“The women around here certainly like you,” I noted dryly, wishing I didn’t feel that curl of jealousy in my belly. I’d never been a jealous woman until Caine, and I didn’t particularly like that he provoked that aspect of my personality. I did my best to keep it under wraps, using humor to hide behind.

Caine didn’t reply.

“You know, you might have them fooled, but you don’t fool me.”

He slanted a look at me out of the corner of his eye and I could tell he sensed the dark undercurrent of my mood. “Is that right?” he murmured.

“Mmm. They all whisper behind your back that you’re dangerous, ruthless, exciting, giggling like titillated morons. But I know something they don’t.”

Turning fully now to face me, Caine practically dared, “And what’s that?”

Melancholy coiled around my heart like an iron fist. “You seem dangerous because you are dangerous. You walk among them like a surly tiger, and they’re all just prey caught in your paws. They’re so busy looking up at you, oohing and aahing over how beautiful you are, they have no idea that you’re mere seconds from eating them. That you’re just going to chew them up and spit them out.” I looked away, taking a sip of my drink and willing my hands not to shake as I did so.

The tension we’d felt between us all week seemed to expand into this suffocating thing that wrapped around us, shutting everyone else out.

Finally I found the courage to look at him.

He was staring out at the crowd, seemingly bored. Only the tightness of his jaw gave away his irritation.

A grim-faced gentleman nodded at him from across the room and Caine lifted his drink in acknowledgment.

“Who’s that?” I said curiously, trying to draw focus away from the bad mood between us.

“Leonard Kipling. Pharmaceuticals giant.”

“You know everyone, don’t you? I didn’t think Kipling was the kind of man you wanted to get into bed with.”

“He’s powerful. I don’t rule out anyone with his kind of influence. Who knows where the future may take me, or if there’ll come a day when an acquaintance with him will benefit us both?”

I eyed the stranger, noting that behind his grim expression was actually the handsome face of a fit man. He looked to be in his late forties. A number of women were shooting him come-hither looks. “Is he married?”

“Divorced,” Caine replied, his tone cool with affected ennui. “Why? Thinking of asking him to replace me when we’re done fucking?”

The ugly suggestion hit me from left field. I stilled, shocked by the hurtful insinuation.

I couldn’t even look at him.

It was true that in the beginning of our acquaintance Caine had been cutting sometimes, but he’d never been outright disrespectful. He’d never sought to be deliberately cruel. Only once … when he was on the defensive.

But never since then.

And never had he made what we were doing feel so cheap … Never had he made me feel so inconsequential.

“Alexa …,” he murmured.

I edged slightly away from him, taking a long gulp of my champagne. Thankfully more people I didn’t recognize came over to talk to Caine and he was distracted while I attempted to regain control of my emotions.

In order to continue at his side for the rest of the evening, I switched off my emotions. I was polite to everyone, even to him, but I was coolly distant. Funnily enough, I sensed my indifference caused some intrigue among some of the guests.

Like I cared.

I cared nothing for them.

I wanted to be away from them and away from this man beside me who was suddenly a callous stranger.

“I appear to have lost my date,” Henry said as he approached us, and the latest gaggle of admirers around my boss departed.

“Did you try the bar?” Caine said.

“Yes.” Henry grinned at him, unperturbed by his mocking. “And before you ask I also tried the restroom.” He slanted a look at me and instantly frowned. “Everything all right, Lexie?”

“I’m fine,” I muttered before finishing off the last of my champagne. I’d been nursing it for an hour.

“Another glass?” Caine asked, and I was gratified to note the uncertainty in his query.

“No, thank you,” I replied, full of demure politeness.

“Is it just me or is it chillier on this side of the room?” Henry quirked an eyebrow at Caine.

“Not just you.” Caine’s gaze burned into me as I studiously avoided it.

“Okay, then. Well … since I’m not interrupting any scintillating conversation over here, Caine, I was speaking to Kipling earlier. He mentioned some business that may interest you.”

“Lead the way …” I noted him starting to follow Henry out of the corner of my eye and then stopping. “Alexa, are you coming?”

I still didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. “Yes. I just need to use the restroom.”

The tension between us rose to new levels as he waited for me to look at him. I didn’t. Finally Caine said, “We’ll be right over there.”

As I watched him walk away, I let the ache I was holding down inside me unfurl.

I was done. I wouldn’t let any man talk to me the way he did.

Every time I thought we were going somewhere, he proved me wrong, and my frustration at the ups and downs in our relationship was at boiling point. It was time to leave before I let my anger erupt in public.