by Cathie Linz
Caine heard a muffled thud over the roar of the shower. “Faith? Are you okay?” he called out. No answer. Maybe she hadn’t heard him. Wait, was that the outer door slamming shut?
He jumped out of the shower, grabbing a towel on his way. Sure enough, Faith was gone.
Shit. He’d left his wallet on the nightstand. What a rookie mistake. She’d removed his Illinois driver’s and private investigator’s licenses and tossed them onto the middle of the rumpled bed. His wallet had been thrown against the far wall, explaining the thump he’d heard.
He garnered all that intel in a second while racing toward the door she’d just slammed on her way out. He yanked it open and stepped into the hallway. The door slammed behind him, leaving him stranded wearing nothing but shower water and a towel.
Caine used every one of the creative curses he’d learned from his years in the Marine Corps. He was so screwed.
Faith called her father the instant she got to her room. “How could you! Megan told me you were upset with me not talking to you on the phone. So instead of trusting me, you sent one of your minions to spy on me!” During their week together, Caine had told her he was a lawyer from Philadelphia, but his driver’s license listed a Chicago address. Ditto for his private investigator’s license. Obviously the man lied. “His name is Caine Hunter. Ring any bells?”
“Oh my God!” her father bellowed. “He doesn’t work for me. He works for that low-down thieving bastard Vince King from King Investigations!”
Great. Faith’s heart sank. She’d just slept with and had mind-blowing sex with the enemy.
Chapter Three
“Are you still there? Did you hear what I said?” Faith’s father demanded, his voice so loud she had to hold her cell phone away from her ear. “Caine Hunter works for that bastard Vince King!”
“Yes, I heard you.”
“You said this guy has been spying on you? Have you had direct contact with him?”
“Yes.” You couldn’t get any more direct than she’d gotten with Caine last night. The heated memories filled her mind and weakened her knees. She sank onto the bed. Her contact with Caine had been intimately direct and extraordinarily sensual, not that she was about to tell her father that.
“Did he threaten you? Intimidate you in any way?”
“No, nothing like that.” Although Caine’s ability to give Faith pleasure had been so intense that it had threatened her self-control and left her flying to orgasmic planes she’d never visited before.
Sensing she wasn’t telling him everything, he demanded, “Do I need to come over there and get you?”
“Of course not.”
“You’re obviously not in a clear state of mind.”
Hey, you wouldn’t be clear if you’d gone through what I have in the past week, she wanted to tell her father but didn’t. She’d already left her family with the mess caused by her ruined wedding. Instead of facing the music and handling things herself, she’d hopped on a plane and left town.
Not the action of a responsible adult, perhaps, and she felt guilty about that . . . along with the fact that she’d just slept with her father’s enemy. Or to be more precise—she’d slept with an employee of his enemy.
“You haven’t forgotten why that bastard King is our enemy, have you?”
“No, Dad, I haven’t forgotten.” How could she? Their rivalry was legendary.
“He worked for me. He was my best friend, and he betrayed me.”
Yeah, Faith sure knew how betrayal felt. She’d had more than her fair share lately.
“After swearing he’d never start his own agency, he did just that. He’s been out to get me ever since—stealing clients, sabotaging cases, messing with our investigators. When Alan the Asshole went missing, my first thought was that King had gotten to him. I don’t think that’s what happened in that instance, but I will certainly check it out again. This case with Caine Hunter showing up in Italy is another matter. Hunter isn’t just any employee. He’s got a sick grudge against us. He blames me for his father’s death.”
“What? Why would he do that?”
“His father was involved in a major case of ours, one involving corporate theft in the millions of dollars. We were about to turn our information over to the authorities when the guy committed suicide.”
“How can Caine blame his father’s suicide on us?”
“Because he doesn’t think his father was guilty, which is ridiculous. Listen, Faith, this Hunter guy is not to be messed with. He’s a former Marine with revenge on his mind. That’s a dangerous combination.”
And here she’d been thinking Caine’s dark eyes and broad shoulders were a dangerous combination. Silly her.
“You need to get away from that bastard immediately,” her father said.
“I fly home tomorrow.”
“Don’t wait until then,” he ordered before hanging up.
Faith’s first inclination was that she wasn’t about to let Caine force her out of her dream trip—even if it was now threatening to turn into a nightmare. Here was yet another man who’d messed things up for her. Yet another betrayal.
Maybe she should just leave. Was it really worth hanging around for another day?
Before she could make that decision, the door to her room opened. Because the door had a habit of not latching all the way, she usually made sure it was shut after she entered her room, but today she’d been too upset.
Caine stood there, wearing a towel and a scowl.
“Get out of my room!” She still held her cell phone in her hand, and while a part of her wanted to throw her BlackBerry at him, she needed it to get help. Wait; dialing 911 wouldn’t do a thing for her in Italy.
“I can explain—” he began.
She cut him off. “I’m sure you can come up with some additional lies to add to the pile you’ve already told me. Don’t bother. My father already told me all about you.”
