Crossing the Line Read online

  Caite stood alone, looking as disgusted as he felt. She said his name, but he held up a hand to keep her from saying anything else. He pulled on his clothes, not taking the time to be neat or tidy with it, just desperate not to be naked any longer.

  One cuff still dangled from his wrist, keeping him from putting his shirt on. He tore it free and tossed it onto the table. Caite stared at it. Slowly, slowly, she bent to pick up the blindfold he’d thrown to the floor.

  “Jamison,” she said. “They’re gone. Don’t do this.”

  Everything he’d given her, everything he’d been willing to give, rose inside him like vomit. He shook his head. “This isn’t me. This isn’t who I am.”

  He was ashamed to see tears sliding down her face, but even when she reached for him, he couldn’t let her touch him. He stepped back, out of reach. At this rejection, Caite let her hands fall to her sides.

  “We don’t have to,” she whispered. “If you don’t want to do that, it’s fine, it’s all right—”

  “But it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he shouted, voice hoarse and raw as though he’d been screaming for hours. “It’s what gets you off, isn’t it?”

  “It’s what gets you off, too,” Caite cried, then, softer, “and it’s not something shameful. Do you feel ashamed?”

  He said nothing, but he didn’t have to. She read it all over him. Caite trembled, biting her lower lip, then closing her eyes as more tears spilled down her face.

  “Oh,” she said in a small wounded voice. “Well, then.”

  And after that, nothing more had to be said.

  Chapter Nine

  “Three weeks.” Elise groaned. “Three immortally long, boring weeks until they’ll even consider inducing me. If I have to watch another daytime TV show I’m going to explode with boredom. Though I was thinking about that, Caite, taking on some of those clients. Which, by the way, how’s it going with the Treasure House people?”

  Caite’s attention had been snagged by the sight of Jamison heading down the hall to his office and passing her door, but now she returned her focus to the computer screen. “Oh...really well. We’ve managed to get their visibility rating up in the past few weeks. There’s a big event scheduled for tonight. I’ll be covering that.”

  “Is Jamison going with you?”

  Caite paused. Jamison hadn’t said more than a few words to her since the afternoon in the conference room. Almost a month ago. He’d spoken of business when necessary, but any other attempts at getting him to talk to her about what had happened were met with stony silence. They were back to where they’d been in the beginning. He hated her, she thought, for crossing the line.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Elise sighed. She looked better than she had the last time Caite had seen her in the office, but her pregnancy was clearly taking its toll. “How’s he doing, by the way?”

  Caite didn’t answer right away, not sure what her other boss was getting at. “Um, fine?”

  “I mean, he’s letting you do what you have to do, isn’t he? He’s not being too overbearing?”

  A vision of Jamison on his knees, hands behind him, prick proud and ready for her, dried Caite’s throat so much she couldn’t answer right away. Elise didn’t seem to notice. She shook her head.

  “If he is, I can talk to him about it. I have every confidence that you’re completely competent, Caite. Or else I wouldn’t have hired you.” Elise paused to take another deep breath. “God, I never thought I’d miss the days of going to the gym. I feel like such a slug.”

  “Not much longer now,” Caite answered. “Before you know it, you’ll have a little bouncing bundle of joy to keep you so busy you’ll be wishing you could stay in bed.”

  Elise smiled. “Yes. I can’t wait. This event tonight, it’s not the usual Treasure House scene. How’d you score it?”

  “Tommy is a big supporter of the charity that’s sponsoring the dinner dance. I get the feeling that the other two couldn’t give a rat’s ass about it, but they’re contractually obligated to all go to the same things. He twisted Pax’s arm, and of course, wherever Pax goes, Nellie follows. They got matching tattoos last week. Got a surprising amount of negative commentary on it, too.” Caite paused, leaning back in her chair so she could casually strain for a glimpse of Jamison’s office door. She looked back at her computer to find Elise giving her a quizzical look. “Anyway, this event’s a great way to gain some positive spin on the three of them as well as the show. Tommy’s donating a huge portion of his Treasure House prize to the foundation.”

  “If they win it. Well, it will definitely be good publicity and should lead to some other good opportunities, so long as they behave themselves.” Elise yawned. “But I guess that’s why you’ll be there, in case they don’t.”

  “Damage control,” Caite murmured. “That’s my job. Fixing things when they’ve gone bad.”

  The question was, she thought as she and Elise disconnected their call, would she be able to fix what had gone wrong with her and Jamison?

  * * *

  In a room filled with the light of hundreds of candles, Caite Fox looked luminous. It was the only way to describe her. And Jamison hated it, because he couldn’t stop trying to find her with his gaze, no matter where she went in the room.

  Three weeks. Three heinously long, tense weeks, since the nightmare of being found in a compromising position had sent him over the edge. He’d seen her every workday after that, of course, but they’d done little more than send each other memos or have Bobby relay messages. The atmosphere in the office had been...tense. At least for him. Caite hadn’t seemed to be bothered much by it at all.

  He’d been unable to stop thinking about her. Being underneath her. Pleasing her. For the first time since puberty, when he’d started fantasizing about sex, Jamison’s dreams hadn’t focused on what he was going to do to a woman but rather what he could do for her. And nothing seemed to ease the ache.

  “Hey, man.” Tommy clapped a hand on Jamison’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming out.”

  The kid had cleaned up pretty good, Jamison noted. Suit, no tie, but his long hair had been tied at the nape of his neck with a cord. A faint pattern of bruising on his cheek made him a little less pretty. Jamison still wanted to match it on the other side with his fists.

  Instead, he forced a grin. If the little prick intended on making something out of what he’d seen, he’d have Jamison to answer to, client or not. “Part of my job.”

  Tommy laughed but as if they were buddies, not as if he were making fun. “I hope we can count on a donation from you anyway. At least bid on something from the silent auction.”

  Jamison turned to look him in the eyes. “This foundation, it means a lot to you.”

  “I lost my kid sister to Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. There isn’t much known about prion disease. If I can help out, even a little...” Tommy shrugged. The two men stood in awkward silence for a minute before Tommy spoke again. “She’s a prize, you know. Caite. She’s the kind of woman I would do anything for. Am I right?”

  Jamison clenched his fists, though halfheartedly. The kid was right, after all. “I bet you would.”

  “Damned right I would. And be glad of the chance to make her my queen...but you know something about that, don’t you?” Tommy took a step back as though expecting Jamison to lunge at him. Not as if he were scared by the thought. More as if he was being cautious.

  “Look. I don’t give a flying fuck what you think,” Jamison began, but cut himself off when Tommy held up a hand.

  “I get it, man. I get it more than you could possibly imagine. And I envy you. The way she looked at you... I won’t lie. I’d give up anything to be able to give it up to her.”

  Jamison was silent.

  Tommy lifted his chin toward the crowd in front of them. “You thi