Bound to the Baron

by Gigi Thomas

  “Yaya,” Caden began, stepping forward and reaching out to her.

  She stepped back, pulling her arm from within his grasp. “Don’t. Touch me.”

  “Let me explain—”

  “Explain? What could you possibly have to explain to me Caden Lord, or no it’s actually Lord Caden isn’t it? Well, you’ve got a sense of humor at least.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “No, I understand completely. You were just sowing your royal oats, right?”

  “I...actually, I’m not quite sure what that means, but—”

  “Oh my gosh! I am such an idiot.” Kenya clasped her hands before her face as she let out a mirthless laugh. “You must’ve had the best time, laughing at me and telling your rich royal friends about the pathetic American that was dumb enough to believe all the bullshit lies you fed her.”

  “It wasn’t...I wasn’t...okay, I lied about who I was, but never about how I felt about you. You know how I—”

  “Yes, I know exactly how you felt about me, Your Lordship. I knew it when I woke up one morning and you were gone without a word. I knew it again the next day when I didn’t hear from you, the next week when you still hadn’t returned my calls or texts, the next month... the next year.”

  "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left like that. I thought—"

  "Don't apologize. I should’ve expected it."

  “No, you—”

  “It’s not a big deal. I mean, we were young. I moved on. A long time ago.”

  Kenya knew she had to stay strong. In control. That was the only way she was going to survive this. She had to be completely unaffected by him and by anything he said.

  “I didn’t want anything more from you, Caden. I don’t need anything from you now. We were just screwing, right?”

  “Just…just screwing? All right. Right. Well then,” he said, but there was a tremor in his voice, a shadow in his eyes that made Kenya pause. "I guess you have moved on. I mean you have a daughter, who is absolutely beautiful by the way.”

  “Thanks”

  “How old is she?"

  "Um... three." Kenya couldn't look him in the eyes.

  Okay, so Cadence will be four in less than a month, but technically Kenya was still telling the truth. And Caden didn’t want to know the truth anyway. This was best for everyone.

  For a few minutes, neither said a word.

  "So, you married now?" he asked.

  "No."

  "Oh, just a fling then? Just...screwing?"

  The resentful cut of his voice made Kenya almost lose it. Was this lying bastard seriously calling her a ho now?

  "Excuse me?" In one fluid motion, Kenya’s hand went to her hip, her head to the side, and her eyebrow rose. “What did you say?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “You know what,” Caden began, in a fiercely optimistic tone. “I’m happy for you. You’ve moved on...obviously. And we both should have by now, right? So, cheers!”

  He turned and left without looking back, and Kenya just stared behind him trying to recover from the encounter. Meanwhile, why the hell was he acting as if he was the injured party here?—she fumed.

  He was ridiculous!

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Loaded Lorry

  Kenya stood before Caden, in the white lingerie set he’d got her for Valentine’s Day. The contrast of the ivory lace against Kenya’s ebony skin was irresistible, and Caden’s eyes took in the view that he’d longed to behold all these years. Kenya’s shapely thighs, the seductive curve of her hips, and her round bum made Caden’s erection throb with desire. He pulled Kenya closer and brought her lips to his in a passionate kiss.

  “Yaya, I’m so sorry.”

  “I forgive you, Cay,” Kenya said with the sweetest understanding. She knew him so well that Caden knew Kenya could see through to his soul. “You did what you thought was best.”

  “I’ll never leave you again.” Caden was sitting on the sofa now; his clothes, gone.

  Kenya was straddling him, and Caden could feel a hand stroking his erection.

  “Do you promise?” Kenya asked.

  “I promise. I’ll do anything. Anything to get you back.”

  “Fuck me, Cay. Fuck me like no one else can.”

  Kenya no longer wore a bra and Caden reveled in her gorgeous breasts. Caden’s hands instinctively reached up to massage her globes, his tongue lightly flitting against her nipples. Kenya arched her back, her head falling backwards as her hips writhed against him.

  Her warm tightness around his hardness, Caden clung to her as Kenya rode him, his hips thrusting back and forth inside her. Her moans of pleasure filled his ears and the sound of her calling his name. The sensation of Kenya going up and down his throbbing shaft was getting faster and faster and... Caden’s body tightened and the energy of his pleasure, like a lit fuse, began rushing to his center.

  Kenya looked into his eyes and whispered, “I love you.”

  “Yaya!” Caden exploded as he sat up. Shuddering, his body collapsed back onto bed.

  Caden was confused, surprised to find himself alone in the dark bedroom. His bare chest heaved; his breathing was ragged; and his hand firmly gripped his erection. His body was covered in sweat, and the thick sticky proof of his orgasm dripped down his thigh. Dragging a hand through his short hair, damp from the beads of sweat on his skull, Caden cursed himself.

  Bollocks! What the fuck is wrong with him? He sees Kenya for a few minutes, and he’s having wet dreams like a damn fourteen-year-old! He got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom.

  The cold water running from his head to his toes was exactly what he needed right now, Caden thought, closing his eyes. He stood under the rain shower and turned on the side jets to bombard him as well. His knees were a bit weak, and Caden reached forward leaning his hands on the cool gray marble.

