Page 62 of Captivated By You

Then again, he’d been remarkably secretive about this weekend. All he’d told me was to pack a bag for a two-night stay, to include a couple of warm sweaters and a coat, a scarf, and gloves, and to expect a visitor the next day.

I’d assumed that was his way of adding a little fun, a new way of telling me that he was the visitor.

Wrong.

Instead, a woman had arrived at my door, introduced herself as Alexandra, said that Asher had sent her, and then proceeded to wheel a rack of evening gowns into my apartment.

At first, I’d resisted. Knowing Asher, each of those dresses probably cost two months of my salary, but the very fact that Alexandra had been here meant that wherever he was taking me wasn’t the sort of place where off-the-rack would suffice.

Besides, the last few weeks had taught me that arguing with the man got me precisely nowhere.

Once Alexandra had found a gown she was happy with, she’d finally allowed me to look in the mirror.

My jaw had hung loose, my mouth wide open. It hadn’t even looked like me. I held my own in the tit department, but the cut and style of that dress had given me a cleavage most women would kill for. Not overly slutty, by any means. More sexy, with a hint of a promise of the prize beneath.

My phone pinged with a text.

At last!

I opened it.

Asher: I’m outside. Can you manage your bags, or do you want me to send my driver up?

Huh? Ash always picked me up right at the door.

Me: I’m good. Give me five.

Gathering my things together, I made my way down to the street. Ash’s limo idled by the curb. As I approached, the driver got out and opened the rear door.

“Miss.”

He held out his hands for my overnight case and the garment bag containing the dress. I racked my brains trying to remember his name, but as Ash had more than one driver, and I’d only met this guy once before, his name escaped me. I smiled instead and thanked him, then climbed into the car.

“What gives, Kingcaid?” I greeted Ash with narrowed eyes. “You always come up to the apartment.”

He slid a hand around the back of my neck and gave me a kiss that definitely wasn’t appropriate with the privacy screen down. Fortunately, his driver was still putting my things in the trunk.

“I had my reasons,” he answered in the same secretive way he’d dealt with this entire event.

“You’re making me suspicious.”

He pressed the button to raise the privacy screen as the driver climbed into the front seat, then pulled me onto his lap. His hand slid up my skirt, and he caressed my ass.

“Stop trying to distract me.”

“But you’re delectable.”

“I’m not a cheesecake.”

His eyes flared. “Can I eat cheesecake off your tits tonight? Or even better, soufflé.”

I huffed, half exasperated and half amused by him. “If you tell me where we’re going, then maybe.”

“Okay.”

Something in the way the skin around his eyes tightened set me on high alert. He looked almost… worried.

“It’s my uncle Jameson’s sixtieth birthday tomorrow night, and Dad is throwing a party for him. We’re heading to my parents’ house for the weekend.”

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