Caine’s face darkened. “You father wouldn’t know the truth if it bit him in the ass.”
“That sounds like a more accurate description of you. I know that you work for Vince King. You’re not going to try to deny that, are you?” Was some small part of her hoping he’d say there had been some terrible mix-up? Yeah right. That was like hoping that Alan would show up at the church last week.
“No. I don’t deny that,” Caine said. “Vince had me follow you because he was suspicious of you going to Italy on your own. Come on, you have to admit it doesn’t fit your pattern of behavior. You’ve never traveled on your own in your entire life.”
“And because I haven’t taken a solo trip before, your boss sends you all the way to Italy to spy on me? Talk about paranoid. That’s sick.”
“I was already here in Italy. On personal business.”
Faith wasn’t buying one word Caine said. That brief flicker of hope had died, stomped out completely. “Why don’t you admit what your real job was?”
“I already told you—”
“Lies. You’ve already told me a bucketful of lies. The truth is that Vince sent you here to seduce me in order to get even with my father. Because Vince hates my father. He and my father have been bitter rivals for years, just like the Montagues and Capulets.” And with the same tragic outcome. At least she hadn’t guzzled a load of poison. No, she was sooo over having her heart broken by a man.
“Having sex with you was not part of the plan,” Caine angrily denied. “I’m not some gigolo for hire.”
“A gigolo would have done a better job,” she retorted.
“I didn’t hear any complaints last night.”
“Well, you’re hearing them now.”
“I didn’t come here for a postcoital postmortem.”
“Why did you come here? Did you really think that I’d buy your lame excuses and fall into bed with you?”
“Why not?” he drawled. “It worked before.”
She slapped him. Hard. Her palm stung and turned red. Had Jane Austen ever slapped anyone? Damn, it hurt. She
wiggled her hand to shake the pain off.
Caine apparently thought she was going to hit him again, because he grabbed her wrist to prevent her from repeating her attack.
“Get your hands off me!” she yelled.
“Gladly. Once you calm down.”
“People need to stop telling me to calm down,” she growled.
She was considering kicking his shins when he tugged her against his body, which was now naked, the towel having fallen to the floor.
She froze. How dare he be aroused at a time like this? Did the man have no shame? Clearly not, or he wouldn’t have barged into her room practically nude.
Well, she wasn’t going to respond. She refused to be impressed or aroused or anything but furious—coldly, logically furious.
“Listen to me, because I’m only going to tell you this once.” His voice was as hard as the rest of his body. “No one told me to have sex with you. That wasn’t planned. It was a mistake. There’s no way I’m telling Vince or anyone else about what happened last night. No one has to know. Unless you blabbed to your father?”
She refused to acknowledge Caine or the question he’d asked. Instead, she was reciting the titles of Jane Austen’s books in her head, in chronological order.
Sense and Sensibility—1811.
Pride and Prejudice—1813.
Mansfield Park—1814.
Emma—1816.
Northanger Abbey—1817 posthumous.
Persuasion—1817 posthumous.
Clearly frustrated by her silence, Caine tightened his hold on her. “Did you tell your father?”
“That you’re a bastard? No, I didn’t have to tell him that. He already knew.”
“You’ve got a lot of attitude for a librarian.”
“So I’ve been told.” She hadn’t, but that was about to change. “So be afraid. Be very afraid.”
“Oh yeah. I’m just trembling in my boots here. Can’t you tell?”
Betrayed by two different men in ten days, Faith had had it. No more Ms. Nice Girl. “Unless you want me to hurt you, you’ll release me immediately.”
“Hurt me? Yeah right. Ouch! Shit!” He released her to rub his nipples that she’d just pinched and nearly ripped off his chest.
“I did warn you.” She picked up the towel and threw it in his face. “Now get out.” She yanked the door to her room open. “And don’t come back. I already know everything I need to know about you and the grudge you have against my family.”
“Did your rich daddy tell you he’s the reason my father died?”
“He said you mistakenly blame him for your father’s suicide.”
Caine’s face darkened, and a muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. “The only mistake is the one Jeff West made in accusing my dad. That’s a mistake he’s going to pay for big time.”
“And you made me pay big time too by seducing me when you knew I was vulnerable. Yeah, that’s the sign of an honorable man, all right,” she mocked him bitterly. “Honor, courage, commitment—aren’t those the requirements of a Marine? You’re sadly lacking in all three of those traits.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, lady.” His words hit her like bullets. “I’ve got more honor in my little finger than your entire family has ever had. And my commitment is to my dad, who was falsely accused.”
“So you say.”
“So I plan on proving.”
“That will never happen.”
“Watch me.” He marched out of her room.
She slammed the door after him, only to have it bounce open again and for her to find Paco the bellman standing there. “Do you need help, signorina?”
“Yes, I need to be moved to another room, one with a door that closes properly.” And keeps dangerously seductive men out.