  This wasn’t the first time Caden had dreamt about Kenya—but bloody hell!—he thought, at the intensity of his reaction. His dreams of Kenya weren’t often about sex. They were usually past memories or alternate versions of events and times they shared. Sometimes, they consisted of him telling her the truth and telling her that everything was different now. More often the dreams were of the present, what could’ve happened if nothing had ever changed and they had stayed together after all. Usually they would be married, often with children. But that would always be just a dream for him, Caden knew that, and besides Kenya already had her own child.

  Caden smiled despite himself as he remembered little Cadence. She was a most precocious three-year-old, or four-year-old according to her hand count, Caden remembered with a chuckle. She was perfect: caramel skin, mischievous green eyes, and those dimples coupled with Kenya’s smile that made him almost melt. Caden stood before the shower mirror he used to shave as his own green eyes stared back at him.

  Maybe, he thought, if they’d been able to stay together, by now they would’ve had a daughter like her: his dimples, Kenya’s smile. His lip quirked at the thought, revealing the dimple on his cheek.

  No.

  Realization hit him like a loaded lorry. His blood suddenly ran cold, and Caden knew it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water. Green eyes... Dimples... Three?... Four?... Cadence.

  “But, that’s impossible.” He tried to shake the thought out of his mind, but he couldn’t rip himself away from his reflection.

  “Isn’t it?”

  ~

  Caden spent the rest of the night Googling Kenya, which yielded ample results if he wanted to learn how well she was doing in her company, the awards she received, or the recognition for being both the youngest African-American and the youngest female executive in her financial firm. He even learned that Kenya also spoke to single mothers advising them on the importance of finishing their education and not feeling guilty about pursuing their careers, since a successful career will help provide the life they want for their children.

  Cad
en was impressed. He felt inadequate, considering what little he had done in their years apart compared to Kenya. He knew that there were valid reasons for his delayed accomplishments. But, he’d spent many a night wondering if things had been different would he have done just that. Would he have spent the years fannying around without a care? It was probably the reason he threw himself into his foundation and his other nonprofit work.

  He wanted to make a difference. He wanted to make an impact. When his life was over, Caden wanted to make sure that he didn’t just waste it, that he made the world somehow better when he left it. Kenya was doing that, and she didn’t need some dire reason to have a moral compass. It’s just who she was. Damn, she was so out of his league. She always was. He knew that from the first time they met. Kenya made that clear from the first time they met.

  The moment he saw her, stepping into Dillon House on Harvard’s campus, shaking the rain from her umbrella, he was smitten. She was wearing a fitted black jacket, black knee-high boots and these patterned leggings that Caden had seen a lot of the girls wearing. Kenya filled hers out much nicer than many of the other girls on campus though, with her shapely thighs and nice round bum.

  He was in his first semester of the MBA program as well, and Caden wondered how they could have attended orientation and two meet and greets, and he had never seen her. Caden knew if he had seen her, he would have remembered.

  Kenya’s hair was plaited in swirly rows, which were ornamented with gold rings and went from forehead to the nape of her neck before falling to her waist. She looked like a lost ancient princess, as she stood before the directory. Her beautiful face was adorned with a confused frown, and her plump lips were curved into a pout as she stared at the office numbers.

  “Do you need help?” he asked, approaching her from behind. Leaning his hand on the wall beside her in an attempt to look casual, he flashed her his most charming smile.

  She looked up and her dark eyes met his.

  “No,” she answered and immediately returned her gaze to the list.

  Usually, all he had to do was say hello to an American girl and his accent did most of the work for him. His American mates from the rowing and rugby clubs, most of whom as a result were tall and muscular like him, would try to bet or bribe him not to talk when they went out together. His accent put him at an unfair advantage, they said, even though at such a prestigious school, Caden wasn’t the only one who came from abroad to attend. The most he could tell with her is that she noticed his accent, but after that she promptly ignored him.

  “It seems like you are looking for someone,” he continued, undeterred.

  “I’m sure I’ll manage to figure it out on my own,” she answered.

  “Hey, don’t blow me off that easily. For all you know, I could be who you’re looking for for,” Caden continued desperately. “I could be...” he scanned the board to see the name closest to where her finger had fallen, “Professor Martin or... the Associate for Student Affairs.”

  “Are you Professor Martin or the Associate for Student Affairs?” she asked.

  “I’ll be whoever and whatever you want me to be, love.”

  “All I want you to be is gone. I don’t have time to play around with a rich boy whose parents are paying for everything and who thinks just because he’s hot and has an accent every girl’s panties must immediately drop for him. I’m not the one. Please find another.” She started toward the elevators, and Caden stood there, stunned for a few moments. He he ran a few steps to catch up with her.

  “So, if I heard you right,” he began, catching her by the hand, “you think I’m hot.” Caden could feel more than see the blush in her cheeks as she realized what she’d said.

  “I...I just...I don’t have time for this.” She turned to leave again, but she couldn’t go anywhere until the elevator came.

  “I’ll prove you wrong,” he leaned closer to read the name from her form, “Miss Kenya Morris.”

