Chapter 5 #2
“Good girl,” he whispered, his lips grazing the shell of my ear again.
Getting hot and bothered in a zoo was never something I considered possible. He chuckled and ran his hand down the front of his fancy jacket. One of those business ones that made him ready for a boardroom.
The man was lethal, and he knew it.
We passed the woman, and she watched us, whispering with one of the other women in her group.
“Ignore it,” he whispered and pressed his lips into my temple. Butterflies exploded in my stomach and I struggled to drag in a breath. Dalton flounced feet away from us, unaware of his father driving me crazy.
“What are you doing?” I muttered. “You said . . .” I cut off and pursed my lips.
“Ignore what I said.”
I side-eyed him. “I don’t know if this will pass and you’d be cold again, so no, I’m not letting it go.”
“Do I detect a hint of sass?”
“Don’t smile,” I snapped and immediately gasped. “Sorry, Mr. Astor, I—”
He threw his head back with a loud laugh. Dalton peeked at us, and a small grin flitted across his mouth. He hurried over and took my hand, skipping next to me.
“Calm down, Isabelle,” he murmured, and his lips lingered near my ear pointedly.
I sucked in a breath and my eyes widened so much it hurt.
That was the first time he’d said my full name and the way his tongue curled around it was hotter than it should be.
A draft of cold air blew my hair back as we entered the little store. “Here we are. Son, don’t go too far.”
“Yes, Poppa,” he announced and ran toward the little animal figurines. I tried to slide away from Caine, but he didn’t allow it, so he came with me as I hovered near some stuffed animals.
I hesitated near an arctic fox. Somehow, it reminded me of him. I grabbed it and squished it. The faux eyes seemed to stare at me judgmentally.
“This reminds me of you,” I murmured.
It was suddenly plucked from my grip. I gasped, looking at Caine’s back as he strode to the cashier.
“Mr. Astor, what are you doing?”
“Are you ready, Dalton?” he called.
Dalton ran up with his arms cradling an anteater, bear, and dolphin figurine.
Caine crouched to collect the figures in his big hands, the fox tucked under his arm.
He set Dalton’s toys on the counter, and the cashier rang them up, rolling them in tissue and sliding them into a paper bag.
The attendant took the fox from Caine to scan the barcode.
“Want it in the bag?” he asked.
“No thank you.” Caine placed his phone against the scanner. The payment went through. Dalton didn’t allow another second to pass when he grabbed the bag.
Caine held the fox out toward me.
A knot swelled in my throat, and I hugged it to my chest.
“How about some ice cream?” he murmured, I looked to Dalton and he nodded.
He waved me forward and his palm settled on the small of my back. Caine guided us to the cart next to the store.
“Two vanilla ice cream cones dipped in chocolate,” Caine said to the older gentleman.
He took one of the paper towel wrapped cones, swirled the vanilla ice cream on top, then quickly dipped it before raising it expertly so it didn’t plop into the vat of melted chocolate. Caine took it and handed it to Dalton. Once he stood, the other one was ready, and he took it and gave it to me.
Our hands lingered on the cone until I pulled away.
“Can I sit, Poppa?” Dalton asked.
“Go ahead.” Dalton didn’t need another word because he was at the bench and flopping down in the next breath, with us a few feet behind him.
I lifted the tip of the chocolate shell to my lips and broke the layer. Vanilla mixed with chocolate exploded on my tongue.
“Mmm,” I hummed, licking the tip again.
“That good?” Caine asked huskily.
I looked up at him and the setting sun framed his golden locks.
Heat fused his eyes as they dropped to my lips.
He gripped my wrist and lifted the cone to his mouth.
The commanding touch flared something naughty in my stomach and I exhaled shakily.
He bit into the shell, making it crack down the middle.
Desire pooled in my core, and I squeezed my legs together. Jumping him right now wasn’t an option, but my goodness, I wanted to.
“We need to talk.” The serious tone put me on edge. “I can’t stop thinking—”
A loud ring exploded through the haze that had fallen over us. He straightened from his lean toward me and fished the phone out of his pocket. A tick started up in his jaw. It went off again.
“One second,” he said, handing me the cone and abruptly turning. I fanned my face and made my way back to Dalton. He was too dangerous.