Faith didn’t start crying until fifteen minutes later in her new room when she called Megan. “I’m sorry to wake you up,” she sobbed. “I know it’s after midnight there. But I had to talk to you.” She bit her lip and attempted to scrub the tears from her cheeks.
“Are you okay?”
“No.” She gulped, trying to regain her control. “Not really.”
“Faith, you’re scaring me. Did you have an accident? Are you in the hospital? Hurt? What happened?”
“First you have to swear not to tell anyone. Pinkie swear.”
“Pinkie swear. What happened?”
“I had sex with the enemy.”
“What? Were you raped?”
“No. I had rebound sex with a guy, and I just found out he works for King Investigations.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Yeah, that’s putting it mildly. You know this isn’t like me at all. I don’t jump into bed at the drop of a hat.”
“I know you don’t. So who is this guy?”
“His name is Caine Hunter.”
“When did you meet him?”
“The first day I arrived.”
“Why didn’t you mention him before now?”
“Because I was stupid. I wanted to forget the mess my life was in. And he made me feel sexy and attractive. I fell for the act. He totally played me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He was specifically sent here to have sex with me.”
“What? But why? Who would do that?”
“Vince King.”
“Why go after you?”
“For revenge. You know how King hates Dad. And this guy, Caine, hates Dad too. Blames him for his father’s suicide. It’s ridiculous, of course. As if Dad would ever falsely accuse someone of a crime. You know how good my father is at what he does.”
“I think I remember this case,” Megan said slowly. “It was right before you came back from Las Vegas. I don’t know the details, but it was a very tragic situation. As I recall, the guy’s son was serving in Iraq in the Marine Corps at the time of his father’s death.”
“Was there any question about it being a suicide?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. Let’s get back to you and this guy.”
“He got to me in a vulnerable moment. Normally I’d never have sex with a guy I’d only known for a week. Never in a million years. But after the way Alan dumped me, I was just feeling so terrible. Caine knew that and took advantage.”
“The bastard.”
“The rat bastard.” Faith wiped away the remaining dampness on her face and lifted her chin with newfound resolve. “The total rat bastard.”
“So what are you going to do now?” Megan asked.
“I don’t know. I’m trying to decide if I should leave today and come home a day early. But then I let him win. What do you think?”
“I wish I was there to help you.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I should have taken a leave from work and gone with you to Italy. If I’d been there, that scumbag wouldn’t have gotten to you. I’d have had your back.”
“I know you would.”
“I feel so guilty—”
Faith interrupted her. “No, it’s not your fault. Not at all. You have nothing to feel guilty about. I, on the other hand, have quite a bit to feel guilty about. Number one: that I didn’t tell you about Caine before now. Number two: that I was so stupid to fall for this guy’s act. Number three: that I didn’t just stay in Chicago and face the music. Number four: that I left you all to deal with it for me.”
“Don’t worry about us. Everything here is fine. You know how organized your mom is. She’s handled everything just fine.”
“Is she mad that I haven’t called her?”
“No, she understands.”
“Well, she wouldn’t understand this new mess I’m in, so don’t tell her about it.”
“Don’t worry. I already pinkie swore, remember?”
“Thanks, Megan, for being there for me when I need you.”
“I just wish I really was there and not here.”
“You better get some sleep. You’ve got to work in the morning.”
M
egan groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
“Love you, cuz.”
“Love you too.”
Faith ended the call and stepped to the window, where she had a new view of Positano, similar to the one in her previous room but now one floor lower. She remembered her arrival here in Positano when she’d first seen the picture-perfect display of bright white buildings and pastel houses perched against the cliffs. So much had changed since then. If only she hadn’t met Caine, hadn’t fallen for his fake charm, hadn’t ended up in his bed. That had changed everything.
One thing was still the same, though. Her stomach was growling.
Paco, bless his heart, had made sure that a delicious breakfast was brought to her new room along with her packed bags. Faith wasn’t really hungry, despite her noisy tummy, but she needed to keep her strength up, so she nibbled on a flaky croissant smothered with lemon marmalade.
She wasn’t about to waste her final morning moping around her room.
When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping. Not that Faith had ever really gone for that saying before, but she was a new woman now.
No more frumpy librarian clothes for her.
Okay, so she’d never worn frumpy clothes, but she’d never gone for edgy look-at-me outfits before. That was all about to change. Positano had plenty of specialty boutiques, and she was going to hit all of them her last day here.
“I’m telling you, Vince, she’s no threat,” Caine told his boss over the phone. “Hell, she’s spent most of her time here sightseeing.”
Well, there had been some incredible sex last night, but he wasn’t sharing that intel with his boss. That was strictly on a need-to-know basis, and Vince didn’t need to know that Caine had compromised his impartiality by letting his dick think for him.
Not that having sex with Faith had diminished Caine’s determination to clear his father’s name. In fact, her overconfident claim that she knew her father was right about everything had only served to reinforce Caine’s drive to prove her wrong. His mission remained the same: clear his dad’s name.