  Kenya breathed a visible sigh of relief when the elevator arrived, and she immediately stepped inside. Caden just stared at her, still a bit gobsmacked by their encounter. Surrounded by other people, she was trying to ignore him again, refusing to meet his unyielding gaze. As the doors began to close, he caught it with his hand, unable to let her go without saying something.

  “Oh and Kenya, I’m interested in way more than just your panties.”

  Caden chuckled to see her face turn purple with embarrassment and fury. She looked as if she was somewhere between willing herself invisible or jumping out of the elevator and coming at his throat. At least, she wasn’t ignoring him anymore.

  Even after their first meeting, Kenya wouldn’t give him the time of day, but Caden was determined to convince her. There was something about her that he was instantly drawn to, and he couldn’t get her out of his head. Caden sighed. Now Kenya probably thinks he’s the playboy that she thought he was when they first met or that their whole relationship really was just him “experimenting” like she’d allege in the beginning. Caden sighed.

  This is not how their reunion was supposed to go.

  Since Google was only panning professional results, Caden had to resort to Facebook stalking. Ah, good old Facebook, where you can research the past five years of your exes lives from the comfort of your living room. He’d been very disciplined about not looking up Kenya before, too afraid of where that rabbit-hole may lead or how many of his current fantasies reality might destroy.

  Facebook was the goldmine he needed. Though he didn’t get exact dates, when the pictures of Cadence started appearing was telling. The pictures of Cadence had been around for more than three years, and Caden began wondering about when she told him she was three and held up four fingers. His niece and nephew both did that during transitioning ages.

  As he stared at her baby pictures, Caden was no longer thinking, hoping that Cadence really was his daughter. He knew. If only he had known then. If only he had called Kenya...just once. Then he would’ve known. He’d picked up the phone to call her so many times, gotten as far as dialing her number several times, and even hit send a few times, but he always kept to his first decision. How much might’ve been different if he’d just talked to her? He never thought, he never dreamed, that they’d have a child together.

  He and Kenya always used a condom when they had sex. That is, until their last few months together. There were a few times they were ruled more by passion than prudence, Caden remembered. It started when they were riding the highs of their first I love yous. They became less careful than they normally were. But, Kenya was on The Pill, so they were certain everything would be fine.

  One thing was certain, however. Math. If Cadence was an infant in these pictures from three and a half years ago, she was much closer to four. Simple subtraction did the rest, and it didn’t take long for him to deduce the truth. Unless Kenya had revenge sex right after he left and then got pregnant by that guy, there was no way this was not his child.

  Caden sat back in his chair, his heart tickled with a mixture of fear and delight. He knew he shouldn’t get ahead of himself. Technically, Kenya could’ve just gotten accidentally pregnant by someone else after he left. She could’ve started dating someone else right away. He certainly couldn’t blame her with the way he left things. No contact. No explanation. He couldn’t do much, but he had to find out the truth.

  Today.

  Caden went to his office early that morning. He’d texted his assistant, Copper, the night before to do the same. He also canceled all his meetings for that day. With all the information he had on Kenya, like who she worked for, he still didn’t know what she was doing in London and for how long she’d be doing it. The company where Kenya worked did not have a UK office, but she could be there meeting with clients. He couldn’t go to every office in Canary Wharf in an attempt to find her.

  For all Caden knew, she wasn’t here for work just vacation, so that included every attraction in the city of millions and the chance that she’d left London
to go to one of the counties or Scotland or Wales. She could’ve taken the Chunnel to Paris. Hell, she could’ve already returned home. Caden’s mind was racing with possibilities, mainly the possibility that he would never see Kenya again. Never learn the truth.

  As soon as his assistant, Copper, arrived, Caden had him calling, emailing, and texting everyone he could think of. He used all the pull his name and title afforded him in order to find her. Caden went to Eton with several high-level Ministry officials. First, he contacted the Department of Transport and called in a favor. Thankfully, Kenya hadn’t left yet, and Caden got the Home Office to flag her name, so she couldn’t leave the country. If a passport or VISA with her name was swiped, she’d be detained by Border Force, and he would be immediately contacted. Caden made sure to stress that this was a personal matter and not a criminal one, so they had expressed instructions to treat her with the utmost respect.

  Later, he contacted the Department of Business, Energy, and Industrial Strategy, the Department of International Trade, and everything else he could think of in his attempt to locate her. If Kenya was here for work, the company that applied for her VISA would be named, along with all of her contact info and where she’d be working and living while in the UK. If her trip was a personal one, he already had Dept. of Transport looking up her information. Caden’s morning was spent occupied in these pursuits until he finally got all the information he needed.

  Caden didn’t call her and wait for her to call him back. He wasn’t sure that Kenya would respond to him anyway. The seeds of fear that had been planted in his stomach last night had taken root and, by now, had spawned an all-out forest of panic. Caden sprang to his feet. He had waited long enough. He wasn’t going to wait any longer. He had to know the truth.

  ~

  “And if you will turn to page fourteen in the prospectus...” Kenya sat at the head of the conference table, engrossed in her presentation. “Here you will see-”

  “Please, sir. You can’t go...”