman wouldn’t have changed him. Wouldn’t have cracked the hard contours of his life.

He wouldn’t let that happen.

When he entered the house, Breah started to greet him pleasantly, but she shrank back when she got a look at his face.

“Where’s Kelly?” he asked in a low voice, trying to level out his tone.

“She’s upstairs—showering and changing clothes, I think.” Breah’s face twisted. “Is everything okay, sir?”

Caleb didn’t answer, although he’d always made a point of treating Breah with courtesy. He
couldn’t
answer. He just strode down the hall and into the west wing of the house, where Kelly’s guest suite was located.

He had no idea what he was going to say when he saw her.

When he got to her door, he stood outside for a few seconds, taking a couple of breaths and trying to get himself under control. If he lost his restraint, then Kelly would have the advantage, and he couldn’t give her that.

He swung the door open without knocking. This was his house. He could enter any room he wanted without waiting for an invitation.

Kelly had been buckling one of her high-heeled sandals. She was dressed prettily in a long skirt and sleeveless top that clung to her curves. Her long hair was loose, falling in lustrous waves over her arms and shoulders.

She must have dressed up for him.

She looked gorgeous. Like a pale, delicate blossom in the morning dew. Lush. Sensual. Innocent.

Innocent.

But she wasn’t. She’d never been.

She gave a little squeal of surprise at his sudden entrance, but her face changed almost immediately, smiling as she said, “Where are your manners, barging in like that? What if I was naked in here?”

Her eyes took on a familiar heated gleam as she spoke the last question in a lilting voice. He suddenly knew what she expected him to do.

Respond to the invitation. Get hot because she was hot. She’d done it the whole time. Pressed his buttons perfectly. Say one thing—and he would act this way. Say something else—and he’d do that instead.

Like Pavlov’s fucking dog.

And he was letting her. Letting her play him like a puppet.

No more.

“How was your meeting with your client?” he asked, pleased when his tone sounded calm and natural.

Her brows drew together, as if she sensed something was off, but she replied easily enough. “It was good. She wants me to paint the dog lounging on this velvet dog bed. You should see the fancy fringe on that thing.” She gave him another smile—this one sweet and amused.

She was expecting his mood to shift based on her expression and tone. She wanted him to laugh, come over to her, put his arm around her, lean down into a soft kiss. Yesterday, he would have done just that.

She was waiting even now for him to do it, and her smile broke in obvious confusion when he didn’t.

“What’s wrong, Caleb?” she asked, coming over to him instead. “You look all stressed about something.” She leaned against him a little, and stroked his chest softly. “Did something happen?”

Something had happened. Kelly Watson had happened. And his life would never be the same.

“Did you do anything after you met with your client?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse now.

He wanted to see if she would lie.

“No,” she said, slightly haltingly. “What’s the matter with you?”

So she lied after all. Right to his face. Convincingly too. She looked nothing but concerned and bewildered.

She was a master, and he’d fallen for her like a boy.

He took a quick step backward, pulling himself away from her hands, since despite everything, he relished the feel of them. It was time to go on the offensive, anyway.

“Did you fuck him?” he bit out.

She jerked visibly, the pretty bewilderment transforming to real confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Did you fuck him?”

She frowned, looking hurt and a little offended now. “You know I fucked him, Caleb. That’s how I got into this mess to begin with. Did you think I’d somehow gotten involved with this guy but didn’t actually—”

“No,” he cut in, realizing what she’d thought. It was such a natural and innocent misunderstanding that it broke into his angry momentum temporarily. “I wasn’t talking about before. I was talking about today. When you had the little meet-up with the guy in the workout room, after you left your client. The same one you met in the dressing room and pretended not to know. Did you fuck him?”

It took a moment for her to process the question, and he saw the whole succession of emotions cross over her face. Confusion. Recognition. Understanding. Fear. Anger. Anger. Anger.

“Are you spying on me?” she demanded at last, her cheeks flushing as she took several steps backward, away from him.

“You know I have the bodyguard following you, for your own protection.”

“If you know about my meeting that guy today, then he’s doing more than protecting me. You’re spying on me! Having your lackeys observe my every move and report back to you! How dare you do that to me?”

Caleb almost choked on his outrage, that she’d somehow managed to make him look like the bad guy in this when she was the one who’d just lied to him, who’d betrayed him. “You probably do think you’re that irresistible,” he said, stepping forward, his whole body tense with suppressed rage. “You think I’m so obsessed with you that I’ve turned into some sort of stalker over you? My man did his job—nothing more. And don’t think you can turn the topic away from the real issue. Which is the way you’ve been sneaking around behind my back, pretending to be into me when all this time you’re spreading your legs for some—”

His words cut off when she reached up to slap him across the face. He caught her wrist before she could, and he held it when she tried to pull free.

“Don’t act like an outraged virgin,” he snapped, grabbing her other wrist too when she used it to push him away. “You’re the one who has been using me.”

“Fuck you, Caleb,” she choked, giving up her attempt to free herself. “I didn’t fuck that guy. I’ve never fucked that guy. But even if I had, you have no right to act this way. There’s never been any commitment between us.”

He couldn’t believe she was trying to justify what she’d done, once again making him look in the wrong—like he was some obsessive, jealous bully. “Don’t try that argument on me. We’ve never spoken of a commitment, but we both know we’re in something deep here. I haven’t fucked another woman since I met you. I haven’t even wanted another woman since I met you.”

He shouldn’t be admitting that. It exposed too much about his heart. But he couldn’t seem to help it. His lifetime of control had snapped, and it drove something else home to him. “I’ve broken myself for you,” he continued hoarsely, still holding her in front of him by both of her wrists. She was so beautiful and vulnerable and everything he wanted that his body began to respond to her, despite everything. He felt his groin tighten and his skin heat up. “I’ve sacrificed the man I was before. For
you
. Because of
you
. I’ve lost him because of you. And all this time you’ve been screwing—”

She let out a wordless scream that sounded like absolute frustration, desperation. She yanked her arms out of his grip and pushed him backward, away from her. “You think
you’ve
broken yourself? You have no idea what broken feels like! You think you sacrificed something, because you’ve decided it might be nice to fuck one woman for longer than a night? Because you’re bothered when you think she hasn’t fallen in a besotted heap at your feet? You know
nothing
. I’ve sacrificed everything. I’ve lost everything. There is nothing of me left worth having. And it’s all because of
you
.”

Something about her words broke through the furious haze in his mind. Her anger and outrage was genuine. He could feel the truth of it in his bones. She wasn’t lying or playing a part now. She felt more real than he’d ever felt her.

It was like she hated him.

If her meeting with the guy hadn’t been as bad as it looked, then she might have a reason to be angry with him now. But hate him? Why would she hate him?

The puzzle broke through his irrational fury and calmed him down just enough to begin to think.

There was more going on here than he knew.

She had turned her back to him, obviously trying to get control of herself. She wouldn’t want to cry in front of him, even in anger. She would think it made her weak.

But Caleb couldn’t stand to be weak either. “Damn it, Kelly. Tell me the truth,” he demanded, using his words like a weapon.

She jerked and whirled around, obviously wanting to strike him again but holding herself back. “You’ve done nothing to deserve the truth from me.”

He reached out and took her by the upper arms, holding her so she couldn’t turn away from him again. It felt like the whole world was pulsing behind his eyes, in his ears, in his chest, and in his cock. “I don’t care whether I deserve it or not. Tell me the truth anyway. Why do you hate me so much?”

“Because—because—”

She was almost strangling on the words, tears streaming from her eyes, and her whole body shaking helplessly, with some sort of combination of anger, outrage, and grief. “Because you made me—fall for you!” She choked out the last words like they were horrifying.

For a moment, the truth of her words washed over him, answering, soothing the trapped, wounded animal inside him.

But they didn’t seem to answer or soothe anything in Kelly. She was just as broken as before as she continued, “You made me want you to be—want you to be—”

“To be what?” he demanded.

This was the final straw—the cusp of the whole world changing. He knew it somehow. What would happen now would change him, would change everything.