I sat on the edge of the bench, and we ate our ice cream in silence. I watched Caine’s shoulders roll, taking in every bit of his body.
It was verging on twenty minutes of him being on the phone, and the ice cream was melting.
“Miss Issa, do you think Poppa would want to play games with us tonight?” Dalton asked, worry creasing his little eyebrows.
“That would be fun,” I murmured, tossing the cone into the trash. “I’ll ask. Wait here.” I approached Mr. Astor, slowly, so as to not disturb his conversation.
“We will discuss this, Silvie,” he hummed, lowering his voice. “At our usual place.”
The words, those words, caused a hollowing in my gut. I had a bad feeling so sudden it made me feel sick. The same yucky feeling he’d made me have when he told me we couldn’t continue.
I slowly backed away to return to Dalton’s side.
He turned, and his gaze clashed with mine. I quickly dropped mine and crouched to look up at Dalton.
“How did you like your ice cream?”
“It was so good—”
“Are you both ready?” Caine asked, his steps loud. I took a deep breath and stood, turning to face him.
“Yes,” I answered, stuffing my confusion. Caine placed his hand on my lower back and nudged me forward. He seemed stiff, like he was angry.
Dalton strode a few feet ahead of us. “We were actually wondering,” I paused, clearing my throat. “Want to have a game night?”
“Tonight?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. At my nod, he sighed. “I can’t. I have a meeting.” His eyes took on a far-off look.
A night-time meeting? This couldn’t be about his job. I licked my lips nervously, trying to hide my disappointment.
I tapped my fingertips on the linen cloth of the expensive restaurant, wanting this over with.
“Please, Caine,” Silvie said through her gritted teeth, flipping her hair, likely to push her Omega Scent at me, but it was no use, everything about her disgusted me.
“No one told you to go spend close to a million dollars within eight years.” The only reason I’d come was because I didn’t want her turning up at the office or, God forbid, the house. I didn’t want her anywhere near Dalton. Nor the woman I planned to make mine.
I itched to get back home in time to catch the last bit of game night. But Silvie had been fucking late and I couldn’t leave before hearing her bullshit, then handing her the documentation.
“You owe me.”
“I owe you nothing. Stay away from me and my son.”
I slid the envelope in her direction. She snatched it up, likely believing it contained money, but all that was in there was a copy of the contract she’d signed. Silvie had given up her parental rights to Dalton long ago. She balled the papers.
“Do you think I’ll give up that easily? I’ll take you back to court,” she hissed.
As I stood, I smoothed my hand down my tie, waving over the nearest waiter. “Put this on my tab.”
“Yes, Mr. Astor,” he said before walking away.
“Then have your lawyers contact mine. I don’t want you anywhere near me.”
“Please, Caine,” she gasped, alarmed. Had she really expected me to hand over another million? Shaking my head, I turned away.
Silvie grabbed at my arm, the cloying smell of her perfume overwhelming. She slid in front of me to press herself against my chest, grabbing fistfuls of my shirt.
She arched her spine to shove her cleavage against me. Little did she know that nothing she would do could ever get me hard. Silvie genuinely disgusted me.
I gripped her wrists and lifted, yanking hard to get her to release the front of my shirt.
“Caine,” she screamed, making a scene. I didn’t bother reacting, striding toward the entrance of the restaurant as if she wasn’t sobbing behind me. My cell vibrated, and I eyed the text message from Tiffany.
Want to get together?
I slowed outside the restaurant and pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Sir, can I get your key . . .” The attendee trailed off as my driver pulled up to the curb.
I opened my door. “No need to get out, Hermes.”
“Yes, Mr. Astor.”
After I shut the door, I sank onto my leather seats and returned my attention to the text.
No. Our interaction ends here. Have a good life.
What?
Why? This is so sudden.
We both agreed to this arrangement.
Go fuck yourself Caine.
I shut it off, sighing. Tonight should have been spent with Dalton and Issa, not catering to the bullshit.
I scrubbed my hair. I’d always calculated every decision, and I’d never planned to fuck my au pair.
But as much as I tried to ignore this gnawing urge to fuck her, I couldn’t.
That never happened, not remotely close .
. . which led me to the realization. She has to be my Scent Match.