Page 13 of Caught in His Sights

As suddenly as it began, Caleb releases me and shoves me back into my seat. My head spins from the intensity of it all, and my face burns with shame at how willingly I gave in to him.

“Put your seatbelt on,” he orders, and I scramble to obey, my hands shaking as I fumble with the buckle.

As the car speeds through the city, the landscape changes from the grimy streets of my poor neighborhood to the shining lights of downtown. The adrenaline that coursed through me during our confrontation dissipates, leaving me with a hollow sensation in my chest.

“Where are we going?” I ask, tongue sweeping out to catch the lingering taste of Caleb’s kiss on my lips.

He ignores my question, focusing on the road ahead.

I swallow the lump in my throat and stare out the window, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

Eventually, the cityscape gives way to a neighborhood of sprawling mansions, each one more opulent than the last. I gawk at the grandeur of it all, wondering where on earth we are.

When he pulls through a wrought-iron gate, I glimpse an enormous estate before we descend underground. He parks in a garage filled with expensive vehicles, some costing more than I’ve made in my lifetime.

“Follow me.” Caleb slides out, slamming the door shut behind him.

Shock sticks me in place for a heartbeat. I unbuckle my seat belt, grab my bag, and limp after him, acutely aware of the pain shooting up from my bare feet with every step now that adrenaline no longer blocks it out.

He leads me to an elevator, and as the doors close behind us, I sag against the wall, studying his hard profile. “Where are we?”

“We’re at Rockford Manor.” The words come out clipped and cold.

The name sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve written dozens of gossip columns about this powerful Alpha family, for which they sent Caleb to kill me.

And now he’s brought me to the very heart of their inner sanctum.

5

In a daze, I follow Caleb into his room, then come to a halt to gawk.

Scratch room. He has an entire suite in the Rockford mansion. The masculine, black leather furniture in the front room looks soft and inviting, the seating arranged in a semicircle around the sleek glass coffee table. A mounted flat-screen TV dominates one wall, while bookshelves filled with records line another.

Off to the left, dark-lacquered French doors open into an office, and I drool with envy when I spot the polished, mahogany desk inside. His pheromones permeate the suite, thick and all-consuming. Caleb spends his private time here, and no other scent intrudes on the space, so no lover.

The snick of a lock engaging comes from behind me, the sound echoing in the silence.

I jump, only then realizing I followed Caleb here without question, something that both terrifies and comforts me at the same time. As a reporter, I always have questions.

As I spin to face him, pain shoots up from my bare feet. “Nice place you have here.”

Caleb ignores the compliment as he stalks forward, and the intensity of his expression sends me limping backward on instinct.

With no effort at all, he catches me and takes my bag from my grasp. Tossing it onto the couch, he grips my waist and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing.

I yelp as I splay my hands over his back before my face slams into it. “Hey! What are you doing?”

The firm muscles under my palms ripple as he turns and carries me toward an open doorway to the right. “You’re injured.”

“No shit!” I pound a fist on his muscular ass. “You dragged me barefoot across my glass-covered apartment and through an alley with who-knows-what on the ground!”

Bright light flares to life, revealing an elegant bathroom. Pristine white marble and sparkling, chrome fixtures spin around me as Caleb lifts me off his shoulder and sets me on a granite countertop.

Before I can catch my balance, strong hands grip my ankles and lift them, unbalancing me further, and I fall back against the mirrored wall with a thud. Brow furrowed, Caleb gauges how much damage I incurred during our hasty escape.

With a grunt, he releases me. “Don’t move.”

As he strides away, I lift my legs onto the counter and tentatively touch the bottoms of my feet, checking for glass or other debris. A sharp hiss escapes me when I brush something that shifts beneath my fingers.

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