Hero(89)

I really needed some willpower.

I wondered if it was for sale on Charles Street.

“If someone sees us, they see us.” Caine sighed, obviously annoyed.

Clearly my anxiety had not gone unnoticed. “We’re playing a dangerous game here,” I argued.

“Really?” He stopped to peer down into the basement store window where ladies’ clothing was displayed. “I thought we were walking down a f*cking street.”

Oh, he was cursing. He was pissed.

“Caine—”

“That would look good on you.” He changed the subject, jerking his chin down toward the teal dress. It had a conservative cut, but the material was extremely clingy. Classy but sexy.

“However, it would not look good on my credit card statement.”

In answer, Caine slipped his hand into mine, causing me to look around quickly to see if anyone was watching. He didn’t seem to notice my wariness because he was too busy leading me down the stairs into the boutique.

“What are you doing?” I said.

“You’re trying the dress on.”

I frowned, confused by his actions. Was he just trying to ignore the argument that had been about to brew between us? “No, I’m not.”

The willowy saleswoman approached us with a gleam in her dark eyes as she took in the sight of Caine. A few weeks ago the modellike young thing with her sculpted cheekbones, perfect Afro, and silky coffee skin would have caused a sharp streak of possessiveness to bolt through me. Not now. Sure, I still felt a thrill go through me that I was the one who’d just rolled out of bed with him, but the jealousy that had come from a lack of reassurance was muted now. It was manageable. And I realized that Caine hadn’t gone at all caveman on me these last few weeks either.

Progress.

So when he pointed to the dress and said, “Size six,” I humored him.

Thirty seconds later I found myself stuffed into a tiny dressing room.

I spun the tag over on the dress and balked at the price.

Yeah, there was no way I was buying this freaking dress no matter how good it looked on me.

I huffed and yanked my tank top off.

“You look so familiar to me,” I heard the saleswoman say to Caine.

I practically rolled my eyes at the purr in her words.

Caine didn’t reply.

I smirked.

Certainty.

The word made me relax as I thought about it. I wouldn’t feel that certainty if I didn’t feel sure of Caine’s feelings for me. Although we hadn’t discussed changing the terms of our affair, there had also been no more mention of it coming to an end. We didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want it to end. Ever.

I froze middressing.

I was falling in love with him.

“Do you work around here?” the salesgirl tried again.

“Close by,” he said, and then the privacy curtain moved a little, jolting me out of my breathless realization. “Are you done?”

I sought to sound normal and not at all overwhelmed by a life-altering recognition of my feelings. I cleared my throat. “Unless the dress is supposed to be worn with my boobs hanging out, no.”

“Smart-ass,” he muttered, but I could hear his amusement in the word. Just as I tugged the dress up, Caine slipped inside the dressing room, taking up way too much space.

I stared up into his face, suddenly impatient for the right time to tell him how I felt.

I’d never been in love before. When was the right time to say it?

Caine was too busy checking me out in the dress to deduce that my thoughts had gotten mushy. “You look beautiful.”

I flushed with pleasure and smoothed my hands down the gorgeous material of the dress. “Thank you.”

He reached for me, coasting his own hands down my waist until they settled on my hips. He gave me a little tug until I was pressed up against him. “You’re getting this dress.”

I ran my hands up his arms and gently let him down regarding any fantasies he was creating about me in this dress. “No, I’m not. The price tag … it’s extortion.”

“Who said you’re buying?” He made a move toward the curtain, but I tightened my hold on him.

“Caine, no.” I shook my head adamantly. “You are not—”

He shrugged out of my grasp with an imperious rise of his right eyebrow and then disappeared out of the dressing room.

“Caine,” I hissed.