Chapter 11 #3
He knows what I can do, the kind of relief I can provide for my clients.
Dom hinted that there might be a need for my more innate talents, but she never came right out and asked about using my Gift.
But clearly Callum already knows what I can do.
My abilities aren’t exactly a secret, but I also am very choosy about who I share them with.
Before Lady M came along, I only used to twist the emotions of those with whom I’d built a relationship, one of mutual trust and respect, and for purposes I found worthy.
The men I’ve been manipulating for money to try to earn my way out of my contract don’t know what I can do when they find release with me—they wouldn’t be fucking me if they did.
They are merely interested in one night in Lady Caterine’s bed, some of them probably more interested in bragging rights than in me.
All my hackles raise to high alert, any connection we might have forged over the course of our conversations forgotten. I’m not sure how he was able to manipulate the truth I could see in his words, but clearly he has found some way to lie to me and make me believe it. And that makes him dangerous.
“What are you hiding, Callum Reid?”
His eyes dart around the room nervously, but they keep coming back to me. I’m naked on the bed before him, how could they not? “I’m not sure what you mean, my lady.”
I tilt my head to the side, studying the man before me.
From everything I’ve discerned, Callum Reid is good and honorable—my initial impression from Dom confirmed by his words and his honesty.
Yet circumstances haven’t exactly been kind to him.
As much as I hate to admit it, Lady M may be right about Callum’s intentions when it comes to his father.
What else could bring him here other than an act so terrible he can hardly bear the weight of it?
“Do you know what I can do? What my Gift is?” I ask baldly.
His hesitation is less than a second, and yet it still manages to make him look utterly defeated. “Yes, I do.”
“Is that why you came to me?”
Callum crosses the room to my privacy screen, grabbing my robe and handing it to me before returning to sit on the chaise. “I can’t think straight with you looking like that.” He flashes me a sheepish smile.
I fasten the robe around my waist and stay perched on the edge of the bed, leaving space between us. So we both can think straight. My head is a jumble. Nothing I know about Callum Reid is making any sort of sense.
Callum sighs, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “It was my sister’s idea.”
“Have I worked with her before?” I never forget a client, especially not one as beautiful as the princess, so I’m well aware Dom has never graced my sheets. But how much of our meeting did she relay to her brother?
“Not that I know of. But she heard what you can do, and she thought you might be able to help me.”
“Help you with what, Your Highness?” I have a pretty solid guess, but I want to see how much he is willing to reveal. How much he actually trusts me. If he isn’t going to let me touch him, then I’ll need to find other ways to get him to open up to me, other ways to make him reveal himself.
“I can’t tell you yet.” He looks up, his gaze meeting mine. “But I promise I will. I wanted to spend this time with you before so you could get to know me, and so I could get to know you.” He hesitates.
“Because you don’t trust me?”
“Yes.”
His frank admission makes me suck in a breath. “Because I’m Gifted?”
“My mother…when she died…a Gifted healer came. My father asked her to save my mother. She was a good woman, a fair and kind queen, but the Gifted refused to help her; instead she sat there and watched my mother suffer. A couple of hours later she was dead. The so-called healer seemed happy to see her pass.” His mouth turns down and his eyes cloud with grief and, if I’m not mistaken, something that looks like shame.
“And so you have held that against every Gifted you’ve encountered since?” I try not to take it personally. At least Callum seems to have a good reason for his prejudice, just as the Gifted had a good reason to not save a royal life.
“Yes.” He has the respect to look me in the eye.
“Do you believe the Gifted should regain our rights and privileges, Your Highness?” I force myself to deliver the question without choking on the words. It’s an indignity to have to ask if I deserve to be treated the same as everyone else.
His hesitation is long. “I believe that regulating the Gifted has kept this country and its citizens safe for many years.”
I laugh, though I find nothing humorous in his response. “I doubt many Gifted feel like they have been safe. But I guess our feelings don’t matter as much, do they?”
At least the shame that falls over his face seems genuine. “I…I…”
“I am sorry for your loss, Your Highness.” The words may sound like a common platitude, but I find myself genuinely meaning them, despite his admission.
Perhaps I should return his honesty and openness with a bit of my own.
But I owe this man nothing. He may need something from me, but he isn’t willing to offer me basic human rights in exchange.
Callum rises, his strong thighs flexing beneath the fabric of his pants.
“Perhaps it would be better if we ended our agreement.” He must notice the look of fear I’m not quick enough to hide because despite his revelation, I still need him, need this week, if I am going to be able to clear my contract and put distance between my sister and Lady M. “You will still receive your money.”
Unfortunately, money isn’t going to be enough. I promised Lady M information, and with the way she is currently abusing my sister, I know she is not going to let us go without it. There is no way to escape La Puissance or Lady M’s hold over us without more from Callum Reid.
I didn’t make much of Lady M’s request to make Callum fall in love with me, but it may be the only way.
If he walks out the door now, nothing about my situation, or Andra’s situation, will truly change.
But I would be lying if I didn’t acknowledge that there’s something more worrisome happening in my heart as I take in Callum’s words.
The fear of never seeing him again—it chokes the breath from my lungs.
Which is ridiculous. It’s been two days.
And yet I meet Callum at the door, placing a soft hand on his forearm. I let the neckline of my robe slip and fill my eyes, and my words, with honest hopefulness. “Please don’t go, Your Highness. My services have been paid for, and I intend to fulfill them. I want to fulfill them.”
“My lady, I…”
“Caterine is fine.”
“Caterine.”
I have to close my eyes for a second, the combination of my name in his mouth and the sincerity in his eyes too much for me to handle. “I would like to continue our lessons, Your Highness, and I would like to continue to get to know you. The real you. If you are amenable.”
“Because you have been paid?”
I shrug coyly, fingering the buttons of his brocade vest, shifting from honest to flirtatious, moving back to safer territory. “Because I was enjoying our time together.” I let my gaze drift lower. “And I think you were too.”
“I think we both know I don’t need sex lessons.” His hand finds the dip in my waist and he pulls me closer, as if he can’t help himself.
“That only persuades me further, Your Highness.”
His fingers tighten. “Please don’t call me that.”
My hand travels up over the hard planes of his chest, wrapping around his neck.
“Let us continue our lessons, Callum, let us spend this time together so, should the need ever arise for my other services, you already feel comfortable coming to me for help.” It’s all I can say without giving up the whole game.
Maybe I can find a way for us both to come out of this with what we want.
I can alleviate his guilt and make him see that he’s wrong about the Gifted.
Maybe I can still get what I need from him.
“You would be willing to help me in the future?” He lowers his head, his breath warming my neck. “If I ever needed you, Caterine?”
All I would have to do is turn my head an inch to the right and my lips could find his.
I long for the contact, ache for it. The thought of pressing my lips to his sends a shiver racing up my spine, that same shiver embedding itself under my skin until the urge to feel his mouth on mine is almost overwhelming.
“Will you let me touch you? Do you trust me enough for that?” I drag a single finger along the hard length of him, the bulge that hasn’t softened, despite the heaviness of our conversation. “Not tonight, necessarily, but eventually?”
“I will.” He covers my hand with his, pressing my palm to his thickness, his eyes fluttering closed.
“So you will continue with our lessons, then?” I run the tip of my nose along the exposed length of his neck, breathing him in. Every inch of him is intoxicating.
“I will, my lady.” His head turns, his lips skimming the curve of my shoulder, over my trio of freckles. “And you will consider helping me when I need it?”
I can’t help but feel I’m going to regret this. “I will.”