Tangled Up Read online

  “So you think that you’re going to get lucky in the office? Is that it? A little afternoon delight?”

  “A guy can dream, can’t he?” He flashed her a charming grin that threatened to melt her panties, though she didn’t so much as bat an eyelash to show him how hot she thought it was.

  “Did you finish the list I gave you this morning?”

  And just like that, the inferno that constantly simmered between them flared to life.

  “I did. Come with me.”

  His grin, wide and bright, made Caite melt, mostly because she’d seen him smile at a lot of people, and he didn’t look at anyone the way he looked at her. No man had ever looked at her the way Jamison did. It didn’t only set her on fire. It made her feel adored. Cherished.

  Loved.

  Which scared her, but she wasn’t going to think about that now. Instead she followed him into the conference room, where she let out a small gasp at what lay in front of her. She turned to him, stunned.

  “You…did this? All of this?”

  His smile was her answer. Caite took an unsteady step toward him, not sure if she meant to laugh or cry. Surprise me, she’d told him. He’d done more than that. He’d blown her mind.

  Jamison had set the table with a vase of crimson roses in a crystal vase tied with a thick purple ribbon. The flowers were standard—any woman might love red roses—but the ribbon…that was all Caite. Two plates of thin china, matching the ones she had in her apartment, held thick slices of cherry cheesecake. Her favorite. Two wine glasses filled with red wine. A platter of savory crackers and sliced cheeses, along with small bowls of Greek olives.

  “Cheesecake for dinner?”

  “Dessert first, because you’re the sort of woman who breaks the rules,” he said. “And just a little appetizer. Dinner reservations are for later, at Serrano. And tickets to see that guy you like. The one who plays the guitar.”

  Caite couldn’t move. She tried to breathe and found the best she could manage was tiny sips of air. She was going to burst into tears, and she didn’t want to do that. She swallowed her emotions around the lump in her throat and opened her mouth to thank him.

  “There’s more,” he said before she could say a word. “Open the box.”

  She’d missed the sleek black box, about the size of a cereal box, though made of much heavier cardboard. Another purple ribbon was tied around it in a crisp bow. Caite went around the table to look at it.

  Jamison followed her. “Open it.”

  All at once, she didn’t want to. Her hands shook so much she had to fist them, hiding them in the folds of her full skirt. She couldn’t look at him. He’d done so much, all of it proving he knew her exactly. Whatever was in this box would be more of the same or a disappointment, and Caite was suddenly terrified of being disappointed.

  “Jamison,” she said, but couldn’t make herself continue.

  He fit himself along her body from behind, his hands slipping around her to press flat on her belly and pull her against him. His kiss found the smooth curve of her neck and shoulder. He didn’t nuzzle or try to feel her up. He held her. Offering her his warmth. His support, though he couldn’t possibly know her reason for hesitating. Could he?

  “I’m scared to open it,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be scared.”

  “What if I don’t like it, whatever it is?”

  His gaze, dark with desire, softened. “You wanted me to surprise you. To show I know you. I’m doing the best I can.”

  “And so far, everything…is perfect.” She twisted in his arms to kiss him.

  “Shouldn’t I be the one who’s worried if you won’t like it?” His tone was light, but she saw a hint of seriousness in his eyes. “What if I failed?”

  “What if you didn’t?” Caite asked. “What if you got it just right, because you know me so well?”

  Something was changing between them, right there in that moment. Caite could feel it. So could Jamison—she saw it in his eyes and heard it in the catch of his breath. She felt it in his mouth on hers, firm yet somehow searching.

  “Open the box, Caite. Please.”

  So she did.

  * * *

  Jamison didn’t imagine her sigh of relief when she undid the ribbon and lifted the box’s lid to reveal a matching bra, panty and garter belt set of black lace and emerald-green satin. Caite lifted the scanty underthings from their nest of crumpled tissue paper, along with the pair of sheer nude stockings. The salesgirl had assured him the nude was better than black—Caite was almost certain to already have several sets of black stockings but might need a neutral pair. It had been a bunch of technical jargon to Jamison, but the girl in the shop had convinced him.

  “You know my size,” Caite said.

  “That was the easy part.” Jamison watched her stroke the material. She was smiling. That was a good sign. “But there’s more.”

  She looked up at him, then set aside the lingerie carefully on the table. She pulled aside the tissue paper. His stomach lurched, waiting for her to discover what else he’d bought. Two items, chosen even more carefully than the stockings.

  Caite pulled out the first and gave a delighted laugh as she held up the red satin and let it run through her fingers. At first she held it to her throat, but before he had to explain what the scarf’s true purpose was, she figured it out. Snapping it taut between her fists, she held it up.

  “A blindfold.” She sounded pleased and, yes, surprised. Something like tears glinted in her eyes for a second before she blinked them away. “How naughty.”

  “There’s one more thing.”

  Brushing the satin against her lips for a second before putting it aside, Caite nodded. This time, when she found the final item, she gasped. Mouth open, she stared at him for a few seconds before getting herself under control. She pulled her hand out of the box and held up what she’d brought out with her.

  Jamison had never been in a sex-toy shop before this morning, when he went in to fulfill Caite’s list. The rows of dildos and vibrators hadn’t turned his head. Nor had the selection of fetish wear, most of it cheaply made. She was worth more than a catsuit that would split at the seams the first time she wore it. He’d about given up, but then in the back room, a separate section of the store run by a different vendor who was renting space, he’d found what he was looking for. Handcrafted of smooth, supple leather. No buckles, but instead thin silk cord wound through punched holes. The cuffs were unique and beautiful, just like Caite.

  But they weren’t for her.

  “Jamison,” she said in a low voice, letting her fingers toy with the cords that closed the cuffs. “Oh, my God. Oh.”

  Sewn into the leather’s edge were genuine pearls, three on each cuff. He could’ve special-ordered them with other jewels, diamonds, rubies. Embroidered with his name or hers. But the moment Jamison had seen the pearl-edged cuffs, he’d known they were the ones.

  Caite brought them to her face and sniffed, eyes closed. “I love the smell of leather. I love pearls.”

  “I know.”

  “These are gorgeous,” she murmured, holding the cuffs to her cheek for a second or so before looking at him. “And unexpected. I mean, completely not at all what I was expecting. You really surprised me.”

  When Jamison was closing in on the end of a deal, his world shifted. Vision narrowed. When he had the other guy in his sights, everything going the way he wanted it to, the guarantee of success became so close he could taste it, thick like honey but sweeter. In those moments, winning, he felt as though he were in a different universe. He felt that way now, too, though instead of sweetness, an anxious bitterness teased his tongue.

  “You’d like to use them on me,” he said aloud. He didn’t stutter or stumble; the words came out of him with as much confidence as anything he’d ever said while sealing a negotiation. On the inside, though, everything had gone dark and swimming. Uncertain. “You’d like to bind my hands, Caite. You’d like to get me on my knees with my ha