Hero(8)

I barely took anything in, however, because my gaze zeroed in on Caine.

He looked equal parts enraged and baffled by my presence as he shot to his feet from behind a huge antique desk.

There was another dip in my belly, this one a little lower than the last. Although I’d already witnessed it, the power of his presence continued to surprise me.

“Henry, what the f*ck?”

Lexington’s eyebrows rose considerably at Caine’s reaction to my appearance. He looked down at me and smirked. “Seriously, who are you?”

“Get out.”

Both our heads whipped back in Caine’s direction.

Of course he was talking to me.

“No.” I took a step toward him despite the menace emanating from him. “We need to talk.” The muscle in his jaw flexed at my refusal to be cowed.

Inwardly I was pretty cowed, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I’m busy.”

“Mr. Lexington here was kind enough to offer me five minutes of his lunch appointment with you.”

Caine shot him a furious look. “Did he?”

Henry smiled. “I’m a gentleman that way.”

“Henry, get out,” Caine said, the words quiet but forceful.

“Well, I made—”

“Now.”

Clearly Henry knew something I didn’t, because unlike me he didn’t appear at all afraid of Caine. “Of course.” He chuckled and then winked at me in a way that worked for him even more than the debonair smile. “Good luck.”

I waited until the door had closed behind Henry before I took in a deep breath and braced myself to interact with Caine. I noted his eyes flickered up quickly from my legs to my face.

I shivered under that Prince of Darkness stare of his.

“In two seconds you’ll be following him out of the door.”

You can do this. Make him hear you, Lex. “Throw me out and I will come back quicker than a boomerang.”

“I daresay a boomerang won’t fare too well against a locked door, Miss Holland.”

“Lock the door and I’ll find other, more creative ways to torment you. I have nothing left to lose at this point.”

Caine heaved an irritated sigh. “You have one minute. Use it wisely.”

God, he really was an arrogant SOB. I pushed down my irritation, reminding myself who he was and what he’d been through. “Two things. First, I lost my job.”

His response to that was to shrug and relax against his desk. He crossed his arms over his chest and then one ankle over the other and hit me with an insouciant “So?”

“So … it’s because of what happened at the shoot.”

“Then I suggest you act more professionally in the future. Now I have lunch to attend to …” He gestured to the door.

“Look.” I held up my hands in something akin to surrender. “I apologize. That’s the second thing. I apologize sincerely—”

“Fucking say it and I will throw you out,” he warned.

“For ambushing you,” I hurried to finish.

He relaxed only somewhat.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I had no idea we were doing a photo shoot with you. I showed up on-set and you were there and I’m in a weird place and I acted emotionally and it was really unfair to you.”

Caine merely blinked at my rambling.

“So I’m sorry,” I finished.

“Fine.” He stood up, his eyes moving over my shoulder, not concealing his impatience.

I took that “fine” as an acceptance of my apology and forged ahead again. “But the punishment doesn’t fit the crime.”

I was treated to another heavy sigh from him. “Tell me again why I should care if the daughter of the man who gave my mother the cocaine that killed her no longer has a job.”

I flinched. “My father’s actions were not mine.”

“Same blood runs in your veins.”

Any hope I had of battling my irritation with his arrogance went flying out the window. “Oh? Cocaine addict, are you?”

I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth.

“Get out.” The words were said with barely leashed fury.

“Okay, okay,” I hurried to defuse that land mine. “That was a shitty thing to say. I’m really sorry. But you’re presuming to know who I am because of who my father is, and that’s shitty too.”