Page 20 of A Method to His Madness

“I was thinking…I don’t know anything about you,” I say.

The waiter arrives then, but Caleb keeps his gaze trained on me while we place our order and the man leaves again. “I’d rather our sessions focus on you.”

“Is that really how you think of our time together?” I swallow the trepidation, but it sticks. “Sessions?”

“No.” A vein ticks in his temple. “That’s what I’m calling them for your benefit.”

Confusion prods me. “Why?”

His head tilts, ever so slightly. “You’re not ready to hear the answer to that, angel. As much as I’d love to tell you.”

“I am ready to hear it.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but he stops himself. Checks himself. Recognizes that I have a will, am expressing it and he should respect that. My God, this is what it’s like to be seen and understood. “The way I feel about you is rather intense, Ashley.”

My pulse scatters. “So…it’s not like this with all your clients?”

An incredulous laugh puffs from his mouth, followed by a longer and louder one. “No. My methods might be unconventional. Immersion or adventure therapy, for instance.” His amusement fades rapidly, something intense snapping in his blue gaze. “But I can confidently say it has never occurred to me, before now, to steal another man’s wife out from under his nose.”

My lungs labor for air. “Is that what you’re doing? Stealing me?”

“I’ll answer that when I’m positive you want to be stolen.”

I start to respond withI am. I am positive.But I can’t. I’m not free to make that decision yet. I’ve been caught up in this whirlwind of Caleb and his sensual methods of bringing me back to life, but…nothing has changed. Not really. Waylon still owns the farm on which my parents’ livelihood depends. The deed is done. I sealed myself to that monster and even if I could find a way to get my parents off the hook, I don’t think my husband would willingly let me go. Not without an ugly battle.

Caleb nods once, as if he’s read every frantic thought in my head. “Patience, angel.”

“Okay,” I breathe, feeling shaky. At least, until he presses his instep to mine beneath the table, grounding me.The way I feel about you is rather intense, Ashley.“Can I ask you more about yourself?”

His Adam’s apple lifts above his collar and disappears again, his gaze drawn down to the table. “I’ll do my best to answer. There are parts of my past I’d rather leave behind.”

“I’ll start easy. How old are you?”

“Thirty-three.”

Am I surprised he’s thirteen years my senior? Yes. But only because I hadn’t considered his age until now. Perhaps because he’s so timeless. Still…wow. I’m not only engaging in an intimate relationship with someone other than my husband, he’s a lot older than me. Unlike my age gap with Waylon, the one with Caleb only makes me feel more secure. More…sure of him. As though his experience only puts me in the surest hands, instead of primed to be taken advantage of.

He’s studying my face. “Does our age difference bother you?”

“No. I, um…”

“What?”

My face is hot. “I like it.”

“Do you?” his voice is like gravel. “For the same reason you like calling me Daddy?”

I don’t realize the tiny muscles of my sex are sore from orgasming until they slowly yank tight now, like zip ties, wetness dripping gently into my panties. This man is my Daddy. “Yes.”

An unholy light pools in his eyes. “Ask your next question, before I make another mess, angel.”

I press my palms to my knees to stop them shaking. “You’re new to Lunson, but you’re not from town originally. Where were you before?”

He exhales in a measured way. “Chicago.”

“Did you go to school there?”

After a brief hesitation, he says, “I went through the academy.”